Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 137443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
“Say it.”
“I usually don’t condone spilling your guts to anyone because it always gets messy. But I’m proud of you, Darby. You gave it back as quick as he dished it out today. He’s obviously still harboring resentment of your disappearance, but instead of taking it like a doormat, you blasted that shit right back.”
“Thanks. I wish I’d found a better way of expressing my feelings other than reciting his children’s birth statistics.”
“Heat of the moment works for you. It always has.”
“Can’t wait until you get here.”
“See you Thursday night.”
We hang up, and I scoot lower on the sofa, curling into Runner and rubbing lightly on his belly. Stephanie’s right. We have a ton to discuss, and all of it could mean enormous things for the expansion of DG Creations. The proposal on the table offers more than I could ever imagine, but it comes with sacrifices.
Stephanie knows where my apprehensions stem from. The one time in my life I made a sacrifice to benefit myself, I ended up losing Pierce. And I barely recovered.
But she’s right about a few things. Pierce is harboring resentment and deserves the truth. And he’s going to get it, on my terms. Then, hopefully, I’ll find closure.
I force those thoughts out of my head and move to what happens tomorrow. I’m going to personally deliver the gifts to the hospital, taking my mom with me so she can be a part of it.
DG Creations was born in Charlotte, even though I worked on the concept for years here. Not many know it was birthed from the kitchen of Annie Graham and how long it took me to perfect some of the specialty recipes.
Tomorrow, everyone will know.
Because, ready or not, it’s my homecoming debut.
Chapter 5
Pierce
Someone’s going to fucking pay.
Men scatter out of my way as I stalk to my truck and throw my hard hat to the ground with so much force it cracks. It doesn’t faze me as this is not the only casualty of the day. My coffee pot didn’t make it past the first pour, my bathroom mirror is splintered, and I’m pretty sure my administrative assistant is going to quit.
None of it matters right now because my anger is raging to the point of violence. I rip the phone off my hip and call the project manager who answers on the first ring.
“Did the brownstone project change their choices of marble last night?” I bark.
“Not that I know of,” Joe answers cautiously.
“Funny then, because six of the fourteen units have the wrong countertops, vanities, and wet bar tops already installed. Not to mention, the backsplashes have been started.”
“You have got to be shitting me!” he roars through the phone, his anger somewhat satisfying.
“I expect to see your ass here in the next fifteen minutes. Cancel your day until we find out what happened. That’s a fucking order.”
It’s unlike me, but today, I want people to be raging. I want other’s blood to be searing through their veins to the point of burning a hole in their gut. Maybe I’m a sadistic asshole, but there’s no calming what is brewing inside.
I jump in my truck and drive around to the back of the job site. This is the last stage of the brownstones, and the area is practically deserted.
My mood has been crazed since walking out on Darby. My first instinct was to lay into Connie, but that wasn’t an option. So, I poured myself into work, avoiding as much human contact as possible. Even a two-hour round with a punching bag didn’t repress the anger inside. I stare out of my windshield and can’t stop my brain from replaying the scene yesterday.
She was always beautiful, but the woman who swung that door open threatened to take me to my knees. Same amber eyes, same pouty lips, same gorgeous face—but that was the end to similarities.
She’s bone-skinny, her dark hair was in a tight, tied ponytail, her skin pale, and her eyes were vacant. I know I took her off-guard, but for a minute, I thought she’d pass out.
My Darby was curvy in all the right ways, quick with a response, and sun-kissed by the outdoors, taking every chance to soak in the sunshine.
Still, she had the ability to make my pulse race and my dick hard with one glance. She’s stunning.
The air in my truck begins to suffocate me, and I stagger out, pacing the abandoned area and kicking up every rock I find.
Never in a million years did I expect what happened. Now, I’ve opened Pandora’s box and am so deep in questions it’s going to drive me insane.
I love my kids and have done my best to give them a normal life. No matter what, it’s not going to change the fact that they’re never going to grow up in a traditional nuclear family. Darby was right; Connie was a tiger ready to pounce when word spread that Darby left town. She worked me hard, playing the role of the sympathetic friend. My mom warned me more than once to watch out for her, but I was stupid blind. Connie’s advances became more and more assertive. She was a master manipulator, and I was in no shape to see the signs. I had sex with her twice, both times when we were partying, and both times with a condom.