Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Without thinking about what I’m doing, I click on the comment bubble and type: Guess this is why you were nervous on the phone…try not to break anything else before I get home ;) Then I exit out of the app and focus my attention on the nail tech who is now painting my toenails a cute shade of pink.
I’m lounging on the terrace with a glass of wine in my hand, enjoying the cool breeze coming off the ocean. Our room is directly on the beach and overlooks the water. We returned to our room about an hour ago after spending the day getting pampered. After taking a quick shower and throwing on a pair of comfy pajamas, I poured myself a glass of white wine and came out here to listen to the waves.
I think back to earlier. When we finished with our pedicures, the woman running the front desk handed us our itinerary for the day so we’d know where we’d be heading next. I damn near had a heart attack when I saw all the services we were scheduled for: mud wrap, spa massage, manicure, lunch, facial, waxing. There was no way I could afford everything on that list. I mean, technically I could. I’m good at saving. But I try really hard not to spend my money frivolously.
I didn’t fully understand how expensive everything was until I was on my own. Richard used to handle all of it. He’s controlling in that way. He would give me an allowance for groceries and extras and if I needed more, I’d have to ask. It’s scary being on my own, paying my own bills, but I’m handling it.
So, when she gave us our itinerary, I asked for a price list and told her I’d let her know what I’m going to do. She gave me a confused look and told me it was already all paid for. When I asked Bridget if this was Simon’s doing, she said if it was, she wasn’t told. I asked the woman to find out who paid. I was shocked and in awe when she returned and told me the credit card name on file is Landon Maxwell. I don’t know how he even did that, and while I hate the thought of him paying for all this, it was beyond sweet and I’m not going to bitch at him for trying to do something nice.
“Hey, Harp, it looks like your phone is blowing up,” Bridget says, stepping out to join me with my phone in her hand.
“Thanks.” I swipe up my screen and find I have hundreds of notifications. What the hell? Friend requests from people I don’t know on my Instagram and Facebook are the first thing I notice. When I click on Instagram, five hundred and thirty comments pop up on my notifications. I click on one and it takes me to Landon’s post. Oh no! I didn’t think about it when I commented, but I should’ve. He has millions of followers, and my dumb ass commented about him being at my house like I was private messaging him. His reply is the first one I see: Don’t worry, babe. The house will be in one piece…The neighbor’s house, though, is another story.
I scroll through the rest of the replies. People asking if I’m his girlfriend, his wife, the mother of his kids… They’re all speculating. A couple comments mention I’m a mom of two kids and a nobody. Ouch! That hurts.
“What’s wrong?” Bridget asks, sitting next to me and looking over my shoulder. “Oh…” she says when she sees what I’m looking at. While some people are saying I’m pretty, others are saying quite the opposite. “Don’t let them get to you.” She plucks my phone out of my hand. “They’re just jealous women who don’t even stand a chance at speaking to Landon in person, let alone dating him.”
“I know.” I shrug. “It just reminds me of how different our lives are.” I know I’m not ugly, but I’m definitely different than all the women he’s dated in the past. He’s said they didn’t mean anything and that they were set up by his PR team, but you can’t deny he has a type—and I’m nothing like his type. Whereas they’re all tall and blond and busty with fake… well, everything, I’m short with brown hair and all real, too real, everything—including my stretch marks on my stomach and hips that will be a part of me until I die.
“You know he loves you, right?” she says.
“Yeah, I know.” And I do know. Landon goes out of his way every day to show me how much he loves me. But I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t occasionally have insecurities and self-doubts, especially after seeing all the hot women who would give anything to be with him. Women who come without strings…