Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
He kissed me again and rounded the corner, striding down the block alone. I waited a moment, then followed him, watching. He walked with his head up, his shoulders straight. His jeans hugged his ass, and his stride ate up the distance quickly. He didn’t pause as he walked past the car, not sparing it a glance as he went by. My heart felt heavy as he moved farther away. My annoyance grew the closer I got to my building. I had checked my phone before we left for breakfast. There were no calls or messages. Not a word from my parents. Yet, here they were.
The back passenger door swung open, and my father stepped from the car, facing me as I drew close.
“Lottie,” he said as I stopped in front of him.
“Dad. Or should I say, Charles? Is this business-related?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t really like your tone.”
“I don’t like you showing up unannounced.”
He crossed his arms. “I wasn’t aware it was illegal to come by your daughter’s home to see her.”
“Not illegal. But highly unusual on your part.”
He had the grace to look uncomfortable. “Your mother wanted to check on you.”
I lowered myself to peer into the car. “Hello, Mom.”
“Lottie. You could be a little more welcoming.”
“I’m surprised to see you here.”
“That much is obvious.” She paused, her foot swinging in agitation. “Are you going to invite us up for tea or not?”
I was suddenly grateful that Logan had tidied up this morning. I had teased him about being picky, but he had made sure the condo showed no signs of our frantic coupling when we first got in the door last night. He had straightened the pictures, picked up the buttons, and wiped the puddles from our boots and jackets. I had made the bed, although I doubted my parents would venture from the living room.
“Of course,” I offered, knowing I had no choice. “Please come up.”
My mother sat on the edge of the sofa, looking around my eclectic place with a barely concealed shudder. What I found homey and warm, she thought of as shabby and castoffs. I had to admit, many of my things came from thrift stores or were items I had bought on Facebook Marketplace, etc. I loved painting and fixing them to make them my own.
Her lips thinned as I handed her a cup of tea, in the only matched cup and saucer I had. I knew she preferred tea in a proper cup. I liked the mismatched ones better but didn’t want to push it. I gave my dad a cup of coffee, knowing he disliked tea.
They were both uncomfortable in my space, aghast that I could choose to live here instead of one the sleek, modern places my father owed, or even better, in their building.
I would wither away and die under their scrutiny.
“Your father told me you didn’t go into the office yesterday.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“I don’t recall you having womanly issues before,” my mother stated primly.
I tried not to find her amusing. She was so stiff, if I poked her, she would explode. I recalled the mother I knew when I was much younger. She was warm and affectionate, always ready to talk or offer advice with a hug. Not this shell of a woman who barely made eye contact.
“It happens on occasion,” I murmured. “I’m feeling better.”
“You must be. You weren’t here when we arrived.”
“If you had called, I would have told you I was getting a few groceries. While I was out, I stopped and had breakfast.”
“I hope you don’t make a habit of disappearing.”
My patience snapped. “It was one day, Dad. One day. Surely to god, even the great Charles Prescott has taken a day off?”
“I have never taken a sick day, no.”
“What about when Josh died? You must have taken a day or two off to grieve? Or was the business more important than he was? I know it’s more important than I am.”
“Charlotte!” my father roared. “How dare you?”
“I dare because you showed up here this morning to check on me. Do you drop by every employee’s home who calls in sick?”
He glared. “Only my daughter’s.”
“I had the flu last year on the weekend and stayed home. You never checked on me then. If I had known all it took for you to notice was me taking a day off, I would have done so sooner.”
My father rose to his feet, the look on his face thunderous.
My mother cleared her throat. “I am shocked at your lack of respect, Charlotte.”
I remained silent, my blood humming through my veins, and my heart beating fast.
“You are obviously still not feeling yourself, Charlotte. I am going to give you a pass this time.”
“How magnanimous.”
“We obviously aren’t welcome here, so we will leave.”
“My parents are always welcome. My boss is not. This is my private place.”