Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 133321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 667(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 667(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
“I’m sure she was quite worried. That woman has done your mom proud looking after you.”
“She has,” I say solemnly, thinking of how damn much I missed my parents and Mia that day.
“I’m sure you watched football,” she says. “In your dad’s honor.”
“Yes. He’d have it no other way.” Emotion is about to choke me out right now and I shift the topic to what’s important right here and now: her. “What about you? Were you with your father?”
“No. He had some special work project. He’s been weird this past year.”
Before then, I think, but I leave that alone right now. “What did you do if you weren’t with him?”
“I went to a movie alone.”
That news punches me so damn hard that my chin drops to my chest. “Damn it.”
She catches my hand. “I’m with you this year and every year from now on. That’s what matters.”
“I almost called you on Thanksgiving and Christmas.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, baby, but I knew I’d upset you. I didn’t want to do that to you.” I set my glass down. “What do you want to do for Thanksgiving this year?”
Her eyes light. “Put our tree up. And see two movies.”
I laugh, and we spend the rest of our lunch talking about the holidays, but the situation with her father is bothering me. He just called me to check on her and yet he left Mia alone for the holiday. I know that hurt her and that’s not like him, not the man I’ve come to know. He’s had gambling issues in the past. I get the feeling they aren’t as past as I’d hoped. And that’s a dangerous path that can get you killed. That’s not how I’m letting Mia lose her father. I’ve invested in his business but he might need to go to rehab, too, and the holidays are a volatile time that allow addictions to take hold. We need to keep him close.
Once we’re done eating, and we settle back in the car, Mia is all smiles. “Where now?”
I wink. “Wait and see.”
She smiles and settles her hands on her purse in her lap. “Very unfair.”
“You can punish me later.”
“I will,” she promises, and her fingers absently stroke the Chanel logo on the front of her purse.
I have a flashback to the weekend I gave that to her. It was, in fact, our first Christmas.
Our tree is decorated to perfection with red and silver bulbs, twinkling white lights plentiful. It’s beautiful, but it pales to Mia’s beauty and joy this morning. Her hair is wild. Her robe is pink and fluffy. I set the giant white box with the red ribbon on her lap and watch her open it, watch the shock and joy in her eyes. And then the expected panic.
“No, Grayson,” she’d said. “No. I know how much this costs.”
“I know you know. Because you love Chanel.”
“I don’t know how you know that. I would never tell you that because that would be like me saying, hey billionaire boyfriend, buy me a ridiculously expensive purse. I wouldn’t do that.”
“Leslie told me.”
“Oh my God, I’m going to kill her.” She presses her hands to her face. “We were shopping and I told her that one day I’d make enough of my own money to treat myself. It was me talking about my goals. Not about you buying this for me.”
“Do you mind that I bought it for you? I know goals matter, but I wanted to do this for you.”
“It’s so expensive,” she says, her voice quavering with emotion.
I set the box aside and pull her to me. “Baby, I love you. And I have more money than God. I want to spend it on you. And you’re going to have to get used to spending it yourself. You live with me. This is our life.”
“I love you, not your money.”
“I know that, or we wouldn’t be who and what we are together.”
“I don’t know how to get comfortable with the money. I feel weird about it.”
I stroke a lock of hair behind her ear. “Start by enjoying my Christmas gift to you. One of them. There’s more.”
“I did spend some of your money.”
I arch a brow in surprise. “Did you?”
“On you. That damn credit card you gave me was burning a hole in my pocket when I found this item and I couldn’t get it on my own. So, I gifted you with your own money.”
“Our money, baby. Our money.”
“Whatever the case, I want you to open it.” She stands and rushes to the tree, returning to hand me a package.
I’m ridiculously nervous and anxious to see what this woman wanted enough to use that card when she stubbornly won’t use it. I open it to find a pocket watch inside. “Read the engraving on the back.” When I turn it over, I read: A great man is always willing to be little.