The Boss Project Read Online Vi Keeland

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 103428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
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I waited a minute, but she didn’t come out again. And since the rain was definitely not letting up, I ran back to my grandmother’s. When I reached the garage, I heard a man yelling from inside Milly’s house. I figured the girl had probably done something wrong and gotten in trouble, so I put my bike back in the garage and minded my own business.

Inside, Grams took one look at me and shook her head. “Boy, you look like a drowned rat. What the heck are you doing playing out in that rain?”

I unzipped my sweatshirt and took out the bag I’d tucked inside to keep dry. “I went to get you the sugar you asked for.”

“You mean your sister’s sugar. She’s the one who wanted it to make rock candy.”

I freaking knew it. I shook my head. “She told me you wanted it.”

Grams chuckled. “Sounds about right. I’m one of eight, and shit flows downhill. I probably would’ve done the same thing to my little brother when we were your age.” Her phone started to ring, so she walked toward where it hung on the wall, motioning to my clothes. “Go get changed, and I’ll make you a snack.”

I was so soaked, I even had to change my damn underwear.

When I came back out, Grams was hanging up the phone. She pulled her raincoat from the coat closet and grabbed her car keys from the key holder that hung near the front door. “I have to run out. You and your sister be good.”

“It’s pouring. Where are you going?”

Grams shook her head. “To help a friend. I’ll explain when I get home.”

“Okay.”

After she left, I made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. When I put the dirty butter knife in the sink, I looked out the window and noticed my grandmother’s hot rod in the neighbor’s driveway. A woman was getting in the passenger side. Grams’s friend Milly walked around the side of the house with her arm wrapped around the girl who’d almost fallen from the treehouse a little while ago. I watched as they all piled in, and then Grams took off, flying down the road.

It was hours later when she came back, and I was half asleep on the couch, watching a poker tournament on TV. She walked over and grabbed the remote, flicking it off.

I sat up. “Is everything alright?”

She sighed. “It is now—for the time being anyway.”

“Did something happen to Milly next door? I saw her getting in your car with some other people.”

“No, Milly’s fine.”

“Oh. When I came back from the store earlier, a girl ran out from Milly’s. She almost cracked her head open climbing into the treehouse in the back when the ladder slipped out from under her.”

“That must’ve been Milly’s youngest granddaughter, Everly.”

“I heard a man yelling, too.”

Grams frowned. “That was her father. He’s a bad man, honey. But he won’t be coming around anymore, at least for a while.”

“Is the girl okay?”

Grams nodded and patted my hand. “She will be.”

I nodded.

“Come on. You’ve been watching that boob tube long enough. I want to show you something I’ve been working on.”

I followed Grams to the kitchen where she unrolled a piece of oak tag paper. Inside were probably a hundred rectangles, all connected with various lines.

“What is that?”

“It’s our family tree. I thought it would be nice to map out our ancestors.”

I shrugged. “For what?”

“To know where we came from, silly. What do you mean, for what?”

She pointed to the top of the chart. “This here would be your great, great, great, great grandfather, Merchant Harrington. He was a tailor.” She lowered her finger down the chart. “He made his daughter’s wedding dress, which was worn by two more generations. I have a picture of it on my computer. Maybe you’ll wind up being a tailor, too.”

I snort-laughed. “Definitely not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m going to be rich.”

“Oh yeah? And how exactly are you going to get rich?”

“Easy. I’m going to play the stock market.”

Grams smiled and returned her attention to her chart. She spent the next hour telling me about every person on it. When she got to the bottom, there were squares under my parents’ names, as well as my and Lydia’s names, and then empty squares next to us.

I pointed to the one next to my name. “What if I don’t get married? Your tree branch will wilt?”

“You’ll get married.” She wagged her finger at me. “I see it in your future.”

I shrugged. “Whatever.”

She mussed my hair. “Why don’t you get some sleep?”

“Alright. Goodnight, Grams.”

• • •

The next morning, the wind woke me up. The rain had stopped, but the spare bedroom window had been left open a crack, causing a loud whistle to squeak through. I got up to shut it and couldn’t fall back asleep. So I went to the kitchen to get some juice. After chugging a full glass, I looked out the window over the sink at the treehouse in Milly’s yard. The ladder I’d put back last night had fallen again. So I went to the garage, got a hammer and some long nails, and walked across to take care of it once and for all.



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