Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
But I already appreciate the cozy little space with a door I can lock—especially when Henry is thirty-eight hundred miles away and seven hours ahead, and likes to FaceTime from his hotel room, naked.
Best of all, Zaheera hung a matte Abbi Mitchell, Farm Girl Soap Co. sign on the outside of the door. An office warming gift from Nailed It.
“I’ve been making batches of soap, day in and day out.” We’re limiting it to my most popular scents—lemon, thyme, sage, and lavender—for the first sale, so we have something new to offer for the next round. “How’s Barcelona?”
“The city is great. Henry is … Henry.”
I smile. Belinda once called him a bear when he’s away from me for too long. It shouldn’t make me happy to hear that, but it does. “At least he’s acting more like himself again?”
Miles snorts. “Yeah, that’s one way to look at it. ’Kay. Gotta go.”
I flip through the wedding invitation samples while I wait for Miles to forward the jeweler’s info. Jill sent me a box to choose from. With Raj’s help, I narrowed it down to four favorites, but no matter how long I stare at them, I can’t seem to choose. I sent pictures of them to Henry, but I already know he won’t be much help.
My phone rings, and I double-blink at Violet’s name on the screen. This is unexpected. “Hello?”
“Uh … Hi, Abbi? I hope you don’t mind me calling …” Her voice trails.
“Of course not. What’s up? Is everything okay?” My mind immediately goes to problems. Is there an issue with the house? Did something happen to Howard or Gayle?
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Um … the painters are at the house. They’re covering everything in gray. It’s … blah.”
“Blah gray! I know that one well. I have it in my new commercial kitchen.” It was there when we took possession and it seemed pointless to spend money painting it. “It’s boring, but it’ll help sell the place.”
“Yeah, that’s what Tony said.”
“How is he?” Henry said Alex sent his best Philly agent to them.
“Yeah, he’s okay. Gramps likes him.”
“Well, that’s important.” Silence hangs over the phone for a few long beats. I wonder if she’s heard from Henry, but I don’t ask. There must be a reason for this call.
“So, I have this project for school. We have to design a business with, like, a whole plan.”
“That sounds like a big project.”
“Yeah, it’s thirty percent of my grade and I’m kind of behind on it, because of my mom and all that. Anyway, do you think I could ask you some questions?”
“Me?”
“Yeah. You said you had a company, right? Soap or something?”
“Yeah, I do, but …” I falter. “You know, Henry would be the better person to ask.” If anyone understands the business world, it’s him.
There’s a long pause and then, “You know what, it’s okay. I’ll find someone else—”
“No, no! It’s fine. I can help you with this. Or try, at least.” This is Henry’s daughter. She’s going to be my stepdaughter, a reality I haven’t wrapped my head around yet. The fact that she’s coming to me—that she hasn’t written me off as her father’s much younger fiancée—is something. “How much do you have done already?”
“Um … well, it’s kind of hard to say.”
I see where this is going. “You haven’t started yet, have you?”
“Define start.” I don’t know her well, but I’m sure there is a sheepish smile behind that voice.
“And when’s it due?”
“The first half, on Monday?”
I flop back in my chair. How am I supposed to fit this in? It’s already Thursday and I’ll be in this kitchen all weekend, preparing for next week’s launch. But it doesn’t sound like Violet has time to spare.
“I have tomorrow off school,” Violet says, as if that fixes everything. “I could take the train in and meet you somewhere?”
I don’t have time to meet her in the city, but I want to make this work. An idea strikes me. “Why doesn’t Victor pick you up and bring you to my office? You can spend the day with me and learn about what I’m doing.” We spend a few minutes planning and by the time we end the call, I feel like I might be able to help her.
But I’m still overwhelmed. “Come on, Miles!” I rest my forehead on my desk. I’m desperate to mark something off this stupid checklist.
A knock sounds.
“Come in!” I roll my head toward the door.
It creaks open and Annie pokes her curly blond head in. She winces when she sees me. “Hey, the photographer is here for that PR campaign?”
“What photog—oh my God.” The photo shoot. “I totally forgot. How did I forget I had that?”
“’Cause you have a lot on your plate right now?”
My phone chirps with the jewelry contact info from Miles, as if to punctuate Annie’s point. “Okay, can you tell him I’ll be there in five minutes? Ten at most. I need to make this call first.”