Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“Can we focus on the present and not talk about that?” my father snaps. “Why is it so fucked up?”
“Because I live in Nashville and she lives in Chicago, and I hate that I can’t see her when I want. I hate coming home and she’s not here. I hate that every single time I’m with her, all I do is fall more and more in love with her, and I don’t know if she feels the same. I hate we have so few hours to spend with each other when we finally see each other. I hate I feel so totally fucking helpless, and I have no solution for it.” I look at the four of them, thinking one of them will have the answer to this. But they just look at me, and at one point, I even see Uncle Viktor grimace. “Thanks for all your help,” I bark. “Good talk.”
“What is it you want us to say?” Matthew says. “You both have careers. She’s a fucking ADA. Did you think she could come whenever she wanted?”
“I didn’t think of that, obviously.” I glare at him, and he laughs at me.
I look at my father. “How did you do it?” I ask him. “How did you do this whole long-distance thing?”
“It fucking killed me. I hated every single second of it. But unlike Ryleigh, I was lucky, your mom was able to work from anywhere she wanted unless she had to go meet clients. But she usually did that when she knew I was traveling, so we wouldn’t lose that time together.”
“Great.” I put my head back. “So basically, I’m fucked.”
“Not exactly,” Max chimes in. “There is one thing you can do.” He looks over at Matthew, who closes his eyes.
“Don’t say it,” Viktor says to Max.
“Why?” Max retorts. “Evan did it.” He then turns to me. “You ask to be traded.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ryleigh
I step off the elevator with my coffee in one hand and my phone in the other. “Good morning, Claudia.” I smile at her as she waves at me, picking up the phone that’s ringing.
I walk down the hallway toward my office, looking around to see who else is in. I lean my head to the right, wondering if Kristal is in. Both of us walked out of our offices last night at ten. Both of us dragging our asses, mine especially since I didn’t really sleep two nights before. I was running on caffeine, energy drinks, and peanut M&M’s, and since I’ve been back from that impromptu trip, it’s been balls to the wall. But I filed the brief that I’ve been working on for my big drug case and the trial is in a week. I can check that off my to-do list.
I look forward to getting some much-needed sleep in the next couple of days. My head automatically goes to Stone and the last message he sent me yesterday morning.
SR: Sorry, I had an impromptu visit from my father and uncles. Call me later.
The message ate me up inside. It was so stupid that I was jealous of his family members for being able to spend time with him. Forget the fact the plane ride back home was the most horrible plane ride ever, and I blamed my puffy eyes and nose on allergies when I walked in. I don’t know if anyone believed me, but no one questioned me. I’ve never once since I’ve been here suffered from allergies. But that was my cover story and that’s what I was going with.
Seeing Kristal isn’t in, I walk into my own office, going to my desk, putting down my coffee and my phone, before walking over and shrugging off my jacket. “Good morning.” Kristal dips her head into my office. “I thought for sure you would be at home working.”
“I thought about it, I’m starting trial prep today to get ready for next week. It’s easier to do it here,” I tell her, and she nods at me.
“Wish me luck.” She holds up her fingers, crossing them. “I have a hearing in an hour regarding a motion that I filed and I hope the judge grants it.”
“All the good mojo.” I smile at her as she rushes to her office.
I pick up my phone to call Stone, who answers after three rings and sounds out of breath. “Hey, gorgeous.”
“Hey, are you busy? You want to call me back?” I ask him, turning to look out the window.
“No, I’m just on the bike,” he says. “I have practice in an hour, so I have to get off anyway. How did you sleep?”
“Good,” I reply, instead of saying, “I slept horribly because you weren’t here and I kept thinking about how this whole thing is going to work because you live there and I live here.” “You?”