Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
It’s not hard to peg that Cage is probably from the South. Not only does he have a slight accent but his use of the contraction “y’all” is a dead giveaway.
His blunt inquiry surprises me as southerners are stereotyped as being more well-mannered, and not obnoxiously nosy. I had no clue that Ladd told anyone about our history. I’m at a loss as to how to respond, because the reasons are very complex and still an embarrassment to me.
So I offer a vague response. “We were just at different points in our lives. Wanted different things.”
Cage’s tone is bland but clearly protective of Ladd. “And that wasn’t something you could’ve figured out before accepting his proposal?” he asks pointedly.
I try to tamp down the anger and hurt his veiled accusation causes. I don’t know this man, but he’s clearly loyal to Ladd. He’s put the failure of us to commit squarely on my plate, and while it’s mostly true, I could tell him the ways in which Ladd made it difficult for me to compromise.
I don’t, though, because it’s not worth it. I doubt I’ll be in this guy’s presence much longer.
The door behind me opens, and a rush of cold air hits my back, despite the North Face jacket I have on. I turn and see Ladd’s ex-wife, Britney, walking in.
She huffs out a long breath and stamps her feet on the foyer rug, shutting the door with a laugh. “Man, it’s getting cold out there.”
She doesn’t seem to have changed a bit since I saw her ten years ago. Her face is as beautiful and youthful as it was when I first saw her being helped out of Ladd’s car in their driveway. She’s even sporting a very pregnant belly again. A child—something I didn’t want once upon a time and wasn’t able to give Ladd all those years ago. I was so focused on my career, the concept of children seemed alien to my entire being.
Britney’s mouth breaks into a wide smile showcasing perfect teeth as her eyes alight on me. “You must be Greer.”
Taking off her glove, she offers a beautifully manicured hand, and I shake it. “I’m Britney. I will apparently be your stylist today.”
She laughs again, a gentle tinkling of amusement at herself, and I can tell just within these few seconds of meeting her that she’s a genuinely nice person.
It makes it easy to smile back. “It’s good to meet you, Britney. And thank you for agreeing to cut my hair. I was just going to have Ladd do it, but he assured me it would be the biggest mistake of my life.”
She laughs again and then gives her attention briefly to Cage. She leans forward and gives him a tiny, playful punch in the stomach. “How are you and Jaime doing? All secrets out on the table?”
Cage snorts as he pushes off the doorjamb. Clearly there’s an inside joke I don’t get. “Let’s just say Jaime knows things about me that even I don’t know.”
Britney winks at the man. “You make sure to treat her right. She’s a gem.”
“Don’t I know it.” Cage takes another bite of his apple and moves past us out the door.
When it closes, Britney turns to me brightly. “I’m not a professional hairdresser or anything. I just happen to have a bit of artistic talent. What would you like me to do for you?”
I hover my hand just above my shoulder. “Straight across, right about here.”
Britney beams. “I can totally do that without messing it up.”
Within a few minutes, Britney has me in a kitchen chair. She knew right where the linen closet was and has draped a towel over my shoulders. I ask about her pregnancy, and she chatters about it, occasionally rubbing her back while she gets out a pair of scissors from the utility drawer, as well as a broom and dustpan.
When she’s behind me with shears in hand, she asks, “Are you sure you want me to take off this much? Your hair is gorgeous.”
“I’m sure. I normally wear it shorter.”
“So be it.” Britney runs a brush through my hair, then picks up the first lock, and I hear a snip.
She drops it to the floor and takes another small lock.
Snip.
She repeats it several more times in silence, and I’m almost lulled into a spot where I can think about our upcoming mission when Britney says, “So… you’re the one who got away.”
I jerk so forcefully that my head pulls away from Britney just as I hear another snip, and I know I screwed up that particular clipping.
I lean forward in the chair and turn around to look at her over my shoulder. “Excuse me?”
Britney smiles, warmly and without rancor. “You’re the one who got away from Ladd.”
She says it so matter-of-factly and with such confidence, I’m thinking she’s not guessing.