Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
I roll my eyes, used to his putdowns. Only Richard’s worry would be messing up his precious hands. Never mind the fact I could’ve fallen and busted my face open.
“Hey, Dad!” Ella exclaims, running into Richard’s arms.
Hunter follows behind, not half as enthused as his sister. “Ella and I have camp at eight,” he says. “You need to make sure we’re on time.”
Richard frowns. “I already said I was sorry about yesterday.”
“Well, maybe instead of having your fiancée of the month take us, you should take us yourself.”
“Hunter,” I warn. I understand his frustrations, but he’s still a child, and he still needs to be respectful toward his father.
“What? It’s the truth. Dad left us with her to go to work early and she took forever to get ready and made us both late.”
“I get that, but you don’t get to speak to your father that way.” Sometimes creating a united front really sucks.
“Are you taking us or is she?” Hunter asks.
“I’ll make sure she gets you there on time,” Richard says.
“I think I’ll just stay with Mom,” Hunter challenges.
“Like hell—” Richard begins, but I quickly cut him off, needing to defuse this situation.
“You’re going with your dad,” I tell Hunter. Then to both of the kids, I say, “Please go wait in your dad’s car so I can talk to him for a second.”
Ella hugs me goodbye then skips off, while Hunter grumbles something under his breath, kisses my cheek, then stalks to the car. Yep, he’s no longer a baby.
“So, what, you’re teaming up with our kids against me?” Richard accuses. Not wanting this to turn into a shouting match, I take a calming breath before I speak.
“No, I would never talk badly about you to our kids. He’s about to be thirteen and he sees what you’re doing. You know baseball is his life, and he was late. He’s mad. Can you please make sure he’s on time?”
“Sure,” Richard says, sarcasm dripping from every letter. “Let me cancel my surgeries, which pay for that camp so I can make sure our spoiled son is there on time.”
I laugh dryly. “One, that camp was free. It’s funded by donations made from Major League players. And two, a child who is craving his father’s time and attention isn’t spoiled. What would make him spoiled is the brand-new cell phone you bought him when you missed his seventh grade graduation, or the new PlayStation you got him when you promised to be at his playoff game and missed it.”
“All right, Harper, I gotta go,” Richard says. “By the way, I’m not going to be able to take the kids this weekend. Samantha is complaining I work too much and wants a romantic weekend away.”
I stifle my laugh. Good luck, sweetheart. His job comes first, and one romantic weekend away isn’t going to change that.
“This is your weekend with the kids,” I point out. “And didn’t you just go away with her for that medical conference?”
“I know, but I can’t do it all,” he says, raising his voice. “She booked the hotel and didn’t realize it’s my weekend. And that weekend away was business.”
“I warned you what would happen if you didn’t take them.” I cross my arms over my chest defensively.
“Oh, give me a fucking break,” Richard hisses. “I’ll take them next weekend.”
“No, I have plans this weekend.”
Richard scoffs. “Doing what? Painting?”
“No, I have a date,” I blurt out. Simon had texted me back that my blind date could do Friday night. As much as I’d like to cancel, it’s not going to be because of my ex-husband.
His eyes widen in shock, and I mentally give myself a high five. “With who?”
“Not your concern,” I say, realizing I don’t know the guy’s name. “But it is your weekend, and you will be taking them.”
He opens his mouth to argue, but before he can, I step inside the house and close the door in his face. Damn, that felt good.
Fifteen
Landon
I’m sitting at a small table in the back of Selma’s. When I told Brian I had agreed to go on this blind date, I asked him if he could recommend a restaurant since I’m not familiar with this area. He said Selma’s was the perfect choice. I trusted him. I should’ve known when I had to make a reservation, this place was expensive. It’s not that I’m cheap, but taking a woman to a place like this on a first date can either be construed as being douche-y, like I’m trying to flaunt my money, or if she’s a gold-digger, taking her here will set the caliber high. And the last thing I want is for… What the hell is her name? Shit! I never got her fucking name. Or if I did, I forgot it.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I type out a quick message to Simon to ask him what her name is. Luckily, after she canceled last week, we exchanged numbers. I’m just hitting send when I hear my name being called.