Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 111610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
I mean literally right now—like going home or getting lunch. But Samantha has bigger plans.
As we walk across the parking lot, she tells me, “I’ve been thinking about that. I want to write a book. About the consequences of radicalizing young men, and how ultimately, we all lose if there isn’t equality, respect, and communication between men and women.”
She pauses as I open the door for her. I wait for her to sit and then close the door, striding around to the driver’s side.
“It’s a work-in-progress,” she says as I get in the car. “But what do you think? It’ll be a long road, because I’ll need professional experience, letters after my name, and I don’t even know what else to be taken seriously, but yeah, that’s what I want to do.”
I smile at her as I start the car, in awe of the brilliance of her mind. “That sounds amazing.”
“Good, because I’m going to ask the guys at the club to be my initial interviews. They have a unique perspective on what listening to people like Jake McGibbons can do. They lost a friend to it.”
She’s extraordinary, thinking of the loss the guys at the club feel at a time when she nearly lost herself. But I understand her point. The whole incident has been messy, painful, and sent shockwaves through our entire membership.
I’ve largely said ‘fuck it’ to all that and put my entire focus onto Samantha. She might be ready to care for others and put some good into the world, but I’m pretty locked onto making sure she’s safe, has what she needs, and is supported at all times.
I’ll go back to the club eventually. Plans for an official reopening are already in the works, but for now, we’ve chosen to provide a space for the current members to get together without any gossip-hungry newbies, and Evan has been running everything while I take some time with Samantha.
“I think they’d appreciate talking to you,” I reply, heading down the highway.
After a few miles, Samantha looks around. “Where are we going?”
“Carter and Luna’s,” I answer. “They’re vying for the Best Uncle and Aunt award, and I thought we could have a little fun usurping them. I’m thinking ice cream for Grace, a pup cup for Nutbuster—peanut butter, of course, and a game of tag in the yard. Once they’re totally wound up and think we’re the best, you and I will sneak out, leaving Carter and Luna to be the bad guys who require things like baths and bedtimes.” I look her way with a mischievous grin, hoping my plan for distraction and fun sounds good.
Samantha laughs. “Love it. As long as I can get strawberry cheesecake ice cream.”
CHAPTER 29
SAMANTHA
Today has been a long time coming, and I’m ready. But I stop outside the front door of the club and Chance stops at my side.
“We don’t have to go in. I’ll call Evan and tell him to reschedule,” he says, his brow wrinkled and worry in his blue eyes.
“That’s not it,” I reassure him. “This is the first step of something new. I want to savor it.”
The new thing is the next evolution of the Gentlemen’s Club.
Chance and Evan have done so much good work and changed so many lives for the better, and now, the hope is to expand their outreach. And I’m going to be a part of it.
I wish it hadn’t taken something traumatic to get to this point, but I’m excited to move forward.
I smooth invisible wrinkles from my gray skirt, straighten Chance’s pink tie, and take a deep breath. Chance waits for me to nod and then opens the door. I step into the coolness of the club and see a friendly face.
“Well, issa’bout damn time ya got here. And where the hell’s my cinnamon roll, young lady?” Seeing Jim at his desk with a smile on his face patches up a wound that was still bleeding. I knew he was okay, and I’ve talked to him on the phone, apologizing that Stephen used my stun gun on him, which he promptly told me was ‘a pile of cow manure’, but that’s not the same as seeing him in person, vibrant and giving me shit.
“Knew I was forgetting something,” I say with a matching smile.
He comes around from the desk with his arms out, and I hug him, squeezing him tight. “Thank you so much,” I mumble into his shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Girl, it’d take a whole lot more’n a lil zippy-zap to keep Ol’ Jim down. How’re you doin’, though? To hear Evan tell it, you fought your way free like a bear scrabbling to get outta fishin’ net.”
I have no idea what that means, but given the proud look in his eyes, I take it as a compliment. “I’m okay,” I answer. “Just want to get this thing started.”