Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Violet hums a tune as she ladles batter into the frying pan.
“That’s a pretty song. What is it?” I ask as I check the sheet of bacon cooking in the oven.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m taking drama and we’re doing a play. We’ve been rehearsing a lot lately.”
So Violet enjoys acting. Another tidbit into her life. “What’s the play?”
“Alice in Wonderland.”
“And who are you?”
“The Queen of Hearts.”
My hand freezes on the bowl of fresh berries that Raj washed and prepared. “Violet! That’s like the main character!”
She spares a glance over her shoulder to roll her eyes at me. “No, Alice is the main character. Becca Taylor got Alice.” She sneers at the girl’s name.
“Do we not like Becca Taylor?”
“She told people that the only reason I got the role was because my mom was dying.”
“So we hate Becca Taylor.” That might not be the mature thing to say, but I’m not trying to parent Violet, and besides, I kind of do hate whoever this snotty, jealous girl is. “Whatever, so you’re the next main character.”
“Most people would say that’s the Mad Hatter. Or the Cheshire Cat.”
“Okay, fine! But the Queen of Hearts is the villain. That’s always the best role to play.” At least, it’s the most fun to watch. “Good for you, Vi. I’ve never had the guts to stand onstage.” I didn’t mean to shorten her name, it just happened. It’s what everyone in the Outdoor Crew did if they didn’t give you a nickname like Red. Connor was Con, Ronan was Ro. Some of the guys called me Abs.
Violet’s cheeks lift in a small smile. If it bothers her that I called her that, she doesn’t say anything.
“Abbi?” Henry’s deep voice booms from the penthouse entrance.
“In the kitchen!” I call back, my heart skipping beats, both in excitement and apprehension.
“You’ve got five seconds to take off your clothes before I bend you over the counter and—”
“Look who’s here!” It’s nearly a scream, my voice up several notches with sudden panic. In hindsight, maybe my plan wasn’t the best idea after not seeing him all week.
Henry appears then, freezing momentarily as he spots Violet, mid-flip with a pancake. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I had no idea you were here,” he says slowly. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Henry blush, but his cheeks are flushed red.
“Obviously not.” She wrinkles her nose as she returns to her pancakes. “I guess we’re not eating at the counter. Is the table safe?”
He shoots me a “Thanks for warning me” look.
“Welcome back.” I overcompensate with a wide smile. “I hope you’re hungry!”
“So that’s how you two ended up here, in matching pajamas?” Henry asks between mouthfuls. Violet may be messy in the kitchen, but she makes perfectly round and tasty dollar pancakes.
“Yeah. The first half is due on Monday. We worked on it last night. I think I’m halfway done?” She says it like it’s a question rather than a fact. “As for the matching pajamas, that was all Abbi. Your fiancée is odd.”
“What? I liked them! The material is so soft!” I emphasize that by smoothing my palm over my sleeve.
Henry smirks. “It’s a little early for Christmas, isn’t it?”
“Christmas?” Violet peers at her pajamas, not understanding.
I laugh. “They’re red and blue, Henry.” To her, I explain, “He has a hard time with blue and green.”
“Huh. Really …” She cocks her head and looks at him as if this tiny bit of information is fascinating.
“Why?” Henry pauses, his fork halfway to his mouth. “Do you too?”
“Nope. I’m normal.” She bites off a piece of her bacon.
Henry snorts. “You like your school?”
“It’s fine.” She shrugs, chewing. “It’s school.”
“Violet is playing the Queen of Hearts,” I chip in.
“Who’s that?”
“You know, Alice in Wonderland? Girl falls down a rabbit hole?”
“Oh. Right. A fairy tale.” Henry frowns, and it dawns on me that Crystal McGuire was probably too busy spending her husband’s money and embezzling from a children’s charity to read bedtime stories to her kids. “So you like acting?”
“I guess.” Another shrug. Did I shrug so much when I was her age?
Henry studies her for a long moment as she eats. “Your mother was involved with the school plays at Hartley.”
Violet nods. “She used to put me in drama camp every summer. She insisted I had natural talent.”
“She played the piano.” He says this more to himself, as if his memory is jogged.
Violet’s eyes wander to the baby grand. “Yeah. She did the music for our plays when I was in middle school.”
“Do you play?”
“Nope.” Violet’s mood is souring quickly with talk of her mother.
Henry’s phone chirps and he reaches for it without hesitation. I’ve gotten used to this—his tether to his company—but I reach out beneath the table with my foot to nudge his shin. A silent plea for him to ignore it.
“It’s important. Just a sec,” he murmurs, his focus already on the screen.