Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 105756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
We were both as proud and as stubborn as each other.
“That was poor form, sir,” Therese said like she was disappointed in me.
I’d always valued her ability to tell it to me straight, but in this case, I didn’t want to hear it. I’d been determined to get Ada Rose out of my life as soon as possible. So, why did I feel like a piece of shit right now?
“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” I grunted as I heard the front door slam shut. Walking into the living room, I peered out the window to see Ada driving away in her dark blue Yaris that was probably the guts of twenty years old. I stood there for several moments before wandering to the back of the house where the bedrooms were located.
I found myself standing in the doorway of my old room. It was almost exactly as it had been when I was a kid. Mam had barely changed a thing, and emotion threatened to rise, but I pushed it back down.
Across the hall was the spare bedroom, which appeared to now be occupied by Ada Rose. Without thinking, I stepped inside the room and was immediately hit with the subtle fragrance of mandarins. Was that what she smelled like? The bed was neatly made, while some clothes were strewn across the armchair by the window. Peering at her meagre possessions and the soft, feminine way she’d decorated her bedroom, a whack of regret filled me. Therese had been right. The way I’d dealt with Ada was poor form. I’d allowed my grief and my feelings towards her father to turn me into an utter arsehole. Just because Conor Rose was a lowlife didn’t necessarily mean Ada was the same, even if she was the spitting image of him.
I needed to fix this.
The only question was, would she even talk to me again long enough for me to remedy the situation?
3.
Ada
Thankfully, Jonathan Oaks and his assistant were gone by the time I arrived home.
After experiencing one of the most embarrassing encounters of my life—Jonathan walking in on me when I was stepping out of the bath—I pretty much hoped to avoid ever seeing him again. Yes, he’d be at the funeral, but once that was over, and I was moved out of Leonora’s house, I prayed our paths didn’t cross. I mean, the man literally saw everything. And how smug he’d been about it afterward? Ugh, I’d wanted to slap him.
To escape the awkwardness, not to mention my fury at being given the option of paying almost seven times my current rent or moving out within a week, I’d gone to grab some groceries and attempt to calm down. And yes, I was aware that a grand a month was pretty much the going rate for a room these days, but I had debt I was currently paying off that ate away at my salary.
Two years ago, after much misery having my leg issues treated through the public health system in Ireland, I’d opted to travel to Austria. It was one of the top countries in Europe for orthopaedics, and there was a surgeon there offering a new, cutting-edge procedure. The surgery had gone well, and it eliminated much of my pain, as well as 95 percent of my mobility issues, but it had also left me in debt. A lot of debt. The loan would be paid off in another two years, but until then, I needed to live frugally, which was why living at Leonora’s had been ideal. She and Dad got a live-in gardener/shopper/housekeeper, and I got cheap rent.
With my dad and his lovely wife gone, those days were over. I’d pay the highest rent in the world if it would bring them back. I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage without them. It was their company I’d miss the most. Living with family was a lot different than living alone or with housemates. I liked having someone there I could talk to about my day, someone to watch TV and eat meals with.
When I was done with the groceries, I went to visit my sister, Frances. Like me, she and Dad hadn’t been close for a long time, but he had been a part of her life in recent years, and I knew his passing affected her almost as much as it affected me. She still hadn’t found the right moment to tell her kids that their granddad had died.
“Oh man, I bet you were livid,” my sister replied in a hushed voice after listening to a recap of my morning. She stood leaning against her kitchen counter, a cup of tea held to her lips as she took a sip. Frances was tall and slender, with a pale complexion and bright red hair. She was the spitting image of our mother, whereas I was a carbon copy of Dad.