Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“Wait. Maybe we should tighten it a bit there?” Dottie adjusts her glasses and shifts her focus to the collar.
My phone chirps with a text from Joe. “Am I allowed to move?” I’ve been standing in the middle of the living room for almost an hour.
“Of course.” She waves me off.
I dive for my phone.
Joe: He’s down as a plus-one. Someone named Mindy.
My insides clench. “Who the fuck is Mindy?” I furiously type.
Scarlet frowns. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“The plus-one Garrett’s bringing is some woman named Mindy.” I watch the three bouncing dots on my screen.
Joe: No idea. Ask Sara.
I toss my phone onto the coffee table and wander back to my spot, my mood sinking. “Whatever. Like I said, this isn’t serious.” Except my chest feels tight, and it’s not because of this stupid dress.
Dottie refocuses her attention on my collar. “Garrett … that’s this developer fellow, right?”
I huff. “Yeah.”
“I’m sure there’s a good explanation,” Scarlet offers. “I mean … he spent the entire weekend here with you. And he texts you every day.”
“But we’ve kept it light. Surface stuff. Flirting and banter. He could have something going with someone else.” He’s away enough. “And I was living with Bill while he was fucking someone else.” Will I ever be able to trust another man after that experience?
Her forehead wrinkles. “Maybe it’s time to have a frank conversation.”
“You know, I’ve never been good at playin’ hard to get.” Dottie inserts another pin. “But there is something called ‘impossible to get.’ You sure you haven’t been playin’ that?”
“We had a fifty-hour sex-a-thon here. He got me,” I add with an eyebrow waggle, “in every position imaginable.” Except missionary. It’s like he intentionally avoided it.
Dottie’s face ignites with joy. “Do tell.” She loves a good sex story.
“But you haven’t had a conversation about feelings,” Scarlet pushes, steering the conversation away from the sordid details.
“Because I don’t have feelings for him.” If I don’t allow myself that, then he can’t hurt me.
Scarlet shakes her head, seeing through my mulishness.
I’m not fooling myself either though. The truth is, it’s too late.
I have plenty of feelings for Garrett John Harrington III
Chapter Thirty
Dieter’s Meat Shop and Delicatessen is the busiest I’ve ever seen it, the line of customers waiting to take advantage of the clearance sale on its last day at this location extending almost to the door. Yesterday when I stopped in for lunch, Todd was frantic, stressed. Today he’s all smiles. I think he’s looking forward to the coming change.
By the time I reach the counter, I’m stealing frequent glances at the clock. It’s a two-and- a-half-hour drive to Manhattan, plus there’s Saturday traffic and parking to contend with, plus I need to find out who Mindy is and then either murder Garrett and dispose of his body or divest him of his clothes and play with my favorite parts.
I’m running out of time.
“Hey, Justine, you look fancy.”
“I clean up once in a while.” I spent the morning perfecting my hair and makeup. The little black cocktail dress and heels for the night are waiting in the back seat of my car.
“How was last night at Bonny Acres?”
“Interesting. Three different residents asked if I’d be running bingo from now on, right in front of Nancy. She did not appreciate that.” The side of my face still feels the searing heat from where her glare burned holes.
“And Shirley?”
I grimace. “Wasn’t there.” Saul and Gertie sat at her table. When I asked Harper if anyone’d checked on her, she confirmed with a pitying smile that Shirley announced she had no interest in seeing anyone who might be visiting. I know she didn’t mean Garrett.
There’s not much I can do except give her space and time, and hope she comes around.
“I’m heading to New York for the most uncomfortable bachelorette party ever.”
“That’s right. A whole night being civil to Isabelle.” That name curdles on his tongue, and it makes me smile. He’s never met her and likely never will, but the solidarity is appreciated.
“I’d say that I’d fill you in on the gossip next week, but …” You won’t be here. After almost a hundred years, tomorrow, this place will be empty of life.
“I’m not dying, Justine.” He chuckles. “The new shop is only a seven-minute drive away.”
But it’s not right next door. It’s not the same. I don’t need to point that out, though. “I just wanted to stop by for your last day, but I have to hit the road—”
“Wait!” He collects a bowl and starts ladling soup. “Here’s lunch for the drive. On the house.”
“Have you tried eating soup while driving?” I inhaled Scarlet’s half-eaten tray of sushi before I left, so there’s no need to attempt it.
“Fine. Dinner. Or a late-night snack.” He tucks it into a paper bag and passes it over the counter. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but Ned’s lucky to have you watching out for him.”