Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
“You weren’t planning on saying hello?” Jameson asked, his voice low behind my right ear. I held my breath, yanked my elbow away, turned around quickly, and caught sight of the two men before me.
“You look incredible, Lyles,” Officer Hughes said beside him, tossing his cigarette in the grass as his blue eyes roamed my body.
I was so grateful the dress was loose, and there wasn’t much to see. Not that it made me any less uncomfortable. I thanked him under my breath as I tried to stop tensing up, but it was useless. Both of them kept me on edge; they were cousins and always around, which made it worse. Officer Ned Hughes was the chief of police, the hero of Fairview, and a total fucking creep. He was always at Dad’s beck and call, though. He was always mixing drinks for everyone. Always the life of the party. Beside him was David Jameson, formerly Coach Jameson, who was also revered in Fairview. His family was important as hell in society. When he decided to coach hockey at the university, everyone looked at it like he was doing some kind of charity, as if they weren’t paying him a boatload of money. He didn’t need the money, though, so he was seen as “so kind” and “so gracious.” Women fell at his feet. A record number of guys he’d coached had made it to the NHL or CHL. These were achievements that could be linked to Coach Jameson directly. He was my father’s best friend and my godfather. I despised him. I despised every single adult with ties to Fairview at this event, yet here I was, about to let them make me feel small and uncomfortable.
“I hadn’t seen you,” I said, my voice serious and expression blank, as I looked between them.
“I figured as much.” Jameson smiled, his blue eyes roaming my face. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.” I looked around for anyone to come and rescue me from these two.
Thankfully, I spotted Jameson’s long-term girlfriend walking over. Thank you, universe. Sydney was the only one I could stand in this crowd, probably because she was a transplant from Chicago. She always looked flawless and was kind — unlike Hughes, Jameson, my father, and that cunt Marie. I couldn’t fathom why Sydney was in their clique, but I was sure Jameson’s looks, stature, and charm had a lot to do with it. Hughes was actually married, which was even more mind-blowing. But again — looks, stature, and charm were enough for some people.
“Hey, Lyla. You look gorgeous,” Sydney said, smiling as she hugged me.
“So do you,” I said, holding her arm. “Well, I have to get going. It was great seeing you all. I’ll catch you later.”
I turned around, pushed my shoulders back, and kept walking. Inside, I looked around until I found Banks. Of course, table ten was on the other side. I didn’t even want to sit at his table, but I knew it was for the best. Prescott's eyes caught mine as I passed, and I could see a sadness mirrored my own. He managed a small nod and turned away to speak to his teammate. He knew as well as I did that tonight wasn’t a good time for us to interact. He had been friends with Luke and missed him as much as I did. I took in the tent, equipped with chandeliers and white and purple centerpieces on each table. It looked more like a wedding than a sports event. Marie’s doing, for sure. She was probably trying to show Dad what their wedding could look like if he proposed to her. The tables were big enough to seat eight and twelve people and consisted of agents, athletes, and professional coaches from each sport. It was a fancy networking event — a loophole for student-athletes to brush shoulders with agents and coaches they probably shouldn’t be speaking to yet.
I grabbed a number ten since Banks was sitting there. It didn’t matter who else was at the table. I’d be uncomfortable no matter what. Banks was waiting for me, and he smiled and opened his arms for a hug. I returned it before taking my seat. After saying hello to the volleyball player Banks had been speaking with, I looked around more. If this went my way, I’d be a ghost at this table, and then I’d get up and leave without anyone noticing my absence. It happened often enough these days. I spotted Dad and Marie mingling and moved further down in my seat, hoping the tall figures of Banks and the volleyball players would serve as shields. I was staring at my black and gold nails when I heard new voices approach our table. I kept my eyes down. If I didn’t look, I wasn’t there. That was my motto. Someone sat beside me, and I stilled, straightening in my seat and pushing my shoulders back. I knew that scent. Jesus Christ on a cracker, this could not be happening right now. I kept looking at my nails.