Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 107352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“It’s so pretentious when you read it, though.”
“Lots of really big words,” he said, chuckling, pressing into my side. “Very fancy.”
“I’ve told Owen a hundred times that he needs to put his thesaurus down.”
“What was interesting to read about, though,” he began, his breath warm on my ear and down the side of my neck, “was that all the things your boss says his fixers do, you’ve done since you’ve been here. The description may have way too many ten-dollar words, but it certainly does not oversell what fixers do. It’s very impressive. You save people and whole families.”
“It’s actually not that—”
“It is,” he murmured. “You know it is.”
If I turned to him, we’d be nose to nose, so I gave my attention to Quinn across the table from me instead. “Would you like something to drink?”
“You’re too late,” she said, pointing to the glass of strawberry ice tea in front of her. “Tatum already served me.”
“You made how much at the yard sale?” John was asking Darwin, probably because he got tired of waiting for me to answer his question about what exactly I did. I was making a great impression all around because Luke was so distracting. “I don’t know what you think a lot of—”
“Over a thousand dollars,” Tatum chimed in. “And now we—”
“That’s a terrible habit, young lady,” John scolded his granddaughter. “You should never interrupt someone when they’re speaking.”
She tipped her head. “But you interrupted Darwin first, then me.”
“Yes, but I’m an adult, and you’re a child.”
“So I have less rights than you?” she asked. “That doesn’t seem correct.”
“I know better, yes, so I need to guide you over what’s right and wrong.”
“Oh, okay, then,” Tatum said with a roll of her eyes.
“Young lady,” he snapped at her. “You will not treat me with that kind of disrespect.”
“I’m sorry,” she rushed out. “I was playing, but I can see how, if I put myself in your place, rolling my eyes was not very nice.”
“Thank you,” he said stiffly.
“But so you know, about the money, we’re all using it now and have to write down whatever we use it for and how much we took out.”
“Where are you keeping all this cold hard cash?” Viola inquired.
“In the kitchen,” Darwin told her, then got up and darted to where she and Griff were. He opened the cabinet under the sink, pulled out the glass quart-size jar with the pencil, the piece of paper, and the wads of cash, then placed it gently on the counter. “Here it is.”
“It was mostly Mom’s crystal collection,” Tatum informed her grandmother, leaning into my side. “But there was other stuff too. If you wanna buy something, you just have to write it down and do the math so we know what’s in there.”
Viola smiled at her. “This is outstanding.”
“There was more money in there, but I wanted more glitter pens, Griff wanted that light thing that’s in his room that makes it look like he’s underwater, and Darwin wanted these dumb—”
Luke cleared his throat.
“I mean, Darwin wanted these blocks that help you memorize the periodic table.”
“I see,” Viola said, returning the jar to its place and closing the cupboard. “Blocks sound more expensive than pens.”
“The money should go in the bank,” John commented, sounding grouchy.
“Not today, Satan,” Tatum said playfully, and Darwin laughed.
That fast, John reached across the table and would have smacked Tatum’s cheek, but his wrist was in my grip before he could complete the action. He gasped and tried to yank his hand away, but I tightened my hold, and he couldn’t move.
“We’re not hitters in this house, Mr. Duchesne,” I explained before letting him go.
“I wasn’t going to hit her, just give her a correction.”
“We don’t do that here,” Luke apprised his father. “Ever.”
“There is a big difference between spanking, disciplining, and whatever you’re thinking,” he told his son. “And you know it.”
“I don’t, though,” Luke assured him. “And I’ve never hit any of my kids.”
“I didn’t hit you,” he groused.
“No, that’s true,” Luke said, chuckling. “You beat the crap outta me.”
“You did, he’s not wrong,” Quinn chimed in.
John threw up his hands in disgust. “Those were spankings, Luke, big difference between that and beating the crap out of you. Don’t be dramatic in front of other people.”
“I had to go to the hospital once, as you recall.”
“That was an accident,” John barked defensively. “You fell off the porch.” He turned to Viola. “Remind him what happened.”
“You raised your hand to slap him, he flinched, lost his balance, and fell five feet off our unfinished back deck and broke his right wrist. That’s precisely what happened, Jonathan Edward Duchesne.”
“It wasn’t a slap, Vi,” John insisted, but I heard the regret in his voice as he got up and walked into the living room and lay down on the floor like a starfish.