Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Of course. While I have you on the phone, I arranged for a call with Charlie’s office and Renn for next Thursday. It was the earliest I could schedule it.”
“Did you forward my notes after my call with Charlie to Renn?”
She laughs again. “Yes. Yes, I did. And Renn sent back a colorful interpretation of your notes, as well as commentary that would make for an amusing read if you’re bored on the plane in the morning.”
“One more thing, I have that event tomorrow night.”
“I called Renn’s personal assistant and had her send a new suit to your house this morning,” Kylie says. “It’s hanging in your closet right beside your socks from the dry cleaner.”
I chuckle. “They found them?”
“You were so pissed about them that I offered a reward if they could be located. Astrid grabbed them for you.”
“Send Astrid flowers or something and tell her thank you.”
“Consider it done.”
I hesitate. “While you’re at it, could you have a bouquet of peonies sent to my house tomorrow afternoon? I need them there before I land.”
“Oh. Sure,” she says, bamboozled. “Any certain colors? Any vibe you’re after?”
I scratch my head. What color flowers do I want to send? I have no clue.
“Orange or peach,” I say, remembering the color of Carys’s skirt the other night. “I assume there are orange peonies.”
“I shall scour every florist in this city until I find them.”
“Thanks.”
“Anything else?” she asks, amused.
“That’s it. Thanks, Kylie.”
“You’re very welcome, sir. Have a safe flight and enjoy your event tomorrow.”
“Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.”
I down my drink and then head into the bedroom.
My bags are packed, ready to go in the morning. It’s an odd sensation wanting to be home for something other than being alone. Usually, I’m ready to get back to my place to wall myself off from the world. It’s concerning that I’m itching to return to see someone—especially Carys.
I hoped putting miles between us after spending the night with her would put things on ice. Surely, I’d regain my composure. I’d remember all the reasons she was a bad idea and would return to Nashville with boundaries back in place.
Instead, I’m ordering flowers for her and noticing cacti. Who notices cacti? Someone who’s fucked. That’s who.
“I only want one thing from you. And it’s not your heart.”
I sit on the edge of the bed as a heaviness settles in my chest. I’m not egotistical enough to believe this is anything more than her having a good time. I’m forty years old, for fuck’s sake. My job takes over much of my life. I’m not the kind of person who someone with their whole life in front of them chooses to spend more than a few weeks—a few months with, at best.
I’m Gannon Reid Brewer, after all.
My phone vibrates on the bed. When I see her name on the screen, my entire body exhales.
Carys: Okay, I went shopping today and bought three dresses. I need to pick one and take the other two back. But, since I don’t really know where we’re going, I don’t know which one to choose. Pictures incoming. Pick one.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Three pictures load in quick succession.
My jaw hangs open as I swipe through them.
The first dress is black, but that’s not what I see. I notice how her eyes sparkle as she poses in front of the mirror to snap the image. The second dress is green, but her smile is more genuine. The third dress is a deep purple. She stands taller in this snapshot, her shoulders back and her chin lifted. She exudes confidence and beauty—like a woman who feels good in what she’s wearing.
I smile as I type out my response.
Me: You’re beautiful.
Carys:
Me: I love them all. But I pick the purple one.
Carys: Yay! That’s the one I was going to pick, too. But the black one is a little classier, I think, and the green one is more playful. I wasn’t sure what to do.
Me: Keep them all.
Carys: I can’t. I’ll never wear them and it’s irresponsible financially.
Can she not tell me shit like that? Because it makes me like her even more, and that’s dangerous.
I shake my head, feeling myself slipping closer to feelings I don’t want to have. I’d offer to buy the dresses for her, but I know she’ll fight me and the last thing I want to do is make her feel inferior—especially over something as stupid as money.
Me: I’ll text you when I’m on my way to get you tomorrow evening. My flight’s delayed, but I’ll keep you informed as the day goes on.
Carys: Sounds good. I can’t wait.
Me either.
Carys: What are you going to do for the rest of the night?
Me: I’m going to find some food. I haven’t eaten since breakfast and it was a long, draining day.
Carys: Want me to send you something?
I laugh.