Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 53233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 266(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 266(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
“You’re the opposite of grounded,” I say. “Why don’t we take a trip? Just you and me?”
“When? Now?”
I’m not normally this impulsive, but I’d do just about anything to make my daughter feel better right now.
“Sure. Why not?”
“Well school, for one. And your job.”
“Let’s blow those off for a week and go to Paris. I haven’t been to my apartment there in more than a year. We can leave our phones at home and just be. Dinner on the Seine, the Louvre and Musee D’Orsay, pastries from that bakery you love…what do you say?”
“It sounds fun. But no phones? Are you sure? What about work?”
“I’ve got people working for me who can handle it. Let’s ditch social media and email and just have some fun.”
Giselle smiles. “Okay. Should I pack?”
“Yes. You pack, and I’ll order pizza and I’ll have Hassan set up our flight and move work stuff around.” I look at my watch. “We should be able to leave in an hour or so.”
“Really?”
“There are a few perks to having your own plane.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
I leave Giselle’s bedroom feeling like I got this one right. My daughter needs my attention, and nothing else matters as much as that. And the long flight to Paris will give us plenty of time to talk about how teenage boys don’t deserve my little girl’s undivided trust.
The phone thing…that won’t be easy. It just kind of slipped out of my mouth before I had time to think about it. But the truth is, I’d be checking work emails if I had it, and I want Giselle to know I’d rather be with her and not have any other distractions.
I’ll have a lot to catch up on when I get back, but if it puts a smile on her face, it’s worth it.
Chapter Eight
Daphne
“Why are you an asshole?” Nina glares at me over the rim of her glasses.
“Really?” I scowl. “Turning a man down for a date makes me an asshole?”
“No, turning that man down for a date makes you an asshole.” She gestures at the half dozen sunflowers in bloom in a vase on my desk.
“He’s not my type, okay?”
Her laugh is not amused. “Girl, you need to take a long hard look at your type, then. Not only did he pull you out of a burning car, he met your insufferable parents and didn’t punch them in the face. Then he comes in here looking sexy as hell to ask you out in person. And that note…”
Nina fake swoons and falls against the back of my office door. I can’t help cracking a smile.
“The note wasn’t bad,” I admit.
It’s hanging on my bulletin board right now, and my eyes roam over to it at least five times a day, if not more.
Dear Daphne,
Isn’t it funny
That because of my money
You refused me a date
But what if I’m great?
Even though you don’t know it
I can be a poet
And if you say yes
You can hear more of my poems...or less
Olivier
He wrote his phone number below his name. The note and flowers were delivered to the shelter last Tuesday at the end of the workday, and since I had a work event that night, I didn’t text him back until mid-morning Wednesday.
Me: Thanks for the flowers, they’re lovely. The poem made me smile.
I expected him to text back, but he never did.
“Don’t you think he would have texted me back if he was still interested?” I ask Nina.
“You should text him again.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“He didn’t send you the flowers and note, with his number, because he planned to ignore you,” Nina says, moving to sit down in the folding chair.
“Well, he is ignoring me,” I say with a shrug. “It’s been a week and I haven’t heard back. Maybe he googled me and found out I got arrested at a protest once.”
Nina quirks a brow. “Did you really? And did I know that?”
“I don’t know. I told Ty before he hired me, though. It was a protest over the murder of a trans person not being properly investigated.”
“Oh God, how terrible.”
“It was.”
“I’m just saying that you should call his office, maybe. What if he dropped his phone in the toilet and had to get a new number?”
I give her a wry look. “Why would he have to get a new number?”
She throws her hands in the air. “This can’t be the end of it. I’m invested in hashtag Olidaph, and a lot of other people are, too.”
Smiling, I say, “I texted him, Nina. I’m not interested in a serious relationship so soon after my broken engagement, but I probably would’ve had dinner with him if he asked again. He’s over it, though. Let’s move on.”
“I just think—”
I’m saved by a knock on the door of my office. Ty opens the door and says, “Daph, your boyfriend’s here.”