Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 145729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Made of cypress, it was a house that wouldn’t rot, despite the dampness. There were no hallways. The rooms ran one into the other in a long sprawling wide straight line on both stories. She was going to have to modernize everything, but she was determined to keep the original architecture as intact as possible. The first thing she’d done was rewire the entire house. That hadn’t been easy, as electricity wasn’t her forte, and it was extremely important to get it right. Her boss had helped by overseeing her work. Her boss and YouTube. The videos had helped teach her things she’d had no idea about.
Sonia snapped her fingers. “I forgot, Gatita. I set the alarm because Jerry wanted me to call him first thing this morning.”
You took your vacation. This time there was a reprimand in Gatita’s voice. You need to rest. What if you’re pregnant?
Sonia paused in the act of dragging on a pair of her favorite jeans. “Don’t even think that. Don’t say it. Don’t think it. Talk about irresponsible. Sheesh. I’m the first person to think about that, although with him, I’ll admit, I didn’t. Fortunately, I’m using birth control. I didn’t tell him because he was so smug. Let him worry.”
It could still happen.
“It had better not. How would I take care of us? Can you see me up on a roof eight months pregnant? I have to work, Gatita. That’s how I keep us with a roof over our head and food in our tummy.”
Her head came up, her color flushing a dark red. “I didn’t think about STDs either. Oh my God, Gatita. I have to go to a clinic and get checked. I’m not only going to the ‘walk of shame’ hall of fame, I’ll be in the ‘most irresponsible of all time’ hall of fame as well.”
Gatita subsided, curling up and closing her eyes, not bothering to answer. Sonia rolled her own eyes. The last three days without her mate, Gatita had been moody as all leopards could be. Sonia was a little moody herself.
She finished dressing and hurried down to the kitchen to fix breakfast. She opted for a smoothie and called her boss while she was drinking it out on the wide, inviting verandah. The verandah went on forever, wrapping around both stories, giving her the best views. That had been the first thing she’d fallen in love with about the house.
“Hey, Jerry,” she greeted. “What’s up?”
“Need you to come into town and talk as soon as possible.”
There was something in his voice that tipped her off that this was a big deal. “Now? Today? You mean during my vacation?”
“You can have two more vacation days,” he wheedled, confirming to her that whatever was up was very important to him.
She glanced at the clock. “Be there in twenty.”
“Thanks, Sonia.”
She loved Jerry Corporon. She’d do practically anything for him, but she didn’t need him – or anyone else – to know that. Jerry was sweet, but he took advantage if he could. She wasn’t one to say no too often, and he knew that. She wanted the world to think Jerry was just her boss, and she clocked in and clocked out without caring too much about him or the job, but in truth she adored him and loved her job.
He’d seen desperation, and he’d held out his hand to her. She’d seen a man needing help, and that had made it easy to accept his offer of a job. Over time, she’d grown to really love who Jerry was. Funny, intelligent, talented and a bit broken. He owned a successful contracting business, and then his car was hit by a drunk driver, killing his wife and children, leaving him in a wheelchair.
Sonia’s pickup truck had been one of Jerry’s older vehicles. It ran so well it practically purred, but Jerry had claimed it was on its last leg and sold it to her for a steal. She’d needed a work truck as well as something to haul supplies back to her house. Jerry had laughed each time he’d come out to oversee her putting in the wiring, telling her the house was going to fall down on her head, but he’d kept coming, and sometimes he’d tell her there was leftover drywall and to take it. That was her boss.
She parked just outside the double gates leading to the lumberyard and walked the rest of the way, counting it as her morning exercise. Jerry owned the local lumberyard and his office was at the southernmost end, tucked back where he hoped no one could find him. He parked his wheelchair behind his long, narrow desk and conducted business, on the phone more than he was off. He was a big man with a receding hairline, wide shoulders and biceps that bulged from lifting his large body in and out of the chair. He held up one finger when she walked in, indicated a chair and kept talking.