Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“Are you single?”
I nodded. “I am.”
“No special someone to take sailing on the weekend on this beautiful boat?”
“Not at the moment.”
She tilted her head. “That’s a shame.”
My phone started to buzz. I looked down. “It’s the office. Please excuse me for a moment.”
“Of course.”
I swiped to answer, knowing full well who would be on the line, and took a few steps away from Amanda.
“Hi, Mr. Lexington. It’s Millie, and I’m about to head out for the day. It’s just about six o’clock. You wanted me to call and let you know when it was six.”
“Yes, that’s great. Thank you.”
I held the phone up to my ear for a minute after my assistant hung up, and then turned back to my interviewer. “Sorry. I have an overseas call I’m going to need to take in a few minutes. Do you think we can finish up?”
“Oh. Of course. No problem.” She stood. “I think I have everything I need for now anyway.”
It’s gonna be one hell of a dull article. “Great. Thank you.”
Amanda packed up her notepad and dug a business card out of her purse. Writing something on the back, she extended it to me with a tilt of her head. “I wrote my home number on the card.” She smiled. “I love to sail.”
I smiled back like I was flattered. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time I’m going out.” Which will not likely be anytime soon…considering the boat hasn’t moved from the dock in close to a decade.
Offering a hand, I helped Amanda over to the dock.
She lifted the strap of her bag onto her shoulder and looked down at the name painted in gold across the back of the navy hull. “Leilani May,” she said. “Who’s the boat named after?”
I winked. “Sorry. Interview is over.”
Chapter 7
* * *
Grant - 15 years ago
I couldn’t stop staring.
The snow was coming down pretty heavy, and the new girl stood out front with her mouth open, tongue sticking out, and no shoes on as she spun around with her eyes shut. She laughed as she caught snowflakes in her mouth.
Lily.
Lily. I needed to get some of those flowers to see what they smelled like. Not that I was dumb enough to think Lily would actually smell like a lily, but I somehow knew the smell was going to be the best smell ever.
I had a gnawing ache in my chest as I watched from the window. The logical reason for it was the grilled cheese and tomato soup Mom had made for lunch earlier. But I knew that wasn’t it. Even at fourteen, I knew what love felt like. Well, I hadn’t until an hour ago when the doorbell rang. Yet now I was absolutely certain of it.
Lily.
Lily.
Grant’s Lily.
It even sounds right, doesn’t it?
Grant and Lily.
Lily and Grant.
If we have kids, maybe they’ll be named after flowers, too—Violet, Poppy, Ivy. Wait. Ivy isn’t a flower. It’s a damn weed. I think?
Whatever.
It’s not important.
I leaned closer to the window in my father’s office, and my warm breath fogged the view. Raising a hand, I wiped it clear with the cuff of my sweatshirt. The movement caught Lily’s attention down below. She stopped spinning, cupped her hands around her eyes to shield them from the snow, and squinted up at me. I probably should’ve ducked so she didn’t see me, but I was frozen—completely and totally mesmerized by this girl.
She yelled something I couldn’t hear with the window shut. So I unlocked it and slid it open.
I had to clear my throat to get words out. “Did you say something?”
“Yeah. I said, are you some sort of a creeper or something?”
Shit. Now she thinks I’m weird. First I’d practically run out of the room when my mother introduced her to us, and now she’d caught me watching her like some sort of stalker. I needed to play it cool.
“No,” I yelled. “Just watching to see if any of your toes are going to turn black and fall off from frostbite. Didn’t you see The Day After Tomorrow?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never been to a movie.”
My eyes widened. “You’ve never been to a movie?”
“Nope. My mom doesn’t believe in television or movies. She thinks TV makes us believe stupid things.”
“But if you’d watched The Day After Tomorrow, you might have shoes on.”
She smiled, and My. Heart. Literally. Skipped. A. Beat. It felt like it had done a quick somersault the moment she flashed her pearly whites. I rubbed at the spot on my chest, though it didn’t hurt at all.
Looking down again at Lily, I yelled, “Hey, do that again.”
“Do what?”
“Smile.”
And there it was—an unmistakable skipped beat inside my chest.
Lily turned to look all around her. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Bells jingling?”
Maybe we were both imagining things.
“No. No bells.”
She shrugged. “Maybe it’s Santa Claus. I heard you rich people believe until you’re, like, thirty because you keep getting gifts every year.”