Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“Well, I’m not Dad. And any intention I had of honouring that promise died when you pissed me off and ran away. I might have a job for you, but you’re going to need to show me you’re sticking around first.” I opened my document again, taking my focus back to my work. “At the very least, you can start doing Beth’s Christmas deliveries to help her out while you get back on everyone’s good side.”
Zara sighed as she stood up. “I don’t know why I ever expected any sympathy out of you.”
“Neither do I,” I said, reaching for my phone. “You haven’t forgotten the way to the school, have you?”
She thumped me in the shoulder as she walked past. “There’s a reason you’re single.”
“There might be a reason I’m single, but Zara? You’re lucky you’re not.” I dialled the school’s number as I glared at her. “Now get out of my office.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO – THOMAS
ME: What are you doing?
I stared at my phone.
“What are you doing?” Julian asked, peering over. “Who’s Cleopatra’s Tomb?”
“That’s a long story,” I said slowly. “And I’m not really sure how to explain it.”
“Is it my sister?” Hazel said, putting two pints on the table in front of us. “I had dinner over there earlier and an advert for a Cleopatra show came on and she cracked up.”
I grimaced. “Yeah. Please don’t make me explain it.”
“No, I need you to explain it.”
“I’d really rather not.” I’d had a long enough day without going into that again. “Do you know what she’s doing?”
She paused, holding her gin glass to her lips, and narrowed her eyes. “Why? What are your intentions with my big sister? I won’t stand for you hitting it and quitting it, you know. She and I might be in the middle of a fight right now, but I’ll still hit you.”
“Why are you fighting?”
“We’re sisters. We fight over toilet paper if there’s nothing else available.”
In other words, Hazel had another crazy last-minute wedding idea and Sylvie told her where to shove it.
I raised my eyebrows. “So, you were both being unreasonable.”
“Sylvie is always unreasonable,” Hazel grumbled. “But don’t think I’ll forgive you if you mess with her.”
“I think Sylvie can take care of herself, honey,” Julian said, fighting back a laugh and ending our back-and-forth. “Especially against this guy.”
He could say that again.
“I was only asking,” I replied.
“She has a call with a client,” Hazel said, finally putting me out of my misery. “I give it ten minutes before she’s here, because she said she’s a complete bridezilla. If she even comes.”
“I’m so glad you aren’t like that.” Julian wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the side of her head.
Mm. I’d heard enough of Sylvie’s complaints to think that statement wasn’t necessarily entirely true.
“That’s because Sylvie hit me with a bridal magazine,” Hazel grumbled. “Right on the head. Like five times.”
“If it works, it works.” I shrugged. Pretty sure it didn’t, though.
Hazel shot me a dark look. “Why do you care what she’s doing, anyway? Are you sure you didn’t do anything to her the other night?”
“What exactly could I have done to her?”
“I don’t know. Asked her out?”
“And risk my life? No, thank you. I’m too young to die.”
Julian snorted. “She’s not as hostile to you as she was. She used to wrinkle her face in disgust if your name was mentioned, but now she doesn’t even bat an eyelid.”
“That’s not true. Nana asked if she had a good night last night, and she blushed. That’s why I want to know what he did to her,” Hazel said, pouting.
I held up my hands. “I didn’t do anything to her.”
Well, not really.
“There was nothing more than a badly placed bet on my behalf,” I settled on.
“Does that explain the Cleopatra thing?” Hazel asked.
“Not really. But if you see her bossing me around like a slave, it’ll explain that.”
Julian laughed. “Well, now I know what I want as a wedding gift. To see Sylvie bossing you around.”
Hazel shook her head and stuffed her hand in her bag. “It’s my hairdresser. I have to get this.” She pulled her coat on as she headed outside, ramming the phone between her head and her shoulder.
“Why does Sylvie get to boss you around?” Julian asked the second his almost-wife was out of sight.
“A badly placed bet, like I said. In my defense, I’d won all the rounds of Connect-4 prior to that one, so my confidence wasn’t because I was a bit drunk or anything.”
He stared at me. “Wait. Are you telling me you two got stuck in the snow, hightailed it to your place, got a bit drunk, and played Connect-4?”
“I didn’t think Monopoly was wise with Sylvie’s temper. Nor Jenga, given the sharp edges of those blocks.”
“You, a single man, and Sylvie, a single woman—who you quite obviously have a crush on—got drunk together and nothing happened?”