Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 97525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
From the teak shelf by the door, my phone lit up with a notification. I twisted all of the knobs to OFF and selected a towel from the warmer. I picked up the cell, my damp finger dysfunctional on the screen, a few attempts needed before I could unlock and view the message, which was from the private investigator.
He’s with Molly Jenkins now. Panera on 43rd Street.
I quickly texted back.
Ok, let me know if they leave.
I checked the time. 11:04 AM. I was supposed to be having lunch with Brant at noon. Placing the phone on the white marble counter, I moved into the smaller walk-in closet that was off the bathroom. Flipping through the jeans, I selected a dark pair and pulled them out.
43rd Street was a fifteen-minute drive, if I caught the lights and didn’t hit traffic. If I hurried, I could make it there before they left
I dressed quickly, left my hair wet, and took my makeup bag with me. I was in my car within a few minutes, and made it to 43rd without delay, pulling into the shopping center at the same time that Lee's dark green Jeep pulled out. I braked hard, craning my neck to see more of the blonde head in the passenger seat—but then it was careening into traffic and pulling away. My car’s display chimed with a text from the P.I., one that displayed on the interior screen.
They’re leaving. I’m following.
I pulled a U-turn and then was stuck, a minivan taking its sweet time in making the right-hand turn. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel and glanced at the dash clock. 11:28. I shouldn't even be here. If Brant found out … what would I say? How would I explain this? Another text chimed through the car's display. This time, from Jillian.
Brant won’t make lunch. My apologies.
Shocker. The minivan pulled out and I gunned the accelerator and wove through traffic, intent on catching up to Lee's Jeep. It took four blocks, but then I was behind them, his open-air vehicle making my surveillance painfully easy.
He drove like he fucked—with reckless accuracy. He hung one arm out the window and his head was often turned in her direction, every glimpse of her smile a knife in my heart. At one stoplight, he rested a hand on her headrest and leaned over, their mouths meeting for one horrible moment before my hand misbehaved and hit the horn. Her head jerked away, and he looked into the review mirror.
I inhaled, wondering if he would recognize my car. The light changed and any connection—if there was one—was lost as he floored the gas.
I hung back, letting a few cars get between us, and tried to figure out where they were heading. We entered the Belmont area, and, with my luck, they were heading down to Los Angeles, and this would be an overnight trip.
It wasn’t, because just a few miles later they stopped at a park. I drove past the entrance, then circled around to the other side, idling beside a food truck and watching as Lee got out.
He waited for her at the front bumper and held out his hand, hers fitting into it, and they walked toward the lake, a blanket tucked under her arm, a bag slug over her bare shoulders. She was in a bright blue tube dress that showed off her tan, her blonde hair in French braids, cheap white sunglasses perched on her upturned nose. I pulled out the binoculars I'd ordered online and adjusted them, homing in on the couple.
Hello stalking, I’m Layana. Pleased to make your acquaintance.
When she ran, he chased her.
When she napped in the sun, he ran a hand gently through her hair.
When he pulled off his shirt and stretched out to enjoy some rare San Francisco sun, I saw the desire on her face.
He was so different with her than he’d been with me. There was none of that dismissive attitude, no cocky arrogance. With her, he was tender and sweet—a playboy tamed.
It was a problem.
I sat in my car and steamed. My hand grew tired of holding up the binoculars, so I set them on the passenger seat. I growled into a handful of pistachios as I saw hints of what might be love. I finished my bottle of water as he laid down on the blanket and pulled her over to him. She straddled him and I focused the binoculars on them, watching as he ran his hand up the front of her dress and groped her breast, right there in the middle of the park. She laughed and I could hear the faint sound of it, even through the windows and way over here. A deep grumble of thunder sounded, and I glanced up at the sky. To the south, a dark cloud dissected the sky and I looked back to the couple, who was also looking up. They kissed, then she stood and he followed suit.