Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
“You’d better. Because you own me.”
Seven
Cressida
Present Day
Kash might have exited my life, but he remained in my dreams. However, since I’d run into him on Tuesday, he’d starred in every dream I had the last two nights. If there was a way to make it stop, I would. Thinking about him was something I had trained myself not to do, and it had taken almost two years. But that had all been shot to hell, it seemed.
Throwing myself into preparing for the holiday tea party that Glenda was hosting for her friends had been a little distraction. I cleaned the place until it shone, prepped all the dishes she had wanted, and pulled recipes from online. Although she had told me she would have it catered, I’d insisted that I wanted to do it all. I needed to. Otherwise, I would be staring at a book every evening once Glenda went to bed at seven, pretending to read it while all I did was replay the few words Kash had said.
Glenda’s guest arrived today at two. Once that was over and I cleaned up, what was I going to use to keep myself busy at night? Maybe I could buy some cheap earbuds and listen to free audiobooks. I had the money to buy them, but I wanted to save every dime I could. I never knew what the future held, and I wanted to eventually have my own security of a vehicle and savings.
Saturdays were my day off, and I dreaded this next one. Glenda always left with Grissele in the mornings and didn’t return until it was time for her to bathe and go to bed. Although Glenda always left me her car and encouraged me to go do something for myself, I never did. I had nowhere to go. I normally read a book in the sunroom, walked around her neighborhood for an hour to get in some exercise, and watched a movie.
“This place has never been cleaner,” Glenda said as she walked into the sunroom.
I was finishing setting up the tables with the holiday china and turned to look at her. She was wearing a green sweater with snowflakes on it and a white pencil skirt that hit mid-calf. The festive sight she made caused me to smile.
“You look lovely,” I told her.
She placed a hand on her hip and posed for me. “Well, thank you,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for an occasion to wear this sweater. I bought it on a clearance sale last year after Christmas. One can never turn down a luxurious chenille piece when it’s sixty percent off.”
I was sure that Glenda could afford it at the normal price tag, but she wasn’t one to waste money. She liked a good deal, and if there was a sale in town, she was going to find it.
“And green is your color,” I replied. “It shows off your eyes.”
She wiggled her eyebrows with a smirk. “Well then, I might just need to go buy some more of it.”
I decided then that I knew exactly what I would get her for Christmas. A scarf in that exact color. For Glenda, I would splurge.
The oven timer dinged.
“That’s the rose zucchini tartlets,” I said. “I’ll go get those out and put in the spinach puff pastry Christmas trees.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to see and taste those,” Glenda replied as I left the room.
The only thing I hadn’t made for today was the yule log. There was a bakery in town where Glenda always bought from, and I knew if I tried, I couldn’t make one like that. It was centerpiece-worthy. I was happy with how all the rest that I had made turned out. I’d spent a few evenings doing some trials and had to look up how to successfully make the puff pastry on YouTube, but I had succeeded eventually.
This was the first Christmas I had enjoyed in a very long time. Only my earlier years with my parents were happy memories. I struggled to remember a time that Pirate hadn’t ruined the holiday for us. He had always been difficult. Even at a young age I had tried my best to handle him to keep the family peace, but near the end, he’d gotten worse. He had started to scare me—
No! I wasn’t thinking about that. I’d talked about it all I ever wanted to in therapy. My mother had sent me to a counselor three days a week until her death. My father had canceled it, saying it was a waste of time.
Opening the stove, I pulled out the tartlets, and they were perfect. Sighing in relief, I placed them on the stone countertop and went to take the puff pastry Christmas trees from the refrigerator. Once these were done, all would be baked. I just had to begin placing things on the food buffet in the sunroom.