Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 131209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 437(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 437(@300wpm)
“He has been so far.”
“Interesting.” She nodded with a pale and callus stare.
I lowered my eyebrows, confused. “What?”
She snidely smiled. “I find it fascinating that you have judged and ridiculed your father, and your mother for as long as I have known you. Now, here you are in the exact same predicament.”
“It’s nothing like—”
“It’s not? Well, I beg to fucking differ. Please… stop me if I’m wrong. You have a relationship with him, right? I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve told him you love him.”
“I haven’t,” I blurted.
She grinned and shook her head in disgust. “Notice you didn’t say… you’re not.”
I jerked back; it was a slap to the face. Not from her retort, but from what I shared without even realizing it.
“My, my, my, Brooke baby. I guess you turned out to be just like your father. Is that what you wanted, hmmm? Did you want to string Devon along, like he does your mother? Your poor, pitiful mother that waits for him every night, and when he comes though the doors, he smells of another woman? Or do you think he washes himself first? How calculated do you think he is? Is it for your mother’s feelings? Or is it for his fucking conscience?” she paused to let her words sink in. “Trust me, I’ve seen the sad eyes she’s had when she’s watched him play. But she accepts it, because what choice does he give her?”
I felt my eyes pool with tears.
“You want that for Devon? Him waiting for you, while you fuck other clients? Huh? You want him to feel like your mother? The woman you so desperately feel sorry for.” She leaned in an inch away from my face. “Because from where I’m standing, it’s like looking at your father,” she whispered. “The man you want to hate; the man that uses everything to his advantage. The selfish, inconsiderate prick that steps on anyone to get what he wants. The man you fucking hate, but have to love. That man.” She softly pecked my lips, pulling away, but still lingering her lips over mine. “That man is you.”
I immediately pulled my head back, her words were spitting fire at me and I was getting burned with each and every truth.
“It’s not nice when the truth is staring you in the fucking face,” she reiterated, reading my mind. “Is it? That’s the beauty about facts, darling? They always have a way of coming out. They don’t stay hidden.”
“I don’t…” I cleared my throat, my voice breaking. “I don’t want that for him.”
“I don’t blame you. I’m not an evil woman, Brooke baby; you may hate me right now. The last thing I want to do is cause you pain… I love you,” she simply stated. “Sometimes in life… you need to have a voice of reason. I don’t mind being that for you. Do you understand me?”
I nodded.
“My advice. Cut him loose. You can’t have it all, and I know you’re a VIP. It’s in your blood. You won’t be happy. It may work now… but it won’t the longer you’re with him. I guarantee you that. You’re not made like that. Learn from your father’s mistakes.”
She reached around and grabbed a tissue from her desk, and handed it to me. I hadn’t realized I was crying.
“Tears don’t make you weak, Brooke. Consequences do. Be a good VIP and do what’s right, before the same stare that you have seen in your mother’s eyes, becomes the same stare you see in Devon’s.”
I wiped away my tears. “Yeah…” was all I could say.
When the truth is blatantly staring you in the face, it doesn’t make it any less easy for you to understand.
<>D<>
A few weeks had gone by, and it was now March. I hadn’t been seeing Brooke that often. She said something about the beginning of the year always being hectic and packed. As much as I wanted to question it, I didn’t.
I spent time with her when we could, trying not to blame it entirely on VIP. I used the bar and being swamped as an excuse, as well.
“Hey,” she greeted, answering her phone.
“Hello there, I feel like I haven’t talked to you in a few days.”
“We text every night and morning, Devon,” she stated.
“Yeah… but they’ve been pretty short,” I reasoned, wanting to get a better answer out of her.
“We’ve been busy. Life gets in the way sometimes.”
“I miss you,” I blurted, needing her to hear it. There was a long pause on the other end. I looked at my phone to see if the call was dropped. “Brooke? You still there?”
“Mmm hmm…” she grumbled.
“What are you doing today?” I asked, changing the subject, trying not to contemplate what was happening.
“Umm… not much.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up in an hour.”
“Devon, I—”
“I’ll pick you up in an hour,” I interrupted in a demanding tone.