Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Dean chuckled. “Every day. You never know when someone is looking for you.”
“Did you read todays?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“The one about the grocery store—I think that’s me.”
Rhys heard paper rustling in the background and then there was a long pause. “Wait, so this is you? You are Maisie’s mystery guy? What were you doing at the other end of the island?”
“I gave Phillipa a ride home and decided to stop and pick some things up.”
“Was there a connection?”
Rhys sighed. “I think there could’ve been had Celeste not texted and asked me to go pick up Trey. I bolted from the store. Left my cart there and everything.”
“She’s such a not nice word.”
Rhys laughed. He appreciated that his family never said bad things about Celeste, especially in front of Trey, but when his son wasn’t around, most people let the words fly. Except for Dean. He liked to keep his words in check.
“What should I do?”
“About Celeste?”
“No.” Rhys smiled. “About this Missed Encounter thing. Do I show up at Rose’s?”
Dean cleared his throat. “You gotta shoot your shot, man. What if she’s the one?”
“What if she recognized me and only wants to date me because of who I am?” Rhys counterargued. Despite the fact she’d given him his greatest gift, Celeste had really done a number on him because of the stature his last name would give her.
“Listen, Rhys.” Dean continued. “We can go back and forth on the what ifs. If she knew who you were, why not just show up at the store or call you? I don’t think this one knows anything about you.”
Rhys scoffed. He had a hard time believing people didn’t know who he was or who his family was. The Wainwrights were the family of Brenton Island. Every year, people flocked to their Coddington mansion just to have their pictures taken in front of it. Most of them had no clue the family still owned it, let alone lived in there. As of late, Rhys had a hard time keeping Trey away from the window, lest people think the place was haunted.
“You should do it,” Dean told him. “Live a little.”
“Ha,” Rhys retorted. “The last time I lived a little, I ended up with Trey.”
“Was she cute?”
“Who, Celeste?” Rhys scrunched his face. Why was his cousin asking about Celeste when he knew her?
Dean tsked. “Try and stay on track here,” he said. “The woman at the store. Was she cute?”
“Incredibly so,” he told Dean. “Short, curvy and a smile that easily made me take a second look.”
“Then why are you hesitant?”
Rhys rested his head on his hand and groaned. “It seems so . . .”
“Adventurous? Daring? I don’t know, like you’d be living?”
“Shut up,” Rhys mumbled. He lived, just not the way Dean did. At times, Dean walked around as if he were invincible. He lived life teetering on the edge without a rope. That kind of life went out the door for Rhys when Trey came into the world.
“I gotta run,” Dean said. “Let me know how your Valentine’s date goes at Rose’s.” He hung up, laughing.
It took a moment for Rhys to set his phone down. His conversation with his cousin hadn’t given him the answer he sought. He wasn’t sure anyone could convince him that going to Rose’s on what was supposed to be the most romantic night of the year would turn out in his favor. Or in Maisie’s, for that matter.
Rhys went back to the paper and read her note again. It was almost as if he needed to memorize what she’d said. He tucked the newspaper into his bag and told Fenway they were leaving. With his current mindset he didn’t feel much like working.
After checking in with Phillipa, and making sure she didn’t need a ride, he told the clerks he would be home for the rest of the day if they needed him. Rhys managed to make it to his car without running into anyone he knew, and with Fenway in the backseat, her head hanging out of the open window, he drove home.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Wainwright,” George, their house butler, greeted Rhys when he entered the main part of the house on a quest to find his son. When Rhys had Trey, he stayed home with his grandmother instead of going to daycare. “You’re home earlier than usual.”
“I have a lot on my mind today,” he told George. “Thought I’d come home and dwell on the little things instead of staying in the office.”
“Sometimes home has the answers, and sometimes the view does.” George nodded toward the back of the house, where the sweeping landscape ended at the shoreline. It was far too cold to take their boat out, but the picturesque beauty of the ocean never failed. Rhys followed George into the kitchen, where most of their less important conversations seemed to happen. The recently renovated kitchen was now white marble with ornate cabinetry. Rhys honestly had no idea where anything was in the grand room and was thankful for his own space. In his kitchen, he knew where the can opener was and where he kept his pots and pans.