Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
As she should be.
FIFTEEN
Vida
“I’ll tell you what,” Aunt Peggy says as she heaps a serving of casserole onto Tripp’s plate and hands it to him across the dining room table. “The masseuse was not afraid to work my glutes. He just dug right in there.”
Tripp nudges my ankle beneath the table but somehow keeps a totally straight face.
“Bertram is the best they’ve got at Reserve. I wouldn’t steer you wrong.”
“Well, heck. I wish everyone had the same level of courtesy as you, Tripp,” Peggy says, sending me a pointed look. “If I’d known sooner that we were having company, I’d have done better than chicken casserole and a Doritos appetizer.”
I wince. “Sorry!”
“Everything is lovely, Peggy,” Tripp responds, blasting her with his thousand-watt smile. “I’ve never had a casserole before, so this is a big night for me.”
“Never had casserole?” Peggy is in disbelief.
“Only a cassoulet,” I say, with a heavy French accent.
Tripp raises an eyebrow at me. “Are you calling me a snob, angel?”
I purse my lips. “If the beret fits…”
His gaze slips to my mouth, heating, and I know without a doubt that if my aunt were not sitting four feet away, I would be the meal by now.
This whole situation feels like one of the dreams I have after eating too much spicy food before bed. Tripp Sterling is sitting at my kitchen table with my aunt, and he does not fit with the surroundings whatsoever. He looks like a prince who left the castle to slum it with the commoners. When he pulled up outside in a chauffeured town car and stepped out wearing mirrored sunglasses, holding a bottle of wine, our neighbors actually came out onto their front lawns to stare at him.
But he’s here and he’s amazing.
He didn’t even say anything when Peggy poured his expensive wine into Dixie cups.
I’ve never been surer that I made the right decision today. To let Tripp in. To let him make the gestures he needs to make for me. For us. He trusts me not to take advantage of his generosity, and I trust myself not to do that, either. He’s noticeably more relaxed now that I’ve taken down those barriers. Or made them a little smaller, at least.
I watch him closely as he takes his first bite of casserole.
He chews for a few seconds, stops, and chews some more, his eyes widening.
“Excuse my language, but holy shit, this is so good.”
Peggy clasps her hands together beneath her chin. “Why, thank you! This is actually my sister’s recipe. Vida’s mother. She was a fantastic cook.”
His hand finds my knee beneath the table, and he squeezes. “Was she into astronomy like you, Vida?”
It takes me a moment to swallow completely because I’m so caught off guard. People tend to act strange when my parents are brought up. They change the subject because death makes people uncomfortable. But not Tripp. He asked about my mother.
“No, my love of astronomy came from my father, actually. He worked at NASA. He wanted to be an astronaut.”
“What?” he says around a bite. “NASA? You didn’t tell me that.”
My smile is proud. “He didn’t make it through training because he had a famously weak stomach, so he ended up working in research and development. But the running joke in my family is that he married my mother because her cooking was easier on his stomach than the space program.”
His laughter fills me with contentment. “I’m sure he loved her for more than her cooking. He probably loved her for a million reasons if she was anything like you.”
Overcome, I braid my fingers through his under the table. “Thank you.”
He leans close to me, splitting a glance between me and Peggy. “You think they would be proud you got into Yale?”
My fork clatters onto my plate. “What?”
Peggy jumps to her feet. “What? How?”
“You didn’t make any donations, did you?” I whisper, my heart pressed up behind my jugular. “Tripp?”
He shakes his head adamantly. “I didn’t have to, Vida. I basically shamed them for rejecting an applicant that is five times more qualified than students they accepted, including myself. I strongly suggested they review their protocol because it reeked of bias and cow-towing to the rich. They assured me it had to be an oversight and that they’d be mailing your acceptance tomorrow.” He drinks wine from his Dixie cup, somehow making it look like a Tiffany goblet. “They said student housing is included in your full academic scholarship, but I told them you wouldn’t be needing it, as you’ll be living with me.”
The room spins around me. “F-full academic scholarship?”
His blue eyes twinkle. “That’s right.”
My aunt Peggy grips the edge of the table for purchase, her jaw down by her knees.
“You’re sure? A-and you’re not just saying that and secretly paying my tuition?”
“No.” His tone is serious. “One thing I won’t ever do is lie to you, angel.”