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When Keith came back later that day without having bagged a single fish, I thought he’d be frustrated. Instead, he was serene and calm. At dinner, he told me how sitting out on the water, waiting for the fish to bite, he’d come to some deep insights about his life.

“Yeah?” I asked, interested. “Like what?”

“Fishing isn’t actually about catching fish,” he said.

“Oh?”

“It’s about thinking and feeling and stuff.”

“Right.”

“Out here, away from mom’s kitchen, I could really think.”

In truth, my mother’s kitchen was very cluttered and noisy. It had something to do with her being a bad housewife and an awful cook. She was always trying to do better, though, buying endless recipe books and reading through all them but never cooking from them. If you asked her, she’d say it was too complicated or the ingredients were too expensive.

But I think she simply didn’t have the energy to try out interesting, nutritiousand tasty meals every single day.

“You going to try again tomorrow?” I asked pointing at the fishing rod.

“Trying is all we have to do. If luck is on our side, we’ll get the fish. If not, tomorrow is another day,” he said.

I lay in bed that night, thinking about Will, missing him. I sent him a text:

Me: Is Brianna comfy in my bed?

Will: I think so

Me: Is she using my fluffy towel?

Will: Nope. I’ve put that one in safekeeping.

Me: Where?

Will: In the safe, between heaps of money and all my stolen diamonds.

Me: Good, as long as it is safe.

After that, I was able to fall asleep, and I am sure I had a smile on my face.

Chapter 18

Will

“When they say fry the garlic, how long for?” I called out to Nikki as I was trying to make dinner.

“That is too long,” she said, looking over my shoulder.

“Damn!” I took the pan off the stove, scraping all of it into the bin. “You always make it look so easy!”

“It is, if you pay attention. You were scrolling on your phone the whole time!”

“I wasn’t!” I said, slipping the phone into my back pocket. Nikki laughed and shook her head.

Right then, Zoë came into the kitchen. “I’m hungry.” She wrinkled her nose. “Something smells bad.”

“Don’t worry, honey, I’m making dinner, it will almost be ready.”

Zoë looked at the blackened pan in my hand and her face clouded over. “I’m hungry now! I don’t want that!”


Tags: Erica Frost Billionaire Romance