Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
So why do I feel so crummy?
“Now taste this.” Annika offers me her cup of punch. It’s sweeter than I like, but I take a sip anyway. “Now come this way,” my bossy ex-girlfriend insists, clamping her manicured hand over my wrist. “We’re going to play badminton.”
I laugh, because Annika isn’t a fan of sports. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yeah, I do. I’m tired of seeing that mopey look on your face. Just be gentle.” She disposes of our food and drinks, and then hands me a racquet.
I duck under the net to take up a position.
“Oh no, you don’t. Your spot is over here.” She points at the opposite side of the net, the one where I won’t be able to watch for the tram.
Yup, she’s got my number.
“Besides, if I let you take that side, you’ll play distracted. You’ll get whacked in the forehead with a birdie, and the guys will call you Cyclops.”
I laugh again, and it’s not hard to figure out why I spent so much time with Annika. Maybe she and I aren’t sexually compatible anymore, but she’s a great friend.
“Heads up, Hayworth,” she says as she serves.
I return the birdie, nice and easy, and soon we have a nice volley going. I play each return trying not to get her out, but rather to keep the birdie in play. I’m sure she can tell that I’m taking it easy on her. But she tries to ace me anyway.
And then she succeeds. I hear the sound of the tram approaching, and I miss the next shot.
Annika falls to her knees in the sand, like Serena declaring a Wimbledon victory. I move to turn around and she barks at me, “No, Hayworth! Stay with me! Don’t go toward the light!” She stands up and peers toward the tram herself. She gives a single shake of her head that dashes my hopes.
I’m just a guy, standing on a beach in nothing but his favorite pair of lobster shorts, waiting for the right man to love me.
“Your serve,” Annika says cheerfully.
We go back to our game, and I allow myself to be distracted. “I get next game!” calls Henry, Annika’s younger brother.
“Sure, pal.” I bounce the birdie back to Annika, enjoying the sun on my face. It’s winter in Chile, so the summer temperatures are a balm on my soul.
When I hear the tram again, I don’t turn around. I hit the birdie over the net.
Annika makes a little squeak of surprise, though, and returns it to me sloppily. I miss my next shot because I’m already turning around.
A guy has just stepped off the tram. His dark hair shines in the sun. Wearing mirrored sunglasses, a polo shirt and khaki trunks, he surveys the crowd a little uncertainly.
“Luke!” Annika yells.
He turns his handsome face in our direction.
That’s when Jim, a dude from the finance division, steps up to him, slapping him on the back, then shaking his hand.
I see Luke’s eyes dart toward me, then back to Jim. Luke can’t be rude. He probably reports to Jim at work. He’s drawn into a conversation.
“Oh, crap,” Annika says. “We could rescue him.”
“No, it’s okay,” I say, tossing my racquet to Henry. “I’m patient. And I don’t want to make a scene.”
Luke doesn’t need that, either. He’s surrounded by guys from Hayworth Pharma now. And even though I’m impatient, it’s cool to see how many people he knows. Someone hands him a beer. Bo, the CFO, steps in and introduces him to several more people.
I wait.
“This is so romantic,” Annika whispers beside me. “He’s almost free. Except...darn it!”
Now Luke is captured by Marcy, Bo’s secretary. She is clearly smitten. She pats his arm and pinches his cheek. When she hugs him, Luke looks right over her shoulder at me. Oh my God, he mouths.
I let out a bark of laughter, and Annika covers her mouth as she giggles.
“Who is that guy?” Annika’s brother asks, twirling his racquet in his hands.
“He’s my…” I swallow hard. “Boyfriend,” I say carefully, hoping its true.
“Realllllly,” Henry says, drawing the word out, sounding stunned.
I hope it’s true, anyway. Would he come to this party after that ultimatum I gave him and then reject me?
Either way, I’m about to find out. He disentangles himself from Marcy and begins crossing the sand. I tense as he waves to a couple more guys, but he manages not to get drawn in.
My God, he’s handsome. I’m rooted in the sand, just dazzled all over again by his square-shouldered swagger. I don’t come unstuck until he reaches up and pulls those sunglasses off, revealing a vulnerable expression. “Hi, Lobsterman,” he says quietly. “Somebody told me that missing this party would be a huge mistake.”
“It’s true,” I say, my throat constricting. “It would be a damned shame.”
And I don’t even know who moves first. But he’s in my arms a heartbeat later. Our hug happens so fast that it sloshes his beer. He holds it out to the side and laughs as his free hand wraps around my lower back.