Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 111742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
“What’re your intentions?” Ace asks after taking one of my pawns with his knight. Though his eyes never leave the board, I sense he’s sizing me up and doesn’t mean my plans with the game.
“To take Janey to lunch. We have some things to talk about.”
“Mm-hmm,” he hums. “You the one who broke her heart? Coming to make amends and beg her to take you back?” he asks blandly, but his nonchalance is as big a façade as my charm is.
“Not exactly.” I’m not sure how much he knows about Janey’s personal life, but given the stink eye he’s shooting at me with his yellow-tinged eye, I’d say it’s enough to be pissed. And protective of Janey. “We met recently. Her other guy broke up with her, and I stepped in as a date for a wedding.”
“You are him, then. She talked about that other fella a bit, but she came back from her vacation and all the nurses up there been a’tittering about the new man she met. Peep, peep, peep like hens, all of ’em.” He scans the board, already knowing his play but making me wait so I’m forced to hear him out. “Heard a few of ’em tell her ‘good luck’ on Friday, so I figured she was gonna have herself a good weekend too. But this morning? Well, something’s dulled that girl’s shine and I don’t like it a bit.” Ace moves his queen and sits back, letting me chew on that.
Janey might not have confided in Ace, but he knows a lot and I can appreciate his observant nature. “That does sound like me,” I agree. “But I’m here to fix it.”
He eyes the gas station bag beside me. “Gonna take more than some fizzy water and candy. Where’re the flowers, the sharp suit, the clean-shaven face?” he demands as he scans me head-to-toe with a raised brow, obviously finding my jeans, T-shirt, and scruff lacking.
“I thought of that, but I figured she’s around flowers all day.” Focusing on the one thing I can address, I gesture to the three fresh arrangements in the lobby, presuming there are more scattered throughout the facility. “I wanted to get her something . . . specific that’d brighten her day. And I’m hoping to take her to lunch, not a five-star restaurant.” I look down the hallway, wishing she were walking this way to get me out of this conversation.
Almost like she heard my prayer, I see Janey coming. Her scrubs are purple today, her hair pulled into a puff of curls on her crown, and her sensible rubber shoes squeak slightly on the linoleum floor. She looks gorgeous, especially when I see her back ramrod straight, her chin jutted out, and her eyes narrowed in on me.
“Mr. Culderon, is this man bothering you?” she asks, ignoring me to gift the old man with a warm smile I’d kill to have aimed in my direction.
“Nah, we were playing a friendly game of chess, weren’t we, Cole? By the way, checkmate.” He moves his queen again, and with a scan of the board, I can see that he’s got me. I’ve got no counters, and he’s good enough that I didn’t even see it coming.
“Good game, Ace,” I reply, laying my king down on the board. “Thank you.”
He stands and holds out his hand. When I take it, I’m surprised at his firm grip again. “Don’t hurt this nice lady’s heart or I’ll tear you up. Ya hear me?” he warns.
“Heard, sir.” I’m not afraid of Ace, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be respectful. His heart’s in the right place, and for all I know, he’s the mafia kingpin of the care center.
Ace shuffles off, leaving Janey and me alone though Jackie is back at her desk, typing something into the computer from a stack of paper. I’m pretty sure that if I could see her screen, she’s typing nothing but gibberish as her ears are tuned in on Janey and me.
“What are you doing here?” Janey hisses, trying to keep her voice down.
It’s ironically the same thing I asked her when she showed up to my workplace, but I don’t point out that particular similarity. Jackie is watching us like a hungry hawk wanting some gossip, so I match Janey’s volume, keeping my voice low as I say, “Hoping to take you to lunch and apologize. I shouldn’t have invaded like that. Your home is a sanctuary and I fucked that up. I’m sorry.”
Apologies are not my strong suit. I can’t actually remember the last time I apologized for anything. Maybe a throw-away ‘I’m sorry’ when I tell a client bad news, but to actually mean it? Not in ages.
“Psst! Show her what’s in the bag!” Jackie advises excitedly from across the room.
Janey looks over her shoulder to her co-worker, then back to me, so I grab the bag and hold it out to her. As she looks inside, I explain, “Those are your favorites, so I figured they’d be welcome, even if I wasn’t.”