Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
She shut her eyes tight for a second before opening them, blinking a few times as if she was trying not to cry. I almost reached out to take her into my arms—not entirely selflessly—when she nodded curtly and turned away from me. I leaned over the island, wanting so badly for her to come back over to me and tell me about what she was feeling.
At that second, she did turn around, blinking a little again. “You’re gonna need a picture of him.” Without looking at me again, she walked over to the computer terminal at my desk and pulled up my browser, typing in the web address for a Los Angeles law firm called Fringer and Associates. She clicked on the partner page and scrolled down to a photo halfway through the list; the guy there was good-looking in a cookie-cutter way. He reminded me of Jerry Maguire but less wholesome. There was a coldness behind his eyes that made me doubt the possibility of him ever saying, “You complete me.”
“That him?” I asked, going over to stand next to her. The smell of her hair seemed to be coming off her in seductive waves, and I was careful not to let her see me taking a deep breath of her scent.
“Yep.” She turned away from the computer. “You should probably print out one of those to take with you or something.”
“No need,” I said, taking out my phone and typing in the web address. I didn’t want to have a printout of that asshole’s face sitting in my pocket when I could just easily have a tab on my phone’s browser that I could close, and more than that, I didn’t want it around my house, triggering her and making her feel vulnerable.
I tucked my phone back into my pocket and smiled at her. “Ready to go?”
She set off down the hallway, a new light filling her eyes. “Let me just change my shoes.”
As I drove around the Ridge in my truck, keeping an eye out for any new faces, I thought about how quickly I adjusted to this a new normal. After so many years of staying alone in the cabin, keeping everyone at arm’s length like the plague except for Bucky for company, I was having a hard time settling into myself as I thought of Macy alone in the cabin, without me. She’d promised that she wouldn’t leave the house itself, saying that if Bucky got restless, she would stay in the backyard to throw his ball for him, but it still made me nervous.
On our hike we’d actually talked. I’d asked her more about her art, and she’d told me about art school. She tried to describe her style to me, but since I had the worst visual imagination in the world, I just didn’t really get it.
“If I had my old phone, I could show you,” she said, giving me a sad smile. “But I even deactivated my Instagram when I left home.”
“I haven’t had an Instagram in seven years,” I said, shrugging.
“That tracks with your hermit self,” she said, laughing.
It had physically hard to keep from touching her when I’d dropped her off back at the cabin, but I knew that she probably needed at least a little bit of a break from me at this point. It had been a long couple of days together, and it was a small enough space that we were very aware of each other.
I was very aware of her, and I wanted to continue making her feel at home.
I shook my head as I drove to the little café around the corner from Macy’s apartment where Alex’s voicemail had said that he would be waiting for her. Being that it had been several days, he probably wasn’t there anymore, but at least I could go in, talk to the staff, show his picture around, and see whether anyone had seen him. The owner Maria wasn’t someone I knew well, but she was a sweet lady I’d seen around town once or twice, and Macy had mentioned talking to her a few times. She could be a good ally. At least, that had been my plan when I parked on the street and walked into the café, trying to seem as casual as possible.
It turned out to be a good thing that I’d been affecting such a cool attitude because I hadn’t expected to see a familiar smug face sitting at a table near the entrance of the shop as soon as I walked in. My stomach sank as soon as I saw him, that face so horribly and instantly recognizable as he looked up from the laptop screen in front of him. He looked at me with a hungry expression that sent nausea coursing through me. At the same time, though, I was satisfied when I saw his face fall a second later, and I walked up to the counter to order a cup of coffee.