A Cosmic Kind of Love Read Online Samantha Young

Categories Genre: Chick Lit, Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 117177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
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“Fuck.” I threw my phone on the couch and scrubbed a hand over my face.

The only person I’d told about the job offer was Aunt Richelle. She’d confused me even more by telling me I needed to make a choice for myself and no one else. I knew she wasn’t wrong about that. Logically I knew that. But I couldn’t imagine life without Hallie, so she was a huge factor. End of story. Never mind the fact that I wasn’t even sure I wanted the job. Which was why I hadn’t told Hallie yet, because I felt like throwing that kind of wrench in our works should only be done when I was certain the job was something I really wanted. In not telling her for that reason, I was on my own to ponder the consequences if I took the job. If I decided I did, then we’d talk about how we’d make that work for us both. And by that I meant in a way that didn’t disrupt Hallie’s career or the life she wanted in the city she wanted.

“Fuck,” I repeated.

I knew there were event companies in Houston. It wasn’t the same as New York though, and her parents were here, and she was just starting to have a better relationship with them. In fact, I was meeting her parents separately for the first time this coming weekend.

We’d never discussed whether Hallie wanted to stay anywhere other than New York. She wanted to travel, but that wasn’t the same thing. Was she tied to this place too much to live somewhere else for a few years? Maybe more than a few years?

As for traveling, if I took this job at NASA, I couldn’t take Hallie on the summer backpacking trip we were planning next year. The thought of disappointing her sat like a brick in my gut. Then again, she might see starting over in a new city, in a new state, as an adventure.

The only way to know was to talk to her, and to talk to her, I had to decide about whether I wanted this job.

My apartment buzzer sounded, and I got up to answer it. My head pounded with all the overthinking. “Yeah?” I asked.

“It’s your father.”

Surprised, I pressed the button to let him into the building and then unlocked my apartment door to wait for him. What the hell was my dad doing here? We’d spoken on the phone once since our confrontation in his office, and it had been as friendly as a conversation with my father could be. It wasn’t a lot, but it was something. I had to admit that the job offer was only part of my preoccupation. Learning about my grandparents’ tragic demise naturally impacted me. I wanted to know more. Though I already knew I wouldn’t learn anything from my father just yet. I hoped that with time, we could work our way up to that.

My father’s footsteps echoed up the stairs, and then he appeared, dressed in his custom three-piece suit. “You need an elevator.”

“Afternoon to you too,” I replied dryly, stepping aside to let him into the apartment.

He nodded at me as he passed, and I studied him as he took in my new place. The sight of a pair of Hallie’s high heels discarded near the coffee table seemed to arrest him for a moment. After a second or two, he flicked me a look. “It’s not Midtown East.”

I sighed, looking around the place. “No, it’s not. But it’s home for now.”

“For now?”

“What are you doing here?” I evaded. “Coffee?”

“I came to ask a favor, and no, thanks. I have a meeting I need to get to.”

He always did. “What favor?”

“I, uh, I know it’s a little last minute, but I wasn’t sure . . .” My father trailed off, his expression uneasy.

I’d never seen him so uncertain, which piqued my curiosity beyond measure. “What is it?”

“Well, there’s this event. In my honor. An award for philanthropy.”

My father was one of life’s contradictions. He made a shit ton of money, he was ruthless, a crappy father, pretty sure he was a shitty husband, and yet not only had he donated millions to charities over the years, but he’d set up a foundation that helped children in the foster system seek higher education.

Admittedly, I often let myself forget about his philanthropy because the actions were so incongruous with the man I knew.

Yet after our enlightening discussion about my grandparents, and my realization he wasn’t ashamed of his roots but clearly heartbroken by anything that reminded him of them, I wondered if I knew my father at all and if anyone would ever really know him.

I wasn’t quite ready to give up trying. “That’s great. Congratulations.”

“Yes, well, I wondered if you might attend with me. I could take a date, but I think you being there would be better.”


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