Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
"I doubt it, but seriously, you'd think a woman from the city would be a little more open-minded," he says.
"Women don't like being lied to," Donnie growls. "No matter where they're from, asshole."
If it were a different day and I were in a different mood, I might stick around and ask a few questions, but I have other shit to deal with today.
"Don't sneak into Mrs. Clemson's bedroom on the next job," I mutter. "Mr. Clemson is likely to shoot you in the head."
"Mrs. Clemson?" Ronnie says with a scrunched-up nose. "I see beauty in all women, but that lady is like a hundred and twelve. You have nothing to worry about, boss."
"Good thing."
"Unless they have some granddaughters visiting. Hey, Donnie, what was that one girl's name that we dated from that family?"
"Jesus," I grumble, looking at the serious twin. "Do I need to get different guys on that job?"
Donnie shakes his head as he lifts a circular saw over the back of the truck, placing it in the bed. "We dated that girl in high school. We did right by her. Nothing to worry about."
"Call me if there's a problem," I say and walk away because the longer I stay around Ronnie, the more likely it is that I won’t be able to send them across town. Them not doing that job means I'll have to do it, and my mind is not in the right place to use power tools. I'd end up cutting off a finger or something.
"Rochelle!" Ronnie exclaims, but I don't pause my footsteps to listen to his story. "She’s the first one that you realized you like a finger—"
"Shut the fuck up, idiot," Donnie growls, and all I can do is shake my head and climb into my truck.
Those two utterly exhaust me on the best of days.
Chapter 35
Riley
I don't know when the shift happened in my life.
One day, I was a shy girl worried about what everyone thought about me, and I knew I could triangulate that back to high school and the insecurities I had as one of the girls who was carrying around a little more weight than most in my class. I accepted long before graduation that I was not going to be one of the first ones picked for anything, but I was likable and would eventually get an invite to the parties and trips out of town because I was a joy to be around.
No, I was accommodating.
If someone was short on cash, I would always offer to pay.
If someone needed a companion to the bathroom, I got asked because the other ones, the popular ones, couldn't be inconvenienced at a one of the big parties held in a pasture.
If someone wants to do something and everyone else has already declined, ask Riley. She never has plans.
In college, I decided to be someone different, and for the most part, it worked, but deep down, I wasn't the girl who snubbed everyone when I wasn't the first pick. I just like to be involved.
I stood up for myself, and instead of curling into a ball and just being grateful to eventually get asked to do something, I questioned when I wasn't one of the first ones asked. It made people uncomfortable, but it also let them know I wasn't one to get walked on either.
I did my best to try to stay that woman when I returned to Lindell, but slowly, I became the accommodating one again.
Afraid of what the answer might be, I've been sitting in my car outside of the diner. I have in mind what Ruth is going to say when I ask about Sage's suggestion on making to-go meals for people in the evenings.
She's a lovely person, but just like every other business owner in town, she protects her livelihood the way a pair of guard dogs would protect a wrecking yard from thieves.
The no-compete clause in town was set up for a reason, but I'm not some city folk trying to come in and make a dime by manipulating the other people in town.
I'm not being selfish. I just want to cook for others because I love it and want to be able to make a living doing it.
As hell-bent as I've been about not changing my menu, I'll do what I have to do in order to stay in town. I can't stomach the idea of having to go back to the city. The cost of living is too high, and from my experience when I was in college, the majority of the people are folks I just don't want to be around on a daily basis.
I know I just need to pull up my big girl panties and go ask, but that's taking a little time for me to build that courage.
From my position outside of the diner, I can see that there aren't any other people inside. It's the lull between the lunch rush and the dinner rush, and I know that now is the best time.