Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 140874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
He gave me a tight smile. “I suppose if I reframe it, it could be flattering. You were trying to protect our relationship. You were just going about it in a way that was mildly insulting to me.”
I snorted dismally. “Just mildly?”
He shrugged. “Just mildly. Because you were right. If it came down to it, of course I would choose you over Valerie. You’re going to be my wife, Sophie. You don’t have to be threatened by anyone else.”
“Well, at least this gives us something to talk about to Dr. Ashley.” It astounded me that Neil could be so gracious about all of my bullshit. Although he claimed to be less emotionally mature than me, the twenty-four-year difference in our ages did give him the upper hand in relationships. He’d already made huge mistakes, while I had a whole lifetime of fucking up in front of me.
Whole life or not, when we hit mid-June and no word from Holli, things looked dire.
Neil and I were lying in our bed, the windows open to let in the sea breeze and sounds. The sheet lay tangled around us, and though I was unbearably sweaty from all the hard work I’d just put in on top of him, I snuggled up at his side.
“Bravo,” he said through a yawn.
“Thanks.” I smiled to myself in the darkness. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”
I’d nearly fallen asleep when I startled awake. “Did you ever find the red checkbook?”
His answer was preceded by a hiss of shame. “No, I knew I was forgetting something.”
I groaned and kicked my feet in the most tired temper tantrum I’d ever had. “The contractor is coming at eleven.”
“Then I will get up at nine and look for it.” He thought I was overreacting, I could tell from his tone.
“No, I don’t want an alarm. I just want to sleep in and snuggle you. I love waking up with you.” I burrowed my face in his armpit.
He lifted his arm and scooted away from me. “I will get out of this bed at nine and not a minute before. It can wait until morning.”
“Ugh, fine.” I rolled away to the side and sat up.
“Where are you going?” he called after me as I padded to the door.
“I think I saw it in your desk in the library.” It would drive me crazy all night thinking it was still missing. The contractor was coming with his team to finish alterations on the home theatre. Neil had wanted a set up closer to what we’d had in the Manhattan apartment, with a comfy bed we could lay on to watch movies. That had been one of the things I’d missed most from the apartment, so I was happy to have it copied here.
It was weird walking around the house naked, because it was so big. It felt like I would bump into someone, even though logically I knew we were alone.
Because he was ridiculously afraid of the loft where I’d made my office, Neil’s desk was in the room he’d designated as the library. I think it was supposed to be some kind of morning parlor, because it always had a lot of sun. Except for now, when the full moon illuminated it. My bare feet slapped on the wood floor in the darkness, and I knew I was close to the desk when my soles landed soundlessly on the Persian carpet. Holding my hands out in front of me, I walked until I bumped into what I was looking for. I pulled the chain to the little desk lamp with the prairie-style glass shade and opened the long drawer that spanned the front of the desk.
Neil’s office in London had been a nightmare of clutter, and his desk was no exception. I shifted through random pens, empty pill bottles, tape, a spilled box of staples—when on Earth did he ever need staples, for Christ’s sake?—and pricked my hand on loose thumbtacks, but I did come up with the checkbook. I thrust it triumphantly in the air, even though I was the only one there.
I was about to run back to the bedroom with it, to gloat about finding it and tease him about the mess in his office, but when I shut the drawer, the computer mouse bumped and the screen lit up with the purple northern lights of Mac OS X.
I’d been checking my email obsessively, hoping to hear a reply from Holli. A war started in my brain, between just check really quick and you can check in the morning. The latter was technically correct; anything in my inbox at the moment would still be there when I woke up. But the former seemed to know that I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep, now that the thought had entered into my head.