Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
It won’t ever be. I’ve burned my bridges—razed them to the ground.
“How do you know this devil, then?” Mortimer slides me an uncomplimentary look that Eve doesn’t see, as a range of emotions flickers across her face and fades. I briefly regret not exploring our backstory better, wondering what she’s thinking. What she might say.
“A long story, then?” Mortimer asks kindly.
“No.” She shakes her head, her smile sweet and her eyes a touch watery as they find mine. “Not really. We haven’t been together long, but I feel like I know him so well. How can I explain this? Well, I guess Oliver rescued me.”
“Really?” The man’s bushy gray brows bounce like aging caterpillars.
“Yes. I don’t know what I would’ve done without him. I just feel like the luckiest girl in the world.” Her cheeks turn a delicious pink from discomfort or embarrassment; it’s hard to tell.
“Well, we really don’t often hear of this side of him.”
“We?” I repeat mildly.
“People of our mutual acquaintance. You haven’t got the best reputation, have you, Deubel?”
“That’s people though, isn’t it?” she says sweetly. “They like to dwell on the negative. Anything else isn’t gossip worthy.”
“Don’t tell me you’re not a fan of gossip,” he says, chortling, and for a minute I think he might consider chucking her chin. “I never met a young lady who didn’t love to hear a snippet of a rival’s personal affairs.”
“That’s not a strictly female pastime,” she says. “If you ask me, men are just as bad.”
“Worse, sometimes,” I put in. “Eve isn’t one for gossip. She doesn’t really have the time.”
“You don’t work for him, do you?” he asks, suddenly looking worried.
Eve smiles. I can see where her thoughts have taken this. Only when I can’t help it. “No, I don’t work for Oliver,” she says with a spark of devilment in her eyes. “We’re friends.”
I gaze at her like a lovesick pup as I rub my thumb back and forth over the ring. “We have a very particular kind of friendship. I have hopes we’ll be very much more one day very soon.”
“Only you haven’t asked yet,” she singsongs.
“You can ask me. You already know my answer.”
“No, no.” Mandy chuckles. “That’s not the way things are done.”
“I know,” I reply. “And I have just the grand gesture in mind.”
For a minute, I think Mandy might be about to begin clapping.
“The problem is,” I murmur confidentially, “pinning Eve down. She has a very demanding day job. And in her spare time, she volunteers her skills.”
“What is it you do, my dear?”
“I’m a veterinarian.” Only I can see her discomfort in the admission.
The old man’s face lights up. I find myself once more wondering if Atherton knew what she did for a living before he asked her out. It wouldn’t be the only reason for his interest—Eve is so much more than convenient—but he must’ve thought he’d struck gold when he discovered she was a vet. Unlike Eve, I don’t wonder if he ever loved her, because I know it would be easy to do so. But love is a choice, and loving Eve is not something I’ve planned for.
“How wonderful!” Mortimer’s gaze is degrees warmer as it meets mine. “Deubel, I insist you bring Eve out to the house.”
And there it is. The bull’s-eye.
EVIE
Lord Bellsand, or Mandy, as he insists, is fascinating. He’s a bit of an old roué, though I get the sense he’s put himself out to pasture. Which is good for Oliver, because if I thought he’d brought me here as bait, he’d find himself in an awkward place. Like explaining to a paramedic why his testicles are lodged under his ears.
Anyhoo, Mandy seems to have lived one hell of a life, and I’m happy to let him chatter. It seems a huge part of my role, if I’m honest.
“Elizabeth Taylor?”
“My lips are sealed.” He makes a show of locking them and throwing away the key.
“Was it the lions, the tigers, or the bears?”
“We don’t have bears, my dear.” Mandy pats my hand where it lies in the crook of his elbow. “We’ve never had bears at Northaby.”
When he offered to escort me to the palace to look at his inclusion in tonight’s exhibit, Oliver was all for it. He said it’d give me time to work my charm on him. Sucks to be Oliver, because it’s worked the other way around. I kind of love Mandy already.
“I had hoped to introduce them to the park at some point, because my heart does ache at the barbarous conditions bears are kept in in some countries. Circuses and cages. And don’t get me started on them being farmed for—” He halts and sucks in a deep breath. “Excuse me. I’ll just put away my soapbox.”
We are kindred spirits, Mandy and me. He’s my mister from another sister, and we sing from the same song sheet. “I’m with you on all of that, Mandy. As you can probably guess, the topic of animal rights is very close to my heart.”