Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
I laughed that off until they explained that they were present during a benefit concert I took part in last year in London. I had no idea Alex was sitting in the wings as I performed one of my original pieces.
“Hey, Ava!”
The sound of my name turns my head to the left almost immediately. I scan all the faces of the people standing in front of a deli before I land on one I recognize.
It’s Ryden Duran.
Apparently, I’m not the only one who recognizes him because two women scream out his name in unison before they head in his direction. I’m tempted to keep walking toward my apartment, but the fact that he’s waving at me stops me in place.
I don’t want to be rude, but I do want to get home to work.
He grins as each of the women takes a picture with him before he darts around more people to get to where I am.
“It’s a small world.”
“Very,” I agree with a nod of my head.
He smiles, and I admit it’s a good look on him. He’s wearing a white T-shirt and jeans. Even if he weren’t famous for what he does on the ice, he’d turn heads.
He glances to his left. “Where are you headed?”
I gesture to his right. “Home.”
He weighs that while rubbing his jaw. “Let’s grab some lunch first.”
I shake my head. “Maybe another time. I have a lot of work to do.”
“One sandwich.” He taps a fingertip to his chin. “Half a sandwich if you’re really pressed for time. I want to run something by you that I’m planning for Roxy.”
I barely know his sister, so I offer him an alternative. “Isn’t Joslyn better suited for that?”
“It’s about music.” He laughs. “Jos doesn’t have a musical bone in her body.”
I should brush him off and head home, but my curiosity won’t let me do that. “I can do thirty minutes and half of a sandwich.”
“Deal. You pick the deli. I’ll pay.”
I point at the deli he was just standing in front of. “That one is too busy. I know a diner that makes the best BLTs in the city. We can go there.”
“I’m game.” He chuckles. “That’s not a hockey pun.”
I smile because that was so bad. “I’ll grab a cab for us.”
I turn and raise my hand in the air at an approaching taxi.
Home is where I should be, but I’m hungry, and if I can help a little girl in any way, I’m more than happy to do that.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Harrison
I granted my youngest sister her greatest wish this morning. I allowed her the pleasure of sleeping in.
She spent yesterday with our brother. By the time Ryden dropped her off last night, it was nearly ten. Her sneakers were filled with sand, her cheeks reddened from the sun, and her hair a tangled mess from the waves of the ocean, but she was damn happy.
It took me until midnight to get her calmed down enough that she could sleep.
She did that in my arms on the couch before I carried her to bed, checking on Mr. Greenface on my way out of her bedroom.
It all meant a lost Monday to me because I didn’t wake her up as early as I had planned. I thought she’d accompany me to the office, and while I took care of a few meetings, she’d spend time with my assistant, but that didn’t happen.
I pushed everything until later in the week and decided to take the day off to hang out with her.
Now, we’re walking down the sidewalk headed toward our lunch destination. It was Roxy’s choice based solely on the fact that she claims they make the best banana pudding in the city.
I don’t know if our mother brings her here or if it’s the nanny, but I’m willing to give it a try.
“Crispy Biscuit,” I read the name imprinted on the yellowing awing hanging on the building above a door and window. “Are you sure this is the right place?”
She pats one of the pockets of her overalls. “I’m sure.”
I grab hold of the handle and swing open the door, motioning for Roxy to enter first. She does, and before I can absorb what the hell is happening, she’s taken off in a run, squealing something that I can’t quite make out.
I panic and take off after her, dodging a woman holding a tray of food and sidestepping a guy pushing his chair out.
When I finally spot the top of Roxy’s head and the red ribbon holding her ponytail in place, I curse inwardly before I drop a “fuck,” that is loud enough for the people around me to hear.
Roxy’s wrapped up in the arms of our brother, but it’s the woman sitting across the table from him that I can’t tear my gaze away from.