Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
I walked over to the fridge and got out the butter. “I say you let this one mistake slide. He’s a guy. He might have thought you had enough Jellycats and didn’t want any more.”
“I SENT HIM A PICTURE!” she yelled.
“And like I said, he’s a guy.”
“Whatever. I still may leave him and move in with you. Even if you are only giving me the tiny room.”
I knew she’d never do it. She loved Zeke and Boston.
“Sure you will,” I replied.
“So, how are you feeling?” she asked. “You were missed here. I think Birch bitched about it the most. If he said, ‘Noa would have loved this,’ one time, he said it a million. It was verging on weird. My brother may have a thing for you.”
I doubted it, but even if he did, that was never happening. Not just because Ransom had broken me, but Birch was part of the only family I had ever really had. I wasn’t messing that up.
“I’m feeling better. Tell me what all I missed,” I said, wanting to get the topic off me.
Taking my phone over to the sofa, I sat down and listened as she chatted on about the Watts family Christmas, thankful for something to fill the silence.
Fifteen
Noa
The overcast sky matched my mood. Tugging the belt of my navy Burberry nylon hooded raincoat tighter, I shivered. Hopefully, it didn’t rain, but if it did, I was prepared. I hated carrying umbrellas and much preferred a hooded jacket. However, they didn’t help much if it was a downpour. I might regret not taking an umbrella. The sky did not look promising. It wasn’t cold enough for snow—at least I could be thankful for that.
My editor had called this morning, and I should be inside, writing. She was getting stressed about my deadline. The offices were closed until the second week in January, but she was still working at home and anxious for me to send her more words.
This was our first time working together on a book, and I knew she wanted to make a good impression. I didn’t want to take that from her, but I was blocked, and if I stayed in that apartment one more minute, I was going to go crazy. I needed to get out and walk. Clear my head. Possibly get inspiration for the next chapter because, right now, I had no clue what was going to happen next.
“Noa Raines,” a female voice said, and I paused.
Normally, if anyone noticed me in the city, they called me Juliette Romeo. Not my real name. When I turned around, a sense of foreboding began to sink over me.
An older woman with silver streaks in her once-dark-brown bob—wearing round black-framed glasses, dressed in a pair of tan slacks and an oversize cream cable-knit sweater beneath her heavy wool coat—stood several feet away from me. She studied me as closely as I was her.
Who was she? Something about the woman was familiar, but I couldn’t place it.
“Yes?” I finally replied when she said nothing more.
Her eyes flickered with unease, and then they narrowed. Her expression took on an edge. She looked fierce, and whatever had caused her anger was directed at me.
When had I pissed off someone’s grandmother?
“Where is my Arden?” she demanded with a sharper tone than before.
It was then that I realized what I’d found familiar … Arden’s eyes. This was his mother. He’d never even shown me a photo of his parents, but I could see it. Even her glare was like his.
“I don’t know,” I replied honestly.
I wasn’t about to tell her my theory of the mob. If he had left willingly, then he was an even bigger asshole than I’d realized. I’d heard that his parents didn’t believe he would just leave and were looking for him. But until now, I hadn’t thought too deeply about it. I’d been wrapped up in my own problems.
It was obvious his mother was hurting and desperate for answers. But I didn’t have any answers. For her or me.
“I don’t believe you,” she snapped. “You were engaged. The PI I hired found that out. Arden never told us about you.” She said it as if that were my fault. Her son had kept us a secret for his reasons, not mine. “Why is that? What was it that he had to be ashamed of about you?”
That didn’t sting. I knew her words were those of a mother in pain and she was lashing out, but nothing she said to me would actually do any damage. Arden hadn’t held that power over me.
“He didn’t tell anyone,” I said. And that was the truth.
How the PI had found out, I didn’t know. It was clearly a very good one. Maybe he could locate Arden. I hoped so, for his mother’s sake.
She pointed a finger at me accusingly. “He didn’t want to tell people.” She seethed as if she knew some secret I was keeping. “That made you retaliate! He hurt you, and you are a spoiled diva who expects to get her way. He didn’t give you what you wanted, and you got rid of him! I know you did this!”