Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 25004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
“I haven’t heard from him in a while, and I got worried,” I admit.
“He's probably at his lab. Where he spends most of his time.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I was just there.” Her brows draw up in surprise.
“Hmm. He’s not here, the lab, or with you? Interesting.” Bri knows a bit about me.
“Do we have guests?” a woman calls. I see Jase’s mom making her way down the stairs.
“Lucia came to see Jase,” Bri tells her. His mom’s eyes light up.
“The chef!” Jase’s mom moves fast down the stairs. “You two have been dating.”
“She has good moments,” Bri says under her breath for only me to hear.
“Jase and I are…” When her face starts to fall, I correct myself. “Yes, we’re dating. I brought food.” I hold up the bag. There was no way in hell I was going to ruin her moment of joy.
“I already had dinner, but I’m sure I have room for more.” She walks over and cups my face with her soft hands. “You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you.” I blush.
“Sweet too. I see it in the eyes. My Jase needs someone sweet. He can be too serious at times.” She drops her hand. “Come, did Jase tell you I’m getting too old to be waiting on grandbabies?” I almost drop the bag in my hand.
“Grandbabies?” I repeat.
“Don’t you want children?”
“Yes, I want babies. One day.” I set the bag on the kitchen island.
Great, now I’m wondering if Jase only asked me to marry him to knock me up.
CHAPTER 19
JASE
The restaurant is closed. I knock on the front door and then the steel service one in the back. Fist slightly bruised, I step back and survey the dark windows. Maybe she’s asleep. I reach down and gather up a handful of pebbles and toss them up against the glass. Still no response. The last time I waited for her, I fell asleep, and then her family showed up, and it was kind of a disaster. A loud, noisy, and somewhat entertaining disaster.
The difference is I have her phone number now. I pull up my phone and type a question.
You home?
I stare at my screen for what feels like a good five minutes but is apparently only about 30 seconds according to the clock before tucking my device into my pocket. Either she’s mad at me or she’s asleep. Otherwise, she would respond to me, right?
My options are the lab or home, and since I need to check up on my mom, I decide for home. When I pull up to the house, it’s lit up like a Christmas tree. Every floor is blazing bright.
I let myself in and call out, “I’m home.”
Nurse Bri’s disembodied voice comes through the house intercom. “We’re upstairs in your mom’s suite.”
I hear a soft giggle. That sounds strangely familiar, but it’s cut off before I can confirm anything. I throw my keys on the entryway table and, too impatient to wait for the elevator, take the stairs two at a time. At the top floor, I hear music playing and the sound of laughter, and the scent of spicy arrabiata sauce and cinnamon.
“You’re having a party?” I ask, trying to disguise my surprise.
“Oh, Jason, you’re finally home. One of your classmates stopped by.” Mom beckons to me. I walk over and slide my hand into her outstretched one. Warmth blooms through my chest when I see her. My mom tightens her grip as she leans toward Lucia. “Jason is such a hard worker. He’s going to be a doctor someday.”
“Is that right?” Lucia pours some dark liquid into a cup and hands it to me. “You must be tired from your studying.”
“A little.” I sniff the cup.
“It’s spiced cider.”
“That explains the cinnamon.”
“You have a really good nose,” she observes.
“My Jase is good at everything,” Mom comments. She tugs on my hand until I crouch down. “Since you’re here, why don’t you take Lucia home? I’m sure her parents are wondering where she is.”
“You do look a little tired.” Nurse Bri jumps to her feet. “I’ll help you wash up while the kids clear the table.”
Bri helps Mom into the bathroom while Lucia and I silently pile the dishes onto two trays and send them down to the kitchen via the dumbwaiter.
“Are you mad I’m here?”
“No, why?” I ask in surprise.
“You’re so quiet.”
“I’m not used to talking to people. I spend a lot of time in the lab, and I think my tongue gets locked inside my mouth.”
“The kitchen is a noisy place,” she says. “Someone’s always shouting, whether it’s an order from the front of the house or us in the back yelling that we need more sauce.”
“We’re not much alike,” I muse.
“No, I guess not.” Her voice is soft, and her lips turn down.
I frown. “That’s a good thing.”
“It is?”
“Yes. Opposites exist in everything science. Louis Pasteur taught us that chemical compounds like tartrates have both a right-hand and a left-hand appearance. They’re made up of the same number of atoms, but the molecules twist the light differently. In fact, the dill herb and the spearmint are opposites. The dill is the left-handed version of the same isometric form as the spearmint, which is the right-handed version. Opposites are important.”