Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 161434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 807(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 807(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
“She does, and I tell her he’s fine. I dunno, he seems like an okay guy. He took care of you and Millie—”
“Until he didn’t,” I snap.
“I bet he thinks he was still taking care of you, Reese. But there’s one thing I need to say...”
“What’s that?”
“What happened isn’t something you should ever be ashamed of. You didn’t just randomly hook up with your boss. He moved you in. That’s a relationship, sis.” I can hear her fighting back a smile. “After all the hell Will put me through, I still don’t actually regret anything.”
“What?” I do a double take. “He’s a colossal jackass.”
“He is. But he’s also my daughter’s father. Without enduring his bullshit, I wouldn’t have Millie, and she’s worth every second. I also learned a lot from our relationship.”
My lips twist. Abby has never been stupid. What the hell could Will Frisk teach her?
“Like what?” I whisper.
“Growing up in the foster system and moving around made me feel like I wasn’t worth having a home and a family...and if I wasn’t worth those simple, normal things, then something must’ve been wrong with me.”
I nod, pressing the phone closer to my head. She’s preaching to the choir.
“But when I left the system...there was no one there to help. I had to stand on my own, to help look after you, and it was hard doing that with no self-esteem. I stumbled into bad habits as a coping mechanism. You remember how it was...”
“I do,” I tell her.
“I could work sixty hours a week and live on ramen, but I couldn’t live without my next fix,” she continues, drawing a shaky breath. “I had to grow a backbone when I knew Millie was coming. Addicts’ kids end up in the system. I wouldn’t let that happen. I had to be able to function without my cope. I had to learn that I’m worthy of love, sober and clean, because I love Millie. And if I could learn all of that from my crappy stupid drug dealer ex, then there has to be something positive you’re walking away with. Nick Brandt crossed your path for a reason.”
I flop back, dumbstruck by how on-point she is today.
“Your choices now are this: talk to him and see if there’s something worth fixing, or move on. Either option is only bad if you let it be,” Abby says.
I bring my knees up to my chest and hug them.
“I guess it’s option B. You know I won’t go crawling back. I’m not another one of his love it and leave it supermodels.”
“If that’s what you want. Choose wisely, sis.”
“I’m not sure it’s what I want, Abby, but it’s what I get. It’s what’ll keep me sane.”
“Just don’t work too hard before you’re ready. You can’t throw up driving down the street again. Your work car’s way too nice,” she says with a laugh.
I snicker at the story I told her earlier.
“Yeah. Ward was pretty terrified when it happened. He was all, ‘Dammit, Reese, you’re going to get us both killed. Why didn’t you just say you were sick?’” I imitate his worn-leather voice.
We laugh and make small talk for an hour until I feel human enough to drag myself into work.
Nick is a major-league jackass who left me pregnant and alone, but like Abby said...it wasn’t all bad.
He saved my sister’s butt and mine. Millie can even sound out whole words while reading now, thanks to Tiffany. I glance in the passenger seat at the large manila envelope.
I still can’t believe I’m doing this.
Pulling into a gated parking lot, I kill the engine and pop a prenatal lollipop in my mouth. Thank God for this weird anti-nausea vitamin candy.
I’m so nervous I’d have to worry about vomiting on a normal day. I walk into a dark Gothic skyscraper I would have cowered away from once. But after working at Brandt Ideas and staying in Nick’s penthouse...this is just a normal high-end office.
That’s what I tell myself.
I take the elevator up, find the suite, and ring the bell for the receptionist.
A woman in jeans and white heels walks up to the desk. “Can I help you?”
Clutching the envelope with one hand, I pull the lollipop out with the other. “I have an appointment with Mr. Osprey.”
“About?” She cocks her head.
Does it matter? Why does he make appointments if he’s still going to give people the third degree?
“The tantalizing truth about Nicholas Brandt,” I say, deadpan.
She picks up a clipboard and glances at it. “Reese Halle?”
I nod.
“You lasted longer than they usually do,” she says blankly.
“Huh?”
“Most of Nick’s exes come through here once it’s over.” She laughs. “I’ve never met anyone as talented at pissing women off. If it’s taken you this long, then you’ve lasted longer than most.”
I have no idea how to respond to that.