Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
My phone rang again. Then again.
Blake had just tugged my shirt over my head when another call came through. As much as I wanted to ignore it, I couldn’t. Groaning, I shoved away from her. “One second, let me just make sure it’s not my grandma.”
One of my grandma’s friend’s names flashed across the screen. A heavy pit formed in my gut as I pressed the device to my ear. “Hello?”
“Vance, this is Betty. Your grandma’s had a heart attack.”
Chapter Twenty-One
BLAKE
We’d canceled our morning train to Pisa, booked flights from Rome to New York, packed our belongings, and arrived at the Rome airport with just enough time to get through security.
Vance had told me to stay and finish out the trip, but aside from not wanting to do the rest of it without him, I couldn’t let him take a long-haul flight by himself. Not after news like that. No matter how many times he’d assured me he was okay, I knew better. I wouldn’t want to go back alone.
We made our way down the aisle of the plane. When we found our seats, Vance took my carry-on from me. “Give that to me, Frodo Baggins.”
“Okay. It’s one thing to say I have stump-like legs but calling me a hobbit?” I balled my fist and flirtatiously punched him. “Big Bird.”
“Big Bird was a legend.”
I sank to the window seat while he fooled with the carry-ons. Once I got settled, I pulled up the email I’d drafted on my phone while we’d sat in the terminal.
Amanda,
As much as I would love to continue this trip on my own, I would feel like I was cheating the company out of money they could otherwise save.
The agreed-upon assignment had been: How to Travel with Someone You Hate, and without Vance, I have no content to contribute for the remainder of the trip.
Sincerely,
Blake
That email was, of course, complete bullshit. I could have easily turned that trip into a solo journey had I wanted to. I’d saved ten pages of electronic notes on my iPad, all drafted when I’d won the pitch. After all, it had been mine until Vance—or fate—had stepped in. But now…
A loud thud on the floorboard snapped my attention away from the email. Vance bent to pick up my lumpy backpack that had fallen from the overhead. “This is why you don’t buy so many souvenirs.”
“My souvenirs have nothing to do with that bag not fitting.”
“I saw the way you balled up that Mona Lisa apron like a complete neanderthal and then crammed it in there.” When he went to shove the carry-on back into the overhead bin, my gaze drifted to the strip of exposed, taut skin on his stomach. I was pretty sure I found him more attractive every time I looked at him.
Exhaling a heavy breath, he sank to the seat beside me. “I don’t know how you live life like that.”
“It makes it more interesting…”
“Whatever you want to believe.” His hand landed on my thigh as I reached for the back-of-seat screen in front of me. Then he squeezed. “Thank you for coming back with me.”
“Before you thank me, you should know it was a totally selfish decision.”
“Is that a fact?”
“Fact.” I scrolled to the movie selection.
“How would you giving up another week of a paid vacation in Europe be selfish?”
“It’s a work trip. Not vacation. And…” I swallowed, typing Dumb and Dumber into the search bar. Nerves bunched my stomach at the thought of what I wanted to say. And while I typically bit back things like this, I’d decided I might as well go ahead and give away a little piece of my jaded heart to a man who hadn’t even asked for it. “I would selfishly rather spend the next ten hours with you than without you.”
He took my chin in his hand, forcing my gaze to his. “Me too.” And then he kissed me.
The flight landed at JFK International half an hour past our expected arrival time, which meant Vance was cutting it close for his connecting flight.
As soon as we debarked, he kissed me, told me he’d call me when he arrived safely in Alabama, kissed me one more time, then took off, leaving me Vanceless.
I made my way to baggage claim, trying to find the right word to describe the weird feeling settling in my chest. And as the banged-up luggage cycled around the carousel, I finally figured out what it was. I felt unwhole.
Shaking my head, I grabbed my bright-pink suitcase and headed toward the exit, a little disgusted and a little amazed that I was being that girl.
Three feet away from the baggage claim, the back wheel came off.
Seven steps outside of the front door, my worst fear came true when a pigeon flew straight at me, smacking the side of my face before I could duck. Screeching, I dropped my phone, swatting sky rat feathers from my face as the bird flew off unscathed.