Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 84000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
And now there’s Avril.
I’m used to having solutions to everything, but today it’s raining problems and I’m out of umbrellas.
Sophia was surprised that Avril being on academic probation was a problem for me personally. I suppose in a normal family, it would be my parents’ problem, but we’re not a normal family. Will I always play a pseudo-parental role in my sisters’ lives? I’m not sure I know how to relate to them any other way. I should be encouraging both of them to be more independent.
“You need to stay in school—”
Avril groans from the other room.
“Let me finish,” I say. “It doesn’t make any sense for you to quit when you don’t have any idea what you’re going to do. It’s not like you have anything lined up.”
Avril appears in the doorway. “I hate it, Worth.”
“So find something you want to do. Something you’re passionate about. This is your life, Avril. It’s not my responsibility to figure out what you want to do with it.”
“I told you, I can help you with this place.”
I sigh. Is she just looking for an easy out? I can’t tell. I need more data. “Then write me a plan. No whining. No excuses. Write me a plan for this place or whatever it is you want to do if you drop out of Columbia.”
“I don’t need your permission, you know. I could just drop out.”
I fix her with a stare. She knows she needs my okay to leave the Ivy League school I’ve been paying for.
“Okay, what kind of plan?” she relents.
“Tell me what you’re going to do. What experience and qualifications you need. I want a career plan from you. And don’t half-ass it. Do it properly. You need to sell me on this.”
A smile twitches at the edges of her mouth. “You’ll consider it?”
“I’ll consider the plan. But if it’s bullshit, it gets tossed, just like the ten proposals I get per week that I don’t think are worth my time. And you stay in school. But if it’s good, then, like I said—it’s your life.”
She bounces on her toes. “This is going to be the best plan you’ve ever fucking seen.”
That’s all I’ve ever wanted for my sisters—a life plan. I don’t want to see them disappear into nothing like my mother did after my dad died. I want them to have something to get up for every morning. For Mom, we weren’t enough. If Avril and Poppy find something to be passionate about, there will always be a light at the end of every tunnel.
It takes me a little by surprise when Avril slips her arm into mine and rests her head on my shoulder. “Thank you, Worth. You won’t regret this.”
I hope she’s right.
FIFTEEN
Sophia
I’m impressed with myself, and it’s not because of the pink cocktail dress I’m wearing. Despite going out with some of the girls from work last night, I did not booty-call Worth. And I managed not to tell the girls I got hitched in Vegas, even when I was three drinks down. I deserve a ten out of ten.
This dress isn’t right. I pull another from my wardrobe—my last option. I just don’t have a wardrobe that screams I’m married to a billionaire. I don’t know what Worth likes. Not that I’m dressing for him. Except, maybe I am. He seems so into me, I feel like I need to live up to who he thinks I am.
My phone buzzes. It’s Worth.
I answer. “Hey.”
“I’m buzzing your buzzer. Can you let me in?”
“Shit, it’s broken. I’ll come down. I just need to decide what to wear.”
“Whatever you’ve got on is fine,” he says.
“Oh okay, jeans and a white tee okay for you?”
“Completely fine,” he says. “You’ll look beautiful in anything. I’ll be waiting.”
I groan and hang up the phone. He always says the sweetest things. But surely he can’t mean that we can have our first date when I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt.
I put on a black cocktail dress—which is Holly Golightly meets Zara—grab my bag and pink coat, and head downstairs.
Worth is leaning against a black SUV. He wears a long gray coat with the collar turned up, because it’s fucking freezing. He looks so hot, I want to suggest skipping dinner and going back upstairs.
But I want to get to know Worth. He’s a good guy. He’s also my husband. Our marriage is essentially just a piece of paper—it shouldn’t mean anything. And yet… it does. I’m just not sure what.
“Pink suits you,” he says as he greets me with a kiss.
“Would you have said green suited me if my coat had been green?”
“Absolutely. Because green does suit you.”
I grin up at him. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so adored. I’ve been love-bombed before, but that’s not what Worth is doing. I haven’t known him long, but I know him well enough to understand that he doesn’t say anything he doesn’t mean. He adores me. And instead of it making me deeply uncomfortable, I kinda like it.