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)
“Thanks,” he muttered, not looking me in the eye as he moved to leave and almost fell into a potted plant. I grabbed him before he hit the ground.
“Okay, let’s get you back to your room.” I took the key card back from him and checked to see his room number. 462. Pretty sure I passed that one leaving Maggie’s room.
We headed back the way I came, and Derek mumbled a low, “Sorry,” as I kept him upright. Something about the way he said it fucked me up, and though I wasn’t typically the sort of man to pry into another man’s business, I felt the need to help him somehow. Whatever he was going through, he clearly wasn’t handling it very well on his own.
When we got to his room, which turned out to be a large suite, I set him down on the bed before I grabbed him a bottle of water from the mini fridge. I uncapped the bottle and handed it to him, and he took several long gulps.
“I’m a fucking mess. Sorry you have to see me like this,” he said at last, slurring his words a little, and again, I felt so sorry for the bloke. Derek Balfe came from a highly successful, well-respected family who owned some of the most popular hotels in the country. As far as I knew, he ran those hotels alongside his father and younger brother.
I shot him a commiserating look, even though I had no clue what was going on with him. “Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“All right, well, do you want me to call Rhys?”
Derek grimaced. “Christ, no. It’s the day before his wedding. He doesn’t need me bringing him down.” I nodded and sat on the armchair across from the bed. Ada was waiting for me in our suite. Hell, she was probably naked and swishing around in the bathtub right now, but I couldn’t just leave Derek. Not when he was in such a state. It didn’t make sense because we were barely even friends, and it wasn’t like I was the sort of person who was in the habit of helping others. I’d spent the last decade being fairly selfish and self-centred, if I were being honest. Did this mean Ada was rubbing off on me? She lived to help others, went out of her way to ensure the people living in her nursing home had the best quality lives they could. It appeared her caring nature was a little infectious.
“You sure you don’t want to talk? I’m a vault. Whatever you say stays in this room,” I offered. Attending my grief counselling sessions, I’d recently learned that getting stuff off my chest helped ease some of the tension inside me. Just talking and getting another person’s perspective could lessen the load exponentially.
Derek raked a hand over his beard, a look of conflict on his face before he replied, “My ex-wife is leaving for a year and a half. She’s a violinist, and this famous pop singer wants her to come on her world tour. We share custody of our two kids, and my daughter, Gigi, has taken it very hard. She’s only fourteen and can’t understand why her mother is choosing to leave her for over a year. The other day I found her …”
His voice cracked, and I tensed, listening.
“She’d locked herself in her bedroom, and fearing the worst, I kicked the door in. I found her getting sick, having taken an entire packet of painkillers. They were only over-the-counter ones, but I rushed her to the hospital to have her checked out just in case. She was fine, but I just … I don’t know how to help her. I feel useless. When I told her mother what happened, she dismissed the entire thing as a ploy for attention. I really don’t understand her sometimes. Our daughter is fucking suicidal, and she still refuses to cancel going on tour.”
“Fuck, Derek, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
He sniffed, pawing at the wetness beneath his eyes. It was incredibly jarring to see a grown man like him cry, especially one that was normally so put together. It was also humbling. “I managed to convince Gigi to come to the wedding. Well, it was more my sister Nuala’s doing. She’s such a ray of sunshine. I don’t know where I’d be without her. Gigi’s staying in the suite next door, and they’re having a girl’s night. But I’m a fucking mess right now, and I hate the thought of her seeing me like this.”
Studying him, I had a feeling his daughter’s mental health wasn’t the only thing weighing on him, but he’d already revealed so much, so I didn’t push him.
“Well, then, first thing’s first,” I began, rolling up my sleeves as I stood from the chair. “You need a shower and to sober up. Then you’re going to shave while I contact the concierge to see if they can procure the services of a barber. You desperately need a haircut before tomorrow. Did you bring a suit for the wedding?”