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I’m entranced by the way her lips spread, as if she can’t help it.
Her smiles are rare. She makes me work for them.
And then it’s gone so quickly, I wonder if it was there at all.
But I’m not deterred; my work ethic is unmatched. “I’ll be here tomorrow night to pick you up.”
She shakes her head. “My sister will be here. I assume you still have my email from all the failed attempts at contacting me.”
She squares her shoulders, and it’s as if her vulnerability has dissolved. I’m almost afraid to look her in the eye, I’m so entranced by the puzzle that she is.
“Send me the details, and I’ll meet you,” she confirms as she stares down at the register, shuffling papers, seemingly dismissing me.
“It’s a date.”
“It’s abusiness meeting,” she corrects, not bothering to look up at me before I turn to leave.
It’s a date,I think to myself with a smirk.
CHAPTER TEN
TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT
ELOISE
There’sa permanent scowl on my face.
It isn’t like I’m known for my effortless smiles or my ability to brighten a room. But I’ll blame this mood on today’s correspondence.
As I scroll over the details of the email on my phone one last time, I let out a frustrated grunt.
This man.
My lawyer has drawn up a contract, which is attached to this email.Feel free to read it over and send it back along with any requested changes.
I look forward to business and pleasure with you.
This…asshole.
It isn’t hard to picture the smirk on his face as I read that last sentence. The smugness. The audacity to think I am a sure thing.
I’m sitting in my car, trying to find any last-minute stash, a hidden reserve, of patience. But the longer I sit, the more my frustration festers.
My mother was a freethinker. She swore as much as she desired, revealed her anger in theatrical displays, and defended her irrational ways by using the word “feelings.”
Herfeelingswere important. They deserved to be acknowledged.
My father was reserved. He was delighted by her, of course. Entertained, for sure. But I admire the way he was able to love her and still be deeply rooted in his own identity.
All these memories serve to tell me that in this moment, I have to decide if I can button up like my father.
Or unleash my rage like my mother.
Today feels like rage.
I step out of my car and onto the gravel that leads to the impressive house before me. I’d heard that houses were being built on the outskirts of Cherry Cove. This is my first time seeing one and, even in my glorious fury, I can acknowledge the beauty of the building in front of me.
The gray home stands proudly, previously hidden behind trees and a long winding driveway, its tall windows and white trimming peering down at me.
