Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 74882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“Mamá is doing well,” I say, hoping to pique his interest. “The hotel took some storm damage, but she’ll figure it out. She always does.”
Dad keeps staring outside. I let my gaze roam over my father. He’s still young. His black hair only has a few streaks of gray. He’s lost some of his muscle mass over the past few months, but you can tell he’s still a strong man. It’s his mind that’s a mess. The stroke fucked him up. I miss our talks, but he hasn’t said a word since the stroke. I know he’s in there because I can see it in his eyes.
“I met a girl.”
He turns his head and those dark eyes latch onto mine. They’re sharp and intelligent and loving like always. My heart thunders in my chest. I wish I knew how to fix him.
“Of course hearing about a girl would get your attention, Dad,” I tease. “Still so much a romantic.” Before the stroke, he was riding my ass about saving a little room in my heart for love too. A career isn’t everything. “She’s great.” I can’t help but smile thinking about her. “And a total psychopath.”
His dark eyes twinkle with barely contained delight.
“Don’t act so pleased about her being crazy, man,” I say with a chuckle. “She’s mean. Yells at me a lot.” I can’t wipe the stupid smile off my face. “We live far apart, though. Long-distance relationships never work.”
He, of all people, knows this.
The room grows silent and all I can hear is the steady sound of our breathing.
“I wish I could figure out a way to keep this girl,” I say out loud, not just for him but for myself. “She’s worth finding a way. Beautiful. Smart as hell. Funny without even trying.”
When I look up, my dad is smiling. Well, a half smile anyway. His smiles used to light up his whole face. Now it’s rare and only partially reflects his happiness. A single tear rolls down his cheek. I take his hand and squeeze it.
“I love you, Dad. You know that, right? You gave up so much for me, including Mamá, and I will never forget that. You’re my best friend.”
His hand clutches mine.
“Oh, so I’m chopped liver,” I joke. “You want to hear more about the girl. Fine. I’ll tell you all about the Sheridan Reid. About how her hair is smooth like silk but her tongue is sharp as a whip. She’s really bossy, you know.”
Dad continues to smile as tears keep rolling down his face.
I tell him all about her. Regina comes in to feed him some supper. She hooks me up with some pudding. Then I continue on telling them about Sher. Once Regina is gone, I pull out my phone and look her up. All I can find are pictures of her for her company, RT Corp. Her dad is an older version of her, but not as stiff looking. In every photo, Sheridan’s back is board straight and she doesn’t smile.
I saw her smile plenty. I knew it was something special, but seeing these photos makes me realize just how rare it was for her to let go and be free.
When I don’t find much on her, I look up Damian Birch. He does, in fact, have an entire show about revamping yachts. It’s pretty interesting and one day I want to watch some of the episodes. I end up finding his Instagram and getting swept up in the pictures there. He’s uploaded a lot from Mexico. There’s even one of my butt in my yellow trunks with the hashtag yummypilot. He has a ton of followers but one stands up on top from Estefania. She put a bunch of hearts and tagged SherBearHennessy. I follow the new tag over to what appears to be Sheridan’s Instagram.
Her Instagram is loaded down with recent pictures of her dad’s wedding. He stands with an older woman close to his age at an altar. Sher is the bridesmaid beside them. She’s beautiful in a yellow dress that hugs her curves in all the right places. The best part of the picture is how she adoringly stares at her father as though he’s her whole world.
I look up at my dad who’s watching me with rapt interest. Chuckling, I show Dad the picture. He half smiles again. I scroll through more pictures and find one with this David shithead. As soon as I see him, my stomach turns. He’s old like her dad and has a smugness about him that gets on my nerves. It’s as though he knows he’s rich and successful and good-looking for an old fucker, and that gives him a right to the prettiest girl in the room.
My girl.
“That’s the asshole who she thinks she belongs to. Her dad’s best friend,” I explain to my dad. “What a prick.”