Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“Yep,” Dylan confirms.
“Is she married? Have kids?”
“I didn’t tell him to find anything out. I have a phone number and address. I’ll text it to you. I think if you want to know about her it’s best if you find out from her yourself.”
“You’re right,” I agree. “I’ll give her a call and see if she’s up to meet with me. I can even visit Mom and Dad while I’m there.”
“Good idea,” he says. “Are you going alone?” He knows Giselle and I are dating. I didn’t tell him about her old job as an escort, but he knows things are serious between us. I try to imagine flying to North Carolina by myself, but I can’t picture it. I’d love to introduce her to my parents and show her where I grew up.
“I’m going to ask Giselle to go with me.”
“All right, cool. Let me know if you need anything. Don’t forget your niece’s birthday is next weekend.”
“I won’t. I’ll talk to you later.”
We hang up and I text Giselle: Dinner tonight? I can pick you up from work.
She responds immediately: Can’t. I’m sorry. Working late. Rain check?
Shoving my phone into my pocket, I head out to the main lobby of Forbidden Ink. This is the third time this week she’s asked for a rain check because of work. My only thought is that maybe because of the lack of paycheck from A Touch of Class, she’s asked for more hours at Fresh Designs. I hate to think she’s struggling now to make ends meet because of me, but it makes sense. She needed that income and now it’s gone.
“Sorry about that,” I say to Jase. “My brother called. The addition looks amazing.” I slide my card across the counter and he takes it to ring me up.
“No worries.” He hands me the receipt to fill out. “So…uh…have you seen Celeste lately?” My gaze leaves the receipt and lands on Jase. Why the hell is he asking about Celeste? And then I remember the night of Giselle’s birthday and the awkward as fuck vibes Jase and Celeste gave off…
“Here and there…I think she said something about Paris.” I shrug. He nods, trying to appear nonchalant but his eyes are darting all over the place like he’s nervous.
“You don’t like her, do you?” I’m well aware I sound like a gossipy teenage girl.
“Nah.” He shakes his head emphatically and clears his throat.
“You sure?” I ask while I fill out the tip and sign my name.
“Yeah, man. The last time I saw her she left a bit pissed, and I was just wondering how she’s doing. Forget I asked.” He takes the receipt from me and hands me back my card.
And that’s when I remember something. “You know Celeste…” Jase’s face doesn’t give anything away. “When I was in college, you came to the campus looking for her.” It was a good ten years ago, but now that I’m thinking about it, it was clear that day he not only knew Celeste but was really upset.
“That was a long time ago,” Jase says. “And to be honest, I don’t think I ever knew her.”
“She doesn’t seem to let a lot of people in,” I tell him. A few weeks ago I would’ve told him she’s a gold-digging bitch and to run, but now, after seeing how wrong I was about Giselle, I’m done assuming the worst in every female. Giselle, Olivia, and Nick are good people and all three of them like and care about Celeste, so that has to mean something. “From what Nick’s said over the years, Celeste’s upbringing caused her to keep most people at arm’s length. I don’t know what happened between you two, but I wouldn’t take it personal. Celeste’s sole focus has always been on her career.” I’m not putting her down, but being honest. The woman came from nothing and has made it her life mission to make herself into something, and she’s done just that. If nothing else, Celeste Leblanc is determined.
Jase flinches but doesn’t respond. He extends his hand and we shake. “Thanks for the heads up.”
“Sure thing.”
“Quinn isn’t here right now, but give her a call when you’re ready to set up your next appointment.”
“Sounds good, man.”
I head out and jump into my car. I check my phone and remember I never texted Giselle back. It’s already after six. An idea hits me. She mentioned working late, but she needs to eat. She might be stuck in the office, but I can bring dinner to her. Stopping by the deli, I order us some soups and sandwiches, then drive over to Giselle’s office. When I get to her floor, the place, for the most part, is empty.
“May I help you?” an older woman asks, stepping out of what I assume is her office.