Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 107498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
"Are you ever too old for that?"
"Hmm. I guess not. I've taught you too well." Her voice lifts. Back to hearty. Vivacious even.
But that only makes me think about the possibility she isn't full of life. "Are you really okay?"
"I'm not the one with boy problems."
"Okay, answer this. Are you doing better or worse than just after your heart attack?"
"Better."
My shoulders relax. Then tense. She almost died. It's a low bar.
"You'll tell me if you're there again?" I can't say the words. "If it gets that bad."
"Yes, Kay-bear, of course. Now tell me about the guy. You're making me feel old."
"He wants me. I know he does. But he keeps pretending otherwise."
"How do you know?"
"I just do."
"But do you know? Or do you want it to be true? You wouldn't be the first woman to convince herself of a man's interest."
"No." I turn my phone to speaker so I can check my outfit. "I'm putting you on speaker, Grandma."
"You know I prefer Gigi."
"You know I'm never going to call you Gigi."
I set my cell on my desk. This is outfit four. A plaid skirt and a white blouse. It screams schoolgirl. It screams I'm practically jail bait. It's hot. But it's not what I want.
"I know," I say. "I... I have evidence."
"Yeah? What? He accidentally post it on Facebook or something?"
"Something like that."
"Hmm..."
"What?" I undo the buttons of my blouse and slide it back onto its hanger. "Trust me, Grandma. I know. I have evidence."
"I could help more if you'd tell me the evidence."
And I could help more if she'd tell me the truth about her condition. But I'm not bringing that up. I don't want to fight. "I have it on good authority that he wants me. At least physically."
"Well, of course, Kay. You're a knock out. Every guy you're friends with on Facebook must want you after those pictures Emma posted."
"Grandma—"
"Hey, you got those boobs from your mom and she got them from me. Let me brag. Don't post bikini pics if you don't want attention."
"I didn't. Em did."
"She's a heartbreaker too. So tall and such long legs."
"Yeah. She is." I laugh. Heartbreaker is putting it lightly. "Guys go crazy for her, but she never gets attached."
"Kay-bear, if you want a guy's attention, it's easy. Show off your boobs. It will work. I promise."
I push my skirt off my hips. "But I need more than him wanting me. I need him to admit it."
"Boobs and booze. That's it."
"That's all it takes? Really?"
"Hey, you're the one asking a divorcée for guy advice."
My smile spreads over my cheeks. Grandma has the best sense of humor. She makes the cloudiest day feel bright. Not that there are many cloudy days here. "You promise you're okay?"
"Okay is relative, but I'm not dying anytime soon."
Soon is relative too. But I don't say that. I'd rather believe her. "I have to get ready. There's a party tonight. Emma's brother, you know—"
"Of course I know him. He's fine."
"Him and his friends are buying the tattoo shop."
"Ah."
"What?"
"The timing is interesting."
"Timing of what?"
"You needing guy advice. This guy gonna be at the party?"
I can admit that. "Yeah. But—"
"He have a name?"
"Bye, Grandma. I'll call you soon."
"A push up bra never hurts."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
I end the call.
Maybe she's right.
Maybe showing off my boobs is enough.
It can't hurt.
There. My cream dress, the one Emma made for me, it's perfect.
I slide it on and check my reflection. It hugs my curves. It scoops low enough to show off my chest. It only barely covers my ass.
It's perfect.
I'm not sure exactly what I'm trying to do.
But I'm sure I'm going to drive him out of his head.
I'm going to make it hard for him to pull that I don't want to talk about this, we're friends, we're nothing bullshit.
I take a shaky step into Inked Hearts.
The lights are dim.
The walls are adorned with purple, teal, and hot pink tinsel.
There's even a Welcome Kaylee banner hanging from the wall. It's in Emma's messy scrawl with a drawing—a tattoo mockup—in each of the four corners.
One from each of the guys. I recognize their styles.
It's...
I blink back a tear.
Emma bounces out from behind the desk. "Surprise. Sort of." She throws her arms around me. "I really am glad you're here."
"Me too." I hug her back. Emma is the best. This would be impossible without her.
"Didn't you throw her a party last week?" Dean moves out from his suite.
"It was her birthday." Emma steps aside. "This is different. And it's for you too. It's so cool that you're buying the shop." She turns to me. "You should have seen that meeting. Dean actually wore slacks."
"Really?" That's hard to believe.
"Don't worry. I don't mind you picturing me without my jeans." He winks. "All these parties too much fun for you, yet?"
"No. It's sweet." It really is.