Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 69371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
It's almost like it's not happening. Like my body has left, and I'm looking down at the train wreck that is to come. He stops moving and lets his hand fall from my waist. He puts his hand in his pocket, and the music stops. Or maybe it doesn't stop. Perhaps it's because I've suddenly lost my hearing. I can see everyone look at each other, unsure what is going on. My heartbeat pounds in my ears, and all I can hear are the beats and not the whispers. He kisses me right before he gets down on one knee in front of me. "Being with you has made me see that I don't want to be with anyone else." He looks up at me and opens the small black ring box in his hand.
The gasps I hear are nothing compared to what I'm thinking right now. This can't be happening. This can’t be happening. "Clarabella Baker, will you make me the luckiest man alive and be my wife?" My eyes go from him to the ring to my sisters, who just stand there in as much shock as I am. My mother is the only one who looks like she knew this was coming. Travis stares at me with his mouth open, and Harlow now grabs his drink from him and holds it up for me. "I love you."
I try to swallow, but it seems like my tongue is so thick that I can't. My mouth is drier than a desert on a summer day. My eyes are seeing little white spots, and I'm not going to lie, I'm expecting to pass out at any moment. But nothing happens, nothing happens except Edward just continues to look at me expectantly, his sweet face waiting for me to answer. "What do you say?"
There in the middle of what was supposed to be my thirtieth birthday party, I say the only word that will not make me look like a complete bitch. I also know at this moment that I might be making the biggest mistake of my life. "Yes." The minute I say the word, my head yells what the hell did you just do?
Chapter 2
Luke
Four Months Later
I pull up behind the restaurant and put the truck in park. "Why did I think it was a good idea to drive straight from New York home without stopping?" I ask myself, opening the driver's door and stepping out. My whole body is stiff from the fourteen-hour drive that took me seventeen hours because of the traffic getting out of the city and then an accident on the highway that delayed me for another hour. I put my hands on my back, stretching out when the back door to the restaurant opens.
"Well, well, well.” I hear Mikaela say. I turn to see her wearing her chef outfit and carrying a black garbage bag in one hand. "Look what the cat dragged in." She laughs, walking over to the dumpster and tossing the bag in. She rubs her hands together as she comes back. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"
"I've been gone for six months, and you FaceTimed me twice a day to tell me how much you hated me," I remind her with a smile as she stands in front of me. The two of us met in culinary school, and when I decided to open my restaurant, there was no one I wanted to work with more than her.
"Oh, not past tense, present. I do hate you," she says, and I can't help but laugh, putting my arm around her shoulders as we walk toward the back door of the restaurant.
"What is that smell?" She looks at me, scrunching up her nose.
"I was in the car for seventeen hours,” I say. "I left New York at four thinking that I would avoid traffic. News flash, there is always traffic in fucking New York." I put my hands on my hips.
"Well, go shower before you come in my kitchen. Then you can help me with the dinner rush." She walks ahead of me. "Plus, I have a meeting with a bride and groom tonight for a taste test."
I look up at the blue sky and sigh. "I should have gone home first instead of coming here," I say, and it's her turn to laugh at me.
"I have your location on my phone." She walks back into the restaurant and the door slams shut behind her. I walk up the steps to follow her and open the back door. The smell of garlic hits me right away, making my mouth water.
Mikaela is behind the counter frying up something. "I'll get you something to eat," she says over her shoulder, and I walk past the counter toward the brown swinging door with the little glass circle in it. Pushing through the door, I see a couple of people are setting up for the night service. The bar in the middle of the restaurant is why I bought this place to begin with. It just was everything. It wasn't like this when I bought it. Fuck, it was a nightmare, and even the real estate agent asked me if I was sure. He didn't see what I envisioned in my head. He didn't see its potential. A perfect square so you can see every single part of the restaurant. The countertops are pure oak that I sanded down and varnished to a shine. The glasses hanging from the top wire racks give it a modern look with an old-school vibe. Barstools go all the way around and are always the first seats to be taken.