Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
She groaned and sat up. “It’s dark out, Kent.”
“Yes, Captain Obvious. I want to detour, remember?”
Palmer got out of bed, grabbed her outfit for the day, and went into the bathroom. While she showered, Kent went to the Instagram account he’d created for the trip and was surprised to see they had a hundred people following them. He liked and replied to the comments, thanking each of them for their love, support, and recommendations on places to visit.
When Palmer came out of the bathroom, she smiled. “I need coffee.”
“I’ve already ordered it. The delivery driver is one minute away. By the time we get downstairs, it’ll be waiting.”
“God, I could kiss you right now,” she said. They made eye contact and paused. Kent swallowed hard. Was this an invitation? He stood, ready for her to make her move, and then Palmer asked, “What are you looking at on your phone?”
Kent felt foolish. For a second, he thought she was serious when she said she was grateful for the coffee. He cleared his thoughts and showed her the phone. “We have followers now, and they’re leaving comments. The power of hashtags.”
“Let me see.”
He gave her the phone so she could look at the comments. Kent loaded his arms with their luggage, and Palmer held the door, even though she never looked up from the phone.
“How come there are more likes than followers?” she asked as she absentmindedly pressed the button for the elevator.
“Our profile is public, so anyone can see it, especially if one of their friends liked our photo or started following us or if they’re searching under one of the hashtags we’ve used.” They stepped into the elevator, and Palmer pressed the button for the lobby.
“Social media is so weird.”
Kent laughed. The doors opened, and they stepped into the quiet lobby. It was still dark out, and aside from the people who worked in the hotel, no one was around. “It is. How come you don’t use it to look for your family?”
“What would I even do?” she asked him. “Make a post about how a woman who I think is my mother, but I can’t be positive, dropped me off at an orphanage?”
“While I see your point, I think the power of social is a resource that could benefit you. We’re gaining a following. Someone’s going to share and reshare our posts. If you make a heartfelt one about looking for your family, they may see it. You don’t know that they’re not looking for you. I think it’s worth a shot, if you want to try.” They walked toward the exit and then jumped when they heard Kent’s name.
“Mr. Wagner, these are for you,” the clerk said as he motioned at the two coffees.
Before Kent could move, Palmer stepped forward, thanked the clerk, and picked up the paper tray. Kent played it off and headed outside to the Jeep, where the valet held the door open for Palmer. When he got behind the wheel, she handed him his coffee, and then turned her seat warmer on and moved the heat dial to high.
“Take a drink before you drive. It’ll help.”
“Help what?” he asked her.
Palmer laughed and shrugged. “I have no idea, but I thought it sounded good in my head.”
Kent did as she suggested and then set the cup into the holder. “Thank you, Dr. Sinclair.”
While he navigated to the freeway, Palmer turned on the overhead light and wrote in the journal. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” She finished writing, closed the book, and shut the light off.
“Nope,” he said when they took the on-ramp for the interstate. “It’ll be a quick stop,” he said. “And we have to do some walking, but we’re bringing the chair.”
“That’s embarrassing,” she muttered.
He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “I’ll push the damn thing while you walk next to me, but what I want to show you is a bit of a walk, and I don’t want you to overdo it.”
“Fine,” she sighed.
Kent decided he would not tell her he planned to take the chair to Times Square later because he didn’t want to ruin her day, but there was no way Palmer could navigate the crowds. She barely ate and had lost weight, almost to the point where he was going to have to give her nutritional shakes. Something she would for sure frown at, but would be a necessity.
“Are you going to post a photo from yesterday?” Palmer asked.
“We are. It’s our account. Which photo should I post?”
Palmer went through their images and showed Kent which ones she liked, and then she took some pictures of Kent while he drove.
The WELCOME TO RHODE ISLAND sign came into view, and Palmer looked at Kent. “What are we doing here?”
He chuckled. “I’m not telling you. Just believe me when I tell you you’re going to love it, and you’ll thank me later.”