Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
“Zoe,” Cooper starts and then looks down at his wife who just crosses her arms over her chest. “I just don’t want you to be put in that situation.” He tries to be diplomatic about it, but there is no turning it around because it’s borderline sexist.
“Yeah, and you’re a girl,” Matthew finally says. “Not okay. Never okay. It’s bad enough that one is pregnant.”
“By my husband,” Zara says, and then the whole group starts talking at the same time.
I walk away from them and go to the side table, grabbing a water bottle, and then I’m cornered by the crazy French lady, Vivienne. “They are nuts, aren’t they?” she says, getting close to me. “So how do you like the city?”
“It’s good,” I say. “I’m just getting to know it really.”
“You should take my number and give me a call. I can show you around.” She smiles at me and inches even closer. “I know my way around.”
“I’m sure you do.” I smile at her, and thankfully, I’m saved when a kid starts crying. When she turns her head, I run away to the side where I sit in a chair and just take in the backyard.
An hour later, most of the kids and parents have left, and the only ones lingering seem to be the immediate family. I look at my watch and see that it’s almost dinnertime. I also realize I haven’t wanted to use today. I spent the whole day socializing, and not once did I feel the need to get high. Not fucking once. Also, no one treated me differently or watched what they said or how they acted. As I look around, I realize I haven’t felt comfortable in my skin in the longest time.
“There you are. I was wondering if you had left without saying goodbye,” Vivienne says, finding me again, and before I can even answer, Zoe walks over.
“Vivienne, there you are,” Zoe says as she walks over, wearing her dress again. “The car just got here.”
“Already?” Vivienne says. “Let me go and get my things.” She walks away from us.
“Are you guys going back to the city?” I ask her, and she looks up at me, and I can see that she got some sun on her nose.
“Yeah.” She nods. “Would you like a ride?”
“Yeah. That would be great.” I smile at her and look around to see if anyone is close by. “Listen, about yesterday …”
“It’s all right. We all have crappy days,” she says. “Today is mine. I swear I’m never drinking wine again.”
I laugh at her now. “I bet you’ll forget that by next Saturday.”
“Wow, you really give me credit. I was thinking by Tuesday,” she says, laughing. She stops talking beside me and looks over at Justin. He’s just taken his shirt off and has fingernail marks all down his back.
“Mom, Justin got attacked!” Zara shouts, and Justin looks at her weirdly. Matthew goes up to him, turns him around, and whispers something in his ear. He puts his shirt right back on. “Cover it up.” Their mom stands up and then walks to him, and all you can see is Justin shrugging his shoulders.
“I’m ready!” Vivienne yells, and then Zoe looks at me.
I say goodbye to Matthew and his wife, thanking her for having me, and make plans to be on the ice with Max and Evan the next day. “Can I sit all the way in the back?” Vivienne asks, looking at the Suburban that has come to get us. “I need to lie down.” The man stands by the side with the door open and nods at Vivienne as she makes her way into the back. The driver puts the seat down, and I get in and look out the window, seeing Zoe carry her big bag with two bottles of water under her arm.
“Here,” she says, tossing the water at Vivienne. “My mother didn’t want you to get thirsty.” She laughs and then puts her bag in next to me and then sits down. The car door closes. “We are going to drop Vivienne off first if that’s okay.”
“I’m the one tagging along,” I tell her, and she just nods. She then takes out her phone and her fingers move a million miles a minute. “Do you work every day?”
“No,” she says, not looking up. “Or maybe I do.” She finally looks up. “If a deal is on the line, I work every day. If not, I take Sunday off.”
“That makes sense,” I tell her and then look out the window when she looks back down at her phone.
“Look at this,” she says, moving the bag next to me and coming over with her phone. “It’s going on the market tomorrow.”
“Then how do you know?” I ask her, and she shrugs.
“Someone sent me the listing. It’s in Tribeca. Two bedrooms, three bathrooms, three point two million,” she tells me, all excited. “One thousand eight hundred square feet of living area.” I grab her phone and swipe through the pictures. “Are you busy tomorrow?”