Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
“I’ll see you Saturday morning – early,” I tell her, turning to walk away. “Pack light. You won’t need much where we’re going.”
I leave the café, unable to resist one last glance through the large glass windows in the front of the building, to see her still watching me go. I nod at her once and I feel my spirits lift when she smiles back.
I feel like I’m stuck on a rollercoaster. I feel awful about Lexie but excited about Candy. I’m sad that I have to leave her now, but elated that we’ll spend the weekend together. All of this restless energy, thankfully, has an outlet, plans for the two of us. And I have some big plans that might just take me all of the time I have left to put into place.
Chapter Thirty-One
Candy
If Alex had come home at any point this week, it might have made things difficult. I would have had to pack secretly, maybe while she was in the bathroom, keeping the bag hidden until it was time to go. Then I would have had to sneak out of the room at the crack of dawn, trying not to wake her so that she wouldn’t be able to ask where I was going.
But Alex hasn’t come back to the dorm at all – not even to pick up her things. I can’t stop looking at her empty bed, her study materials scattered across the desk on her side of the room. Her closet is still full of clothes. And yet she hasn’t come back or even sent anyone else to get things for her. I can’t stop worrying about her, hoping that she’s okay. Every day, I’ve sent her a message asking, but she never replies. At this point, I’m not expecting her to. I just hope that she isn’t having too terrible of a time.
I’ve seen her in class, but she always arrives at the last minute and then takes a seat near the door, far away from me. When the class ends, she escapes before I can catch her. Even when I choose to sit nearer to the door in order to catch her, she somehow manages to get past me in the rush. I guess she’s not ready to see me yet, and I just have to respect that.
Especially since I’m not respecting the other part of her wishes, by spending more time with her Dad.
I grab my bag and head out into the early morning sunlight, dazzling where it shines off car windshields and the windows of the buildings around. It’s almost eerie to be walking around this early on a Saturday, the campus mostly empty, only a few people wandering the paths.
But there is one person here I can’t miss, standing in the parking lot, leaning against his car. In black as always, though this time looking much more relaxed in black jeans and a black shirt, open at the collar, with no tie. Finn, waiting for me. As soon as he sees me, he rushes forward to take my bags from my hands – even though they’re only light, as per his instructions – and puts them away in the trunk of the car.
“Get in,” he says, but when I move towards the passenger side door, he shakes his head. “Not there. In the back.”
“Why?” I ask, frowning, though I do as I’m told. When I get in, I can see why immediately.
“This is Bernard,” Finn says, gesturing towards the man in the driver’s seat as he joins me in the back. “He’ll be taking us wherever we need to go this weekend. I figured that would give me more time to spend one on one with you, and cut down on the need to think about logistics.”
“That’s a good idea,” I say, giving a half-laugh. It’s still absolutely astounding to me, the kind of things that Finn can afford. I can barely afford to run a car – which is why I don’t have mine here – while he can afford not only a much nicer car but even someone to drive it for him. “Wow. I’ve never had a chauffeur before.”
“Well, maybe you should think about getting used to it,” Finn says. “I hire Bernard from time to time when I have long journeys to make, or if I want to go to a party and don’t want to worry about getting home after a drink. It makes things so much easier.”
“I can see how that could be the case,” I say. I glance around at the passing scenery, the city starting to fade away as we head towards the outskirts and beyond. It feels very strange to be sitting here with another man driving the car, while we’re in the back like kids. Then again, on the other hand, it feels pretty cool – and it puts me in mind of certain films or television shows I’ve seen, usually with a fair few hints about what people might get up to in the back of a chauffeured car…