Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
I gasp. "Hey, can’t I just call to say I love you?"
He shakes his head, laughing. "You can, but you didn’t."
I hold up both my hands now. "Okay, fine, I didn’t," I admit. "I’m calling to ask if you would like to be part of my show."
"For you, anything." He agrees before I even tell him what it’s about.
"Well, why don’t I give you my whole pitch, and then you can tell me if you're in or not?" I say, my heart speeding up. I rub my hands on my pants as I look into the phone. "It’s going to be a weekly segment on the bad boys of hockey." The minute I say the words, he groans.
"Why, why, why do I always get lumped into the bad boys of hockey?" he moans and throws his head back, his hands going to his face to rub it.
"It’s because you're sexy," my aunt Allison says. "And you were a bad boy once upon a time." She comes into view, smiling at me and kissing my uncle on the cheek. "Hi, honey."
"Hi, Auntie." Seeing her just makes me even more homesick. "Did you hear about my show?"
"I did," she confirms excitedly. "When do you need him by?"
"Why?" my uncle cuts in now. "I’ve paid my dues." We both laugh now. "I won a Stanley Cup. I’ve created the Max Horton Children’s Foundation." He shakes his head. "Like I’m a good guy."
"No," I say, not smiling now. "You’re the best guy."
He rolls his eyes now. "Okay, that was a lie." He points at me. "And you did it with a straight face."
"I can tell no lies." I hold up my hand in a Scout’s honor gesture. "I would be honored to have you as my guest. And if it makes you feel any better, I’m also going to be hitting up Uncle Viktor."
"Fine," he huffs. "You better have your father on that freaking list."
I smile sadly. "It’s kind of hard to do when he’s not talking to me." My heart hurts in my chest, and the lump rises to my throat. I shrug my shoulders and try not to let the tears come as I blink away the stinging in my eyes. It’s safe to say he did not support my decision to take the job in Dallas. Which has been really hard because, in all my life, he’s always supported me. "It’s fine," I say, shaking my head and wiping away the tears trying to escape from my right eye with my thumb.
"Oh, honey," Allison says softly. "He’s going to talk to you."
"Yeah, well." I’m angry now. "Maybe I don’t want to talk to him," I say, folding my arms over my chest, and it comes to me that I sound like a kid throwing a tantrum.
"He’s just mad that you didn't tell him about the job until you signed the papers." Max tries to plead his case.
"And why do you think I did that?" I retort, angry that it’s getting to me. Angry that it still bothers me.
"I’m sure you have your reasons," Max says softly, and if we were in front of each other, he would no doubt lean over and hug me.
"Ugh," I groan. "I didn’t do that to upset him or whatever is spinning in that big fat head of his." My voice goes loud, and I look up to make sure no one can hear me. Looking out, I see that no one is in the office. Not one person. "I did it because I didn’t want him going all, well, him," I say, using my hands now. "If I would have told him about it, he would have went over my head." I look at the phone. "He would have been all like a caveman or I don’t know, the Godfather. Put a horse in the bed or something like that."
"Oh my God." Max laughs. "You really know your dad."
"I just …" I take a deep breath to calm myself. "I wanted to get this job because I merited this job, not because my last name was Grant and my grandfather owned the media company. Or that my father called a friend."
Max throws his head back and laughs. "One, your father doesn’t have friends."
I roll my eyes. "He knows someone everywhere," I huff. "I just for once wanted to get a job because I deserved it. I didn’t want anyone to think I got it because of who I know or what my last name is."
"Honey," Max says. "You got that job because you do deserve it. Your father, regardless of how he is handling this, loves you with everything he has." I don’t say, yeah right. Instead, I just listen to him. "The only thing he wants is for you to be okay."
"Well, how is he going to know I’m okay when he doesn’t speak to me?" I shake my head. "It’s fine. It’ll be fine. It’s whatever." I shrug.