Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Kirby comes first in my life.
“No,” Chesca answers succinctly. “Her little heart is broken.”
It’s not the first time my ex has said those words to me. Kirby is a sensitive child. Her heart breaks if she spots a dead butterfly on the sidewalk or misplaces a sock.
I happen to adore the fact that her heart is as open as it is. She cares deeply for everyone and everything around her. Apparently, tonight, something struck a chord inside her and sent her into her bedroom at Chesca’s with tears running down her cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” I ask the obvious question.
“Maura is under the weather,” she says with an exasperated sigh. “She’s not up to taking the Boston trip with us.”
Maura is Kirby’s nanny. She’s been with us from day one. Kirby loves her endlessly, and I’m fond of her, too. In many ways, she reminds me of my mom.
“Under the weather?” I repeat back the generic phrase that can mean anything from a mild head cold to a full-on bacterial infection that requires hospitalization.
Unfortunately, Maura has succumbed to both during her time with us.
“It’s the flu,” Chesca fills me in. “I told her to go see her doctor tomorrow. Maybe they can give her a shot of something to perk her up. I need her to be on that plane to Boston with us.”
I shake my head even though Chesca can’t see me. “She needs rest. Take the Boston trip without her. Your folks will help with Kirby.”
“Sure, but…” Her voice trails.
“But what?”
“But Kirby wants you tonight,” Chesca admits in barely more than a whisper. “Can you swing by and pick her up? You know how much she loves her dad hugs.”
I love them more.
“I’ll be there in twenty,” I predict, knowing I’ll likely be at the door to her apartment less than fifteen minutes from now.
“Thanks, Rook.”
I end the call without an acknowledgment just as I punch a finger into my phone’s screen to order a rideshare. I’d hop on the subway and head over there, but I don’t have the time. I want my daughter to get a dad hug as soon as possible.
As I step out of the building, I send a quick text message to my assistant, Svea, telling her to send Maura flowers and a care package in the morning.
A happy and healthy nanny makes for a content five-year-old. Maura only has six months left on her current contract, and I’ve had a sinking feeling for weeks that she has no interest in extending it.
Finding someone to replace her is an impossible task.
A chorus of giggles behind me sends my gaze over my shoulder.
I spot Abby and Carrie on the approach. Abby’s hand is wrapped around Carrie’s forearm as they talk.
Abby is the first to notice me, and when she does, she grins. “Hey! You’re still here?”
My gaze leaves her face immediately to focus on her sister.
Carrie smiles, and it chases away the cloud of gloom that settled over me ten minutes ago when my phone rang. “Hi, Rook.”
It’s the first time I’ve heard her say my name, and I fucking love it.
It’s a simple name, a gift from a relative born more than a century before I was. My dad saw the value in giving both his sons names that held meaning to him.
“Carrie.” I add a smile to her name. “I’m sorry again for rushing out.”
“It’s never a problem,” Abby takes the lead and accepts my apology with grace. “We have a lot of last minute wedding planning to take care of tonight.”
“Right,” I acknowledge her response with that one word and a glance in her direction.
Carrie’s face is like a magnet, though. I can’t keep my eyes off of it.
With her slightly upturned nose, her full lips, and her green eyes, she’s stunning.
“We’re getting dessert before we dive into wedding planning,” Carrie says. “There’s a cupcake shop on Amsterdam Avenue. It’s a quick walk.”
“Do you want to come with us?” Abby asks the question I sensed was coming. “If you can’t, we completely understand.”
A skilled attorney knows exactly how to read between the lines. Abby wants me to sit this one out. Since I can’t hang around, she’ll get her wish.
I glance at the screen of my phone as I see a black SUV on a slow approach in our direction. “I’m needed somewhere, so I have to pass.”
Abby’s smile widens. “Not a problem.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Abby,” I address her first before I shoot my gaze back to Carrie. “And I’ll see you at the wedding.”
“I’ll be there.” She nods once. “It was nice seeing you again, Rook.”
“You, too,” I say, even though it’s a fucking understatement.
I’m not a man who looks to the future for satisfaction, but I’m counting the hours until I see her again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Rook
There’s a saying about never scoring if you don’t take a shot.