Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 36506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
“Vaguely. He said you two cleared the air. Apologized.”
“Did he tell you I was unfaithful to him?”
My gut twists with anger. “What? Are you serious?”
“It was wrong, and I shouldn’t have done him that way, but we both know there wasn’t love between us. It was a relationship of convenience.”
“Mom…” I shake my head, disgust roiling in my stomach. “I knew something was up with you.”
“I should have told you,” she chokes out, fighting tears. “I wanted to, but I felt trapped. Reid is a good man who took care of us. My needs weren’t important as long as you were okay.”
“You shut me out, Mom. It’s not a shocker me and Reid became close. He was there when you weren’t.”
She swipes at a tear. “I know. That’s on me. I’m ashamed of how it went down. Of how I treated you both. I’m so sorry, honey.”
I reach over the flickering candles to take her hand. She squeezes it tight.
“Can we go back to you being the person who always has my back and tells me everything?” I ask, voice wobbling. “I need my mom and my best friend back.”
She nods and flashes me a watery smile. “Absolutely.”
I listen to her tell me about the guy she’s seeing. The water turns cold, and Reid returns with food by the time I finish. She leaves the bathroom while I dry off and dress, but I find both her and Reid in the kitchen a little while later.
“I invited your mom to eat with us,” Reid says, hazel eyes boring into me. “Is that okay?”
Mom carries a plate out of the kitchen and into the dining area. Reid plants a quick, discrete kiss on my lips before grabbing our plates. The three of us settle to a nice, chatty dinner that feels normal and happy. It’s a strange place to be.
“…and when she goes to college—”
I jerk out of my gaze to frown at Mom. “I told you, I’m not going.”
“What will you do after school, then?”
Reid gives me an encouraging smile and nods.
“I have a business idea,” I tell her, waiting for her to laugh or shake her head. She waits patiently, eyebrows furling slightly. “It’s like daycare, but at night and on weekends.”
Since Mom’s expression has relaxed and grown curious, I am able to let go of the tension in my shoulders and continue.
“Rather than being a single babysitter at a person’s home, they could bring them to me.” I glance over at Reid. “I even already picked out the perfect place. A cute, quaint building between a lot of the neighborhoods and downtown where all the restaurants are. I could feed them dinner, watch movies or play with them, and even get them ready for bed so their parents can pick them up on the way home.”
Mom nods, smiling. “You certainly light up talking about it. Something like that is expensive, though. None of us are rolling in money.”
“I have Brayden’s college fund,” Reid offers. “I’m sure he wouldn’t miss a little of it, especially if I paid it back eventually.”
“No,” I say firmly. “I’ve already spoken to the Blakelys about it. Quinn says he would finance it if I will run it. We’d be partners.”
With both Reid and Mom staring at me with worry gleaming in their eyes, it almost feels like the old dynamic where they’re in the parental roles and I’m the child. But I remember that I’m an adult with big dreams. I’m going after them on my terms.
“And before either of you dismisses what I’ve spent months thinking about, know that I really, really want this. It’s not a whim or random idea. I love kids and I want to have my own business.”
“You trust them?” Reid asks, eyes darting all over me.
“I do.”
He sighs heavily. “Then I trust them too, because I trust you.”
I turn to look over at Mom. She picks at her food before relenting with a nod.
“I trust you too,” she mutters. “Even if it scares the hell out of me. Can I at least get one of my clients to look over the contract for you?”
Quinn is a good man, but I know Mom only wants to help. “I’d like that. Thanks.”
“Where is this place anyway?” Mom asks, relaxing a bit. “Is it even available to lease?” Then, she shakes her head. “Not that little yellow building you always rubberneck when we pass.”
I grin at her. “That’s the one!”
“That place is like a hundred years old,” she complains. “You know how hard it’s going to be for us to clean it up?”
Us?
She wants to help me, and it means a lot.
“I know someone who cleans houses pretty well,” I tease. “Now, if only I could find someone who was good at rehabbing old, crummy properties.”
We all laugh.
And then we get to planning.