Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Shaking off all the mixed emotions of the morning, I smile into the phone. “Of course. That’s what you pay me for.”
Breezy laughs. “Thanks, Nore. And listen, I talked to Chet Smith, our lawyer, again this morning, and he says the DA is salivating. Turns out not only were ole Tommy and Eleanor bribing and traumatizing a bevy of young girls who worked for him, they were also involved in a high-end prostitution ring that included underage girls.”
A prostitution ring? With underage girls?
My jaw goes unhinged. “Holy shit, you’re kidding me!”
“What?” Josie asks, overhearing. “What is it?”
“I hate to say it, but I’m not all that surprised.” Breezy is still in my ear. “Too many of these rich frou-frous are sickos behind closed doors. And they’re sooo good at hiding it until they’re not. Anyway, I’d say they’re going to get what’s coming to them, and when I have more updates, I’ll let you know.”
“Jesus. Thanks, Breezy.”
“Of course, babe. Let me know when the painting is with the courier, okay?”
“I will,” I agree, hanging up when she does. An eager Josie is waiting for the news with perked ears.
“What? What’s going on?”
The whole thing is so crazy I don’t know any other way to deliver the news besides just saying it as it is. “Thomas and Eleanor…they were running an underage prostitution ring.”
“That is so fucked up.”
“It’s sick,” I whisper, and my heart feels heavy thinking about all of the victims, all of the poor girls whose lives were ruined because of Thomas and our mother.
“But it’s almost shocking how a large part of me isn’t all that surprised.”
My head whips toward her. “Josie!”
“I know, Nore. I know.” She reaches out to grasp my hand. “But don’t you dare blame yourself for any of it, you hear me? If you hadn’t taken off from that wedding and made all the moves you have, they might still be at it, you know?”
I nod. I know. And if Alexis hadn’t been brave enough to hand me that letter on my wedding day, who knows what would have happened? Who knows how long they would’ve been able to keep doing what they were doing?
I climb out of Josie’s car and then clamber straight into my own, leaving her standing beside the Civic dumbfounded. “What are you doing? You’re going somewhere?”
The words are almost unbelievable as I say them. “Yep. To Bennett’s house. Wish me luck.”
Josie shakes her head. “You don’t need luck, babe. You’ve got Summer.”
Damn straight.
I punctuate the sentiment by pulling her pink sunglasses out of my purse and sliding them on my face.
47
Bennett
Candles litter the studio, and Norah’s painting—the one I’ve spent the last two days straight making—hangs casually on the wall. Pink and orange and peach all blend together in a swirling line and end in a chocolatey-brown center. It’s warm and inviting and perfectly encapsulates everything Norah Ellis is to me.
Thanks to Breezy’s involvement in my scheme, she should be here any second, and my heart is a Thoroughbred beneath my rib cage at the thought of seeing her.
Painstakingly long minutes pass in the flickering light as I will my ears to hear the sound of crunching gravel, so much so that when they finally do, I nearly convince myself I’m making it up.
But when moments pass and the sound of a car door slamming echoes across the walls, I steady myself for whatever this wild, loving troublemaker has to throw my way.
I deserve all of it, I’m sure, and maybe even more than that. But with Summer’s adoring affection on my heart and mind, I’m bound and determined to get to the good part, no matter what scary parts lie between me and it.
Norah’s head is down as she pushes through the door, the lack of overhead lights probably falsely assuring her that no one is in here. She slides Summer’s pink sunglasses off her face and into her purse, and the fact that she’s still wearing my daughter’s favorite lenses makes my heart feel too big to fit inside my chest.
I wait for her to notice the candles, and as she does, a gasp falls from her most perfect lips, and her brown gaze jerks up to meet mine.
I try on a smile, though I have the supreme feeling it’s haggard and shaky, and a magic light flares in her eyes.
“Bennett? What is all this?”
I step forward slowly, willing myself not to scare her by going too fast. She deserves to be cherished and romanced, and in order to do that, I have to find a way to be measured in my excitement.
“It’s what’s long overdue, Norah.”
She looks from me to the candles and back again, and then she jerks her head to the side when she sees the painting.
“What is that?” Her voice is a whisper.
“It’s you,” I say simply. “It’s what I feel, what I see, what my heart says when you’re around.”