Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
As always happened at the mention of her mother, a lump rose in her throat, forcing Fallon to swallow over it. Gloria Sterling had been killed at home when Fallon was ten years old.
Pushing that thought away, she replied to Brooke’s comment. “I’m glad I inherited something meaningful from her.” Something more than a trust fund or jewelry, though Fallon was grateful for all of it.
Brooke put a hand over Fallon’s. “I’m sorry. I know that’s a pain that will never heal.”
“Like your dad is for you.” When they were younger, Fallon and Brooke had bonded over their similar losses.
Brooke nodded. “At least you know my mom’s keeping a close eye on your father after his heart attack.”
With a nod, Fallon said, “I’m so glad they’re dating or whatever they call it. Your mom is the best person I know, and I appreciate that she watches out for Dad, correcting his bad eating and work habits. If only he’d listen more.”
She and the rest of her siblings were worried their father wasn’t paying enough attention to the cardiologist’s orders to work less, take it easy, and change his dietary choices. Seeing him weak and in the hospital still haunted Fallon. She was a daddy’s girl and didn’t mind admitting it. To her, Alex Sterling was larger than life. He was also the only parent she had left and she couldn’t lose him. Having Lizzie around to look after him eased all their minds.
“Besides, they both deserve to be happy,” Brooke said.
“Agreed.” They clinked glasses and sipped their hot drinks.
Brooke tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Are you going to see the new band at The Back Door this weekend?” she asked of the bar Fallon’s brother, Remy, co-owned with his friend, Zach Dare.
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Remy and Zach had recently begun bringing in entertainment. It was loud inside the bar but the patrons loved it. “How about you?”
Brooke nodded. “Aiden said he’d try not to work too late and meet me there.” One of Fallon’s brothers was a foreign correspondent and traveled the world but when their father had his heart attack, he’d done his best to help Jared pick up the slack.
The entry chimes rang and before Fallon turned to see who it was, a young, female voice called out. “Mom!” She yelled the word in an excited, raised tone.
Fallon set her drink down and pivoted toward the door to find two young girls staring, disappointment etched in their identical expressions.
“Oh, no! You’re not our mom,” one said, her bottom lip quivering. Her brown hair was braided on either side of her head and hung past her shoulders.
The other had her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Besides the different hairstyles, they looked exactly alike.
“Are you two lost?” Fallon asked, rising to her feet.
Beside her, Brooke did the same.
“From behind you look just like our mom,” the girl with the braids said, eyeing her with curiosity.
Fallon’s hand immediately went to her hair and she laughed. “Nope, I’m not anyone’s mother.”
The other twin nudged her sister with her elbow. “I told you it couldn’t be her. Mom’s in Egypt,” she said in a sulky voice.
Fallon exchanged worried glances with Brooke. “Girls, are you lost?” she asked again, stepping toward them.
They looked at each other, neither answering.
“Maybe we should call the police? Someone’s got to be worried about you,” Brooke said.
Nodding, Fallon pulled her phone from a deep pocket in her flowing skirt.
“No! We don’t trust the po-po!” the one with braids said, folding her arms across her chest.
It was all Fallon could do not to burst out laughing. “That sounds like a line in a Madea movie. Come on, girls. I’m serious. If your mom is in Egypt, where’s your dad?”
Wide-eyed, they stared at each other, obviously catching on that they were going to be in trouble. But neither replied.
“How old are you?” Fallon tried, wanting to guide them into revealing information.
“Nine,” they said at the same time.
Still young enough to need a babysitter in New York City.
“Do either of you know your dad’s phone number?” She stared them down until the one with the ponytail caved.
“Fine. It’s—”
“Hang on,” Fallon said, opening her phone and then the keypad. “Go ahead.”
She voiced the phone number as Fallon typed it in and hit send, but the call rang once and went to voicemail.
Suddenly, the door swung open and a frazzled, gorgeous man stepped inside. His dark hair was tousled, as if he’d been running his fingers through the strands, sensual lips were pulled into a firm line, but there was no denying he was one good-looking specimen.
“Dakota, Dylan, I’ve been searching all over for you!” their father said in a stern voice but there was no mistaking the relief beneath. “You both have some explaining to do!”
“Uh-oh, we’re in tro-u-ble!” the twins said in a singsong voice.