Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
I grin, tampering down the want. For now. “Grocery delivery.” I readjust my groin, in physical pain, and take her hand. “Come on.”
She groans her annoyance but lets me pull her back to the kitchen. I leave her at the island poking in and out of drawers, familiarizing herself with the space, as I answer the door. Three crates are on the veranda, another being carried from the van by a bearded, old Spanish man. “Gracias,” I say, picking up the first and hauling it inside, slipping it onto the counter. “Three more,” I say, heading back out.
After getting them all inside, I tip the man, and shut out the world, returning to the kitchen. She’s started to unpack, inspecting all of the groceries, so I unload the crates onto the counter and then stack them by the door. “You okay while I sort the cases?” I ask, picking them up.
“Wonderful,” she breathes, inspecting a pack of lamb.
I smile and leave my wife feeling wonderful, heading to the bedroom. I lay Ava’s case on the bed for her and open it, ready for her to unpack, and put mine in the corner for now. I need to call John.
I step outside and wander down to the beach again, looking back to the villa when he answers. “How’s Paradise?”
“You’ll have to come out and see for yourself.”
“I’m kind of busy,” he grunts. It’s not a very subtle hint that he’s alone and dealing with everything, including not being able to find a damn thing.
“Ava sorted some of the filing,” I say.
“She sorted the bank statements and some invoices. The mountain has multiplied since. The accountants are still waiting for various paperwork, I have suppliers chasing payments, and I can’t even access the bank accounts to pay them.”
“Did you see Sarah?”
“I saw Sarah.”
“And?”
“Drunk.”
My hand rubs at my forehead, my exhale long and loud. It’s not the worst-case scenario, but it’s a step toward it. “And now?”
“Now I’m waiting for you to do the right thing and tell me she can come back, not only for her well-being, but for yours and mine too. Jesse, we’re in a fucking mess here, boy.”
“Jesus, John,” I whisper, the pull inside real and fucking horrid. Another death on my hands. I can’t. Ava must understand that. I haven’t got time to even consider trying to come to grips with The Manor’s filing system. I breathe in and brace myself to say the forbidden words. “Get her back,” I say, closing my eyes. Sweating. “I’ll talk to Ava.” Not looking forward to that.
“She’ll understand, I’m sure.”
“Yeah,” I say, not convinced. But perhaps when I’ve reminded her that I can’t run The Manor and be there for her twenty-four seven, she may see Sarah’s return as a blessing. I pray. “Make sure Sarah understands the conditions.”
“Understood.” Naturally, he doesn’t need to ask what those conditions are.
“And if Ava says she’s out, she’s out.”
“Understood. Heard from Steve?”
“No.” I’ll give him some grace since I’m out of town with Ava. Safe. “He can have the weekend.” And I’m sure he’ll call if he digs something up.
“I’ve got to go. The installation team from the new security firm need me. Try to relax, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I breathe, staring down at my feet. “Call me if you need me.” I turn my face up to the sun as I hang up and close my eyes, trying to push everything into a box while we’re here. Enjoy this time.
My mobile rings as I’m walking back into the villa, and my heart misses a few beats. Shit. One last attempt from Amalie to convince me to go to her wedding? “I’m sorry, darling,” I whisper, sending her call to voicemail. I’m pretty sure my family would be so thankful for Ava being in my life. I’m certain they’d love her and be over the moon that we’re expecting. But I think of my parents, and I’m jarred. Angry. They’re a trigger, something that always sent me to the bottle. They made me marry Lauren. And to try to make amends with them would be to risk what I have with Ava now. They’re the key to the last skeletons in my cupboard. And I’m not ready to open that door.
32
I’ve watched her all day fall in and out of daydreams and thoughts. I’ve asked her questions, sometimes three times before I’ve gotten an answer. She loves it here, who wouldn’t? But bringing her here has spiked many more curiosities in her. Her mind’s spinning at a hundred miles an hour, I can see it. I’ve taken endless pictures of her, smiled as I’ve looked back through the album on my phone to the very beginning. The first picture of her walking away from my manor. Did I imagine back then that I would be here now? Not in a month of Sundays.