Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
The rocking chair was a little closer to the door than I thought it had been. It looked almost like someone had pushed it aside to get to the end of the porch. Feeling a little uneasy, I opened the door and went inside. Something was off in there as well. My spider plant, the one I had lovingly placed on the edge of the island, was now sitting on a stool. One of the throw pillows I had bought in town had been flipped over, its cheerful pattern now hidden by the couch.
With a sinking feeling, I raced into my bedroom but found nothing amiss. Nothing had been stolen or broken, but I was sure someone had been inside. I called the landlord and waited impatiently while the phone rang.
“Hello?” he answered finally.
“Hi, this is Lindsey Parker,” I identified myself. “I’m renting a cabin off of Miller Road.”
“Yes?” he asked, as if bored already.
“Has someone been in my house?” I fought to keep the panic from my voice.
“Oh, yes,” he suddenly remembered. “I showed it to a potential buyer.”
My heart stopped. This was so much worse than an intruder. “What do you mean?” I choked out. “You said it was rent-to-own.”
“The buyer has cash,” the landlord said, not sugarcoating it.
“Well, I can make double payments,” I sputtered.
There was silence on the other end of the line. “Let me get back to you,” he said finally.
I hung up the phone and stared at it for a long moment, not sure what to do. My perfect dream of owning a home had vanished in a single sentence. I had been so sure that I was going to live here for the rest of my life. I had seen myself retired, sitting on the porch, sipping coffee. I had imagined curling up on the sofa to read a book on my days off, taking day-long hikes through the forest where I would pack a sandwich and return to the cabin exhausted by nightfall. My dream life had evaporated around me and disappeared into thin air.
I sat down on the sofa and cried.
5
JASON
“Hey, man, how’s it goin’?” I reached out to grab Dillon’s hand.
“Really good,” Dillon said.
We were at the Lucky Lady again, and the place was packed. They had a live band on a tiny stage in one corner, so small I had overlooked it the previous two times I had been in the joint. They were playing cover songs of hit country music, and some people were dancing. Others were stuffed into the booths, drinking and laughing. At the bar, men and women were flirting, drinking beer, and getting into all kinds of trouble. It looked like a great way to wind down after my first week on the job. Dillon handed me a beer, and we took a seat at the bar.
“What do they have you working on?” Dillon asked. He wasn’t looking around the room to scope out pretty ladies. I had to hand it to his wife—she must be something special. My old friend didn’t show the least bit of interest in any of the women on the dance floor.
While sipping on my beer, I was just getting comfortable, when I saw her. The girl from the grocery store was across the room, dancing with another woman. The two of them leaned forward, and the produce-aisle hottie said something that had the other woman laughing. She was wearing a simple dress that clung to her chest and draped over curvy hips. It grazed her thighs, showing off athletic legs beneath. She wore a pair of high heels like she had been born into them, proud and sensual on the dance floor.
Dillon saw me looking. “Go over and talk to her.”
I hung back. I didn’t have the greatest luck with women, and my last hookup at a bar had led to a miserable ten-year-long marriage. Still, I couldn’t stop sneaking glances at that fox in her black dress. Every other woman in the bar wore a pair of tight blue jeans. She was the only one who had dared to dress up.
I found my own jeans growing tighter as I watched and turned back to the bar reluctantly.
“Why are you being such a wuss?” Dillon asked.
“I don’t know. I mean she’s already looking like she’s having a good time, I wouldn’t want to—”
“Just go over to her and say hello.” He snuck a peek at the object of my affection. “She’s looking over here, man.”
I looked and caught her eye, and just as quickly, she looked away. I watched as she grabbed her friend’s hand and led her to the bar. She leaned over the edge to try to get the bartender’s attention. Dillon gave me a shove.
I groaned. I guess I was really going to do this. I was a little out of practice, approaching girls in bars. What were you supposed to say? I decided to start with the basics.