Read Online Finding North (Naïve Mistakes Series) by Rachel Dunning - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rachel Dunning
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sounded so distant. I'd blown this.
"Look, Conall—"
"My goodness, I thought maybe twenty-one... At a stretch, nineteen. But seventeen ?"
"Yeah..." My hand trembled. "I'm sorry. I —"
"I'm twenty-four."
"Wh—what?"
"I'm twenty-four."
"Bullshit."
"It's true."
"You're lying..."
"My goodness, you are a petulant one, aren't you?"
"I don't know what petulant means."
"That's why they invented the Oxford British Dictionary! Now, are we going to hit the ball back and forth like this or should we go out for a drink?"
Wow. Stunned. "Um, OK, sure. Meet you somewhere?"
"No, I'll pick you up. What's your address?"
I gave it to him.
"Oh, and one more thing, no wine for you. That's illegal!"
"Nuh-uh! Not under certain circumstances!"
"Whatever, Coca Cola."
Twelve ounces of Coke equals one-hundred-and-forty calories. I'll stick with soda water.
"Oh, and Leora?"
"Yes?"
"Dress in something sexy." He hung up.
Damn.
He was good.
CHAPTER SIX
-1-
I texted Kayla.
Leora: Going out with Conall. He's 24 not 30!
No response.
I called.
A man's voice: "Urgh! Oh yeah baby. Oh yeah."
Kayla: "Sweetie...ah! Oh! Ooh! You really have to stop —"
Me: "Shit! Damn it! Sorry!"
I hung up.
As embarrassing as that was, calling in on Kayla's action really seemed to get my engines going. I leaned back against the wall, put my left thigh over my right and squeezed tight. Damn it. What is wrong with me? If I was a guy I'd have hair on my palms.
I decided to keep it in this time. I wanted to be fresh (and frustrated) when I saw Conall. I wouldn't have sex with him. It was too soon. But I'd sure as hell let him do pretty much anything else he wanted to with me!
"Something sexy something sexy," I mumbled to myself as I walked around my cupboard. "Sexy but not slutty," I added. "Sexy sexy..."
The voice of the person I then heard talking from down the stairs made my heart stop, and my stomach go into my throat.
"Honey? Are you here?"
My mom.
I threw on a tee and some shorts. "Coming, mom." I looked at her from the top of the stairs. She looked ragged. Her eyes seemed dark but I think it was an illusion of the light (or a reflection of her state of mind?) She stumbled a bit to the living room.
She'd been drinking, clearly.
"How's work?" I asked.
She fell on a settee. "Oh, sweetie, will you fix me up a brandy? I'm so exhausted."
I went to the bar, poured the brandy. Neat, as she liked it.
"You OK, mom?"
"Sure, sure. Remember Paul, sweetie?"
"Your second husband Paul?"
"Yes, him, you do remember him...?"
It's not like they're popsicle flavors! "Yeah, of course, what about him?"
"Oh," she sighed, blasé, "he's dead."
I dropped the glass. It smashed. Shit .
"Oh, dear, it's no big deal. I mean, it is, but he brought it on himself. He was out doing a drug-deal or something and got into a shit part of town and they...um...shot — Is that brandy coming, honey?"
"Sure..." I fixed up the brandy in a new glass. My stomach churned. Paul. He'd been sweet. Mom and him had only been married two years or so. I was eleven. He was a good guy. Got upset once or twice, but never physical. Needed to grow some balls in my opinion.
Damn. Dead?
But mom was happy with him. He'd been the only guy she married that wasn't worth tens of millions. (Only six or seven...)
"Mom, when did this happen?" I handed her the brandy, then got the mop to clean up the other one.
"Oh, Thursday."
Thursday? "And when did you find out."
"Thursday."
She downed the brandy.
"Mom, have you been drinking since Thursday?"
She nodded forcefully. "Larissa's been covering for me at work. We have nothing that requires my immediate attention for the next week. So..."
"So?"
"Could you get me another one, honey?"
I did. I also scraped up the broken glass and mopped up the mess on the floor.
"Here, take the bottle." I put it on the table in front of her.
"Oh, thank you, sweetie."
My phone buzzed. It buzzed again. Conall Calling . I killed it.
"So, I'm just
"Look, Conall—"
"My goodness, I thought maybe twenty-one... At a stretch, nineteen. But seventeen ?"
"Yeah..." My hand trembled. "I'm sorry. I —"
"I'm twenty-four."
"Wh—what?"
"I'm twenty-four."
"Bullshit."
"It's true."
"You're lying..."
"My goodness, you are a petulant one, aren't you?"
"I don't know what petulant means."
"That's why they invented the Oxford British Dictionary! Now, are we going to hit the ball back and forth like this or should we go out for a drink?"
Wow. Stunned. "Um, OK, sure. Meet you somewhere?"
"No, I'll pick you up. What's your address?"
I gave it to him.
"Oh, and one more thing, no wine for you. That's illegal!"
"Nuh-uh! Not under certain circumstances!"
"Whatever, Coca Cola."
Twelve ounces of Coke equals one-hundred-and-forty calories. I'll stick with soda water.
"Oh, and Leora?"
"Yes?"
"Dress in something sexy." He hung up.
Damn.
He was good.
CHAPTER SIX
-1-
I texted Kayla.
Leora: Going out with Conall. He's 24 not 30!
No response.
I called.
A man's voice: "Urgh! Oh yeah baby. Oh yeah."
Kayla: "Sweetie...ah! Oh! Ooh! You really have to stop —"
Me: "Shit! Damn it! Sorry!"
I hung up.
As embarrassing as that was, calling in on Kayla's action really seemed to get my engines going. I leaned back against the wall, put my left thigh over my right and squeezed tight. Damn it. What is wrong with me? If I was a guy I'd have hair on my palms.
I decided to keep it in this time. I wanted to be fresh (and frustrated) when I saw Conall. I wouldn't have sex with him. It was too soon. But I'd sure as hell let him do pretty much anything else he wanted to with me!
"Something sexy something sexy," I mumbled to myself as I walked around my cupboard. "Sexy but not slutty," I added. "Sexy sexy..."
The voice of the person I then heard talking from down the stairs made my heart stop, and my stomach go into my throat.
"Honey? Are you here?"
My mom.
I threw on a tee and some shorts. "Coming, mom." I looked at her from the top of the stairs. She looked ragged. Her eyes seemed dark but I think it was an illusion of the light (or a reflection of her state of mind?) She stumbled a bit to the living room.
She'd been drinking, clearly.
"How's work?" I asked.
She fell on a settee. "Oh, sweetie, will you fix me up a brandy? I'm so exhausted."
I went to the bar, poured the brandy. Neat, as she liked it.
"You OK, mom?"
"Sure, sure. Remember Paul, sweetie?"
"Your second husband Paul?"
"Yes, him, you do remember him...?"
It's not like they're popsicle flavors! "Yeah, of course, what about him?"
"Oh," she sighed, blasé, "he's dead."
I dropped the glass. It smashed. Shit .
"Oh, dear, it's no big deal. I mean, it is, but he brought it on himself. He was out doing a drug-deal or something and got into a shit part of town and they...um...shot — Is that brandy coming, honey?"
"Sure..." I fixed up the brandy in a new glass. My stomach churned. Paul. He'd been sweet. Mom and him had only been married two years or so. I was eleven. He was a good guy. Got upset once or twice, but never physical. Needed to grow some balls in my opinion.
Damn. Dead?
But mom was happy with him. He'd been the only guy she married that wasn't worth tens of millions. (Only six or seven...)
"Mom, when did this happen?" I handed her the brandy, then got the mop to clean up the other one.
"Oh, Thursday."
Thursday? "And when did you find out."
"Thursday."
She downed the brandy.
"Mom, have you been drinking since Thursday?"
She nodded forcefully. "Larissa's been covering for me at work. We have nothing that requires my immediate attention for the next week. So..."
"So?"
"Could you get me another one, honey?"
I did. I also scraped up the broken glass and mopped up the mess on the floor.
"Here, take the bottle." I put it on the table in front of her.
"Oh, thank you, sweetie."
My phone buzzed. It buzzed again. Conall Calling . I killed it.
"So, I'm just
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