Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Emma considered it with a critical eye. “Maybe we just keep Anna on it.”
“Got it.” Landon started taking the beads off, shooting me a look that meant he was annoyed at having to undo all his work, even if he wasn’t going to say anything.
I knew a soft, dopey smile was on my face because my heart felt warm and gooey in my chest. Never in a million years could I have pictured this. The man who swore so adamantly he wouldn’t be a good father was so kind, so patient, so present with Emma that he gave even Robert a run for his money. It was what I’d always wanted for her – what Robert had been for me. I’d thought it a nearly impossible criteria, but Landon met it.
“Go on, take a picture. You know you want to.”
I looked over and realized with a start that Garrett had taken the seat next to me. “I want to,” I admitted, “but he hates having his picture taken.”
“Don’t take my picture,” Landon said pleasantly.
“Ooh, take my picture!”
Emma loved having her picture taken. I made her take a step away from Landon, then snapped a few of her modeling different necklaces. She then climbed up between me and Garrett and demanded to see them.
“Take a picture with me, Daddy,” she said, her bottom lip sticking out just a bit and her dark eyelashes fluttering.
It was all I could do not to laugh.
Landon hesitated.
“Your dad actually can’t take pictures. He breaks the camera,” Garrett tried to explain helpfully.
“Just one!” Emma slid off the seat and went to stand beside him. He was still leaning over the low table that their kit was spread out on. She put an arm around his shoulders and grinned at me. “Take our picture, Mama.”
I hesitated, but then Landon straightened up and bared his teeth at me in a semblance of a smile. I took the picture quickly, before he could change his mind.”
“Again!” Emma demanded. She always liked multiple shots so she could pick her favorite to print out and put in a photo album.
Garrett saved Landon by reaching over to take my phone. He inspected it and said, “Sorry, kid. Looks like your dad broke the camera again.”
Disappointed, Emma went back to criticizing Landon’s beadwork. Garrett handed my phone back to me. “Hope you don’t mind. I know how weird he is about pictures.”
“So weird,” I agreed.
“I can hear you,” Landon said.
“Weird!” Emma sang out.
While they played, I got to know Garrett. It was surprisingly nice. I hadn’t gotten to know someone new in a long time. Our community in Hawaii had been small, exclusive. Not many people came in and out of it. Then I’d come back to California and immediately went into hiding in Landon’s penthouse. It was refreshing to talk to someone new. My first impressions of Garrett proved to be right. He was quick to laugh, and there was a fun energy about him that offset Landon’s heavier presence. He was close to Landon’s age, but he wore the years more lightly. He was just as sharply intelligent, though, even if he couched it in jokes.
“Do you mind me asking what your parents plan to do?” he asked. “And please, if you do mind, tell me to fuh off.”
I laughed, considering his question. No one had outright asked me about my parents’ plans, not even Landon or Casey. If it had been someone else, I might have minded. I got the feeling that Garrett might have advice to offer, though.
“I think they’re going to lay low,” I said, careful not to tell him too much. “Let the appeal process play out. Keep out of the eye of the storm and hope it blows over.”
“Not the worst strategy,” Garrett said neutrally.
“But not the best either?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s hard to say. They don’t have any great plays left. Laying low might be the only thing they can do.”
“If you were their crisis manager, what would you suggest?”
Garrett flashed me a crooked smile. “You probably don’t want to know.”
I hesitated, wondering if this was his way of telling me he didn’t give out crisis management advice for free. But he was still looking at me inquiringly, like he was waiting to see if I’d give permission or not.
“Just tell her,” Landon said finally. “So she can tell you to fuh off.”
“Okay,” Garrett said, straightening and rubbing his hands together eagerly. “I’m not saying this is what they should do, but if they were my client, and they wanted to save the Lavigne brand, this is what I’d tell them to do.”
Garrett then outlined how Robert was a lost cause in the eyes of the public. He wasn’t good looking or likable or charming enough to pull out of this.
“Robert is wonderful,” I said, wounded by his assessment.