Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
A couple holding hands walks toward us. I see her glance at me and then whisper to her boyfriend, who then looks over at me.
Shit. I knew I couldn’t stay lucky for long.
“Hey,” I say, “let’s follow this trail down here.”
I head between some bushes, dipping so I don’t hit my head on the low-hanging branches of the trees.
“You know this isn’t a trail, right?” he asks from behind me. We get through the bushes and meet another path, parallel to the one we just left.
“Oh,” I say. “I thought this was a cut-through.”
The corners of his full mouth lift, but his eyebrows are pulled together like he’s finding me half-amusing, half-confounding. I can live with that.
“So what’s the story, Adele? Why are you diving into bushes and keeping your sunglasses on in the dark. Are you in witness protection or something?”
I sigh. It’s hard to stay anonymous when you’re engaging with someone for any length of time. I nod sideways, toward the bushes. He seems like a decent guy and it’s not like he knows where I live. And I can’t come back to the park again. I’m about to shock the shit out of someone.
“Stand here.” I position him so he’s facing the path and I’m opposite him, so if anyone was to pass us, they wouldn’t see my face.
“Okay.” He’s acting like I’m a complete lunatic, but he’s going to realize I’ve got everything to hide.
I take off my cap and let my almost white-blonde hair fall out and then I raise my sunglasses to the top of my head.
“You’re…” I wait for recognition to register on his face. “Beautiful.”
I put my cap back on, but leave my hair out and my sunglasses off, watching for his reaction. “Thanks.”
“You’re looking at me like you’re waiting for my head to explode,” he says.
I look away. “No, I just. No, I was—it’s fine. No worries.” I bite back a grin. It’s been a while since I’ve met anyone who didn’t know exactly who they were meeting. Of course, I always introduce myself with my name, but I can tell by their eager smiles and effusive greetings, they know who I am. This guy doesn’t have a clue. And it’s like I can hear choirs singing hallelujah.
He’s not just gorgeous. And charming. And British.
He has no clue who I am.
I don’t think I’ve ever found a man hotter.
He pulls his eyebrows together farther. “Did I miss something?”
“I like you, Beau,” I say. I pat him on the arm, trying not to shiver as I hit hard muscle, and we start to walk.
He smiles. “I like you too, Adele.”
I laugh. I feel bad I’m lying to this guy. “Adele isn’t my real name.”
“Oh, okay,” he says. “You don’t like to give your name out to creeps in coffee shops?”
“Something like that.”
“So are you going to tell me?” he asks. “Or do you want me to guess?”
I can’t stop grinning. I feel like a freak. I can’t remember the last time I smiled so much. “You can guess.”
“Esmerelda,” he says, without skipping a beat. “Or Gertrude. Yes, you look like a Gertrude.”
“Stop,” I say, almost giddy at his silliness. “You’re a terrible guesser.”
He puts his hand to his chest like I’ve cut him to the core. “That hurts.”
I roll my eyes. “My real name is Vivian.” I watch, to see if he starts to connect the dots, but there’s not so much as a glimmer of recognition in his eyes.
“Oh that’s pretty. So much better than Adele.”
I grin and we lock eyes as we walk. “Thanks,” I say. “I appreciate it.”
“But there’s something else, isn’t there?” he asks. “I don’t know what exactly, but I feel maybe your name isn’t Vivian. Or maybe it is and—I’m definitely missing something.”
I shrug, not quite sure how to tell him, or whether I should.
“Come on!” he says. “It’s like I’m not in on the joke. I have four brothers. You’re perpetuating childhood trauma here!”
He’s adorable and sexy and funny and it’s weird I’m thinking a man is even worth speaking to, let alone adorable or sexy or funny. But here I am.
“I’m Vivian Cross,” I stage whisper.
He steps back. “The singer?”
My stomach roils and instantly I hate the fact he now knows who I am. I was enjoying our conversation so much when he thought I was just some girl. “As opposed to…the accountant?”
He laughs. “How did you know that’s my accountant’s name?” We grin at each other, because he’s ridiculous and I kinda like it. “And so the glasses and the cap are a disguise.” And there it is, all the dots joined into a tidy picture.
“Urm, yeah.” Instantly I feel a little awkward. I put my glasses back on and sweep my hair up into my cap, pulling the front down as low as it will go without knocking off my glasses.