Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
After dinner, we have dessert and I don’t know how I find room for it, other than the notion I might actually have two stomachs, but I have a huge piece of pumpkin pie with coffee. Catherine wraps up a to-go plate for me that I can eat off of for the next two days. After I offer my farewells, I can truly say that it’s been a really nice evening.
Outside of the questions about my family, which were quickly left in the dust, it was great food and stress-free conversation. It’s a shame Livia and I didn’t meet under different circumstances, because I could see dating her. Her parents are super cool and easy to hang with.
Not that I want to get serious with a woman, but I am the monogamous type. Only one at a time for me.
Livia is going to stay and hang with her parents, but she walks me out to my truck.
When I reach the driver’s door, she says, “Sorry that my mom got a little too personal with the questions tonight.”
“It’s all good,” I say, and reach for the handle.
“I don’t think it is,” she says, and I reluctantly turn back to her. “I mean… I can read between the lines. Sounds like your parents were and are pretty absent.”
“Careful, Livia,” I say, my voice lowering in warning. “You’re getting ready to break our deal.”
She holds up both hands. “Yes, I know. And you don’t have to say or offer up anything personal. I just want you to know that this wasn’t a strategy to invite you here. I wanted you to have a place to go on Thanksgiving—”
I step closer to her, cutting her off. “That’s bullshit and we both know it. You wanted to observe me in a family situation to see how I handled it. You might not have been asking probing questions, but you were sure as hell on the clock.”
Her expression is the thing I can’t handle. Not pity but close enough.
“Don’t,” I say.
“Don’t what?”
“Look at me like that.”
“Like what, Locke?”
“Like I’m someone who needs to be…” The word won’t come. I shake my head. “I’m fine and I don’t need fixed.”
“I know you’re fine,” she says, so steady I almost believe her. “I’m not looking at you like you need saving. I’m looking at you like you’re a person who deserved better than holidays with the hired help and I’m allowed to think that without it meaning anything you don’t want it to mean.”
“You don’t know what I deserve.”
“Maybe not.” She takes a step toward me. “But I know what I saw in there. The way you looked at my parents. The way you looked at my mother when she filled your plate.” Another step. “You can be angry about that, or you can let it be what it was—one good evening—and stop looking for the exit before it’s over.”
“It is over.” I reach for the door handle but then turn back for one last thought. “And for the record—this whole thing… the winery, the team party, tonight. You think I don’t see it? Every single move has been calculated. The no-pressure speech, the three sessions, the Come to Thanksgiving it’s just a meal.” I shake my head. “It’s all the same play, Livia. Get Locke comfortable, get Locke talking, get Locke in a room with a family that actually functions so he can sit there and feel the weight of everything he never had and maybe that cracks him open enough to—”
“That’s not what this was.”
“You don’t get to tell me what it was.” My voice is lower now, which is worse than if I’d raised it. “I’ve been doing what you asked. I showed up to the party. I came here. I sat at that table and answered your father’s questions and let your mother feed me and the whole time you watched. Taking notes inside here.” I tap a finger to my temple. “Filing it all away for whatever comes next in the plan. I’m not a project, Livia. I’m not someone who has to be figured out and fixed and handed back to Patrick Rowe with a neat little report about what’s broken and how you found the way in.”
“I know that—”
“Do you?” I take a step toward her and she holds her ground, which I expect because she’s a woman who won’t give an inch. “From where I’m standing, every single thing you’ve done since day one has been about finding the door. The one I keep locked. And tonight you thought you found it, didn’t you? Watched me look at your parents, watched me sit at that table and not know what to do with any of it, and thought—there it is. There’s—”
Livia steps into me, puts her hands on my face and pulls me down to her mouth where she proceeds to kiss me.