Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Chloe bursts out laughing, a warm, genuine sound that makes my heart skip a beat. “That’s insane! I can’t believe you actually experienced that.”
“That’s because I didn’t. I’m kidding,” I admit, laughing loudly. “But it makes for a great story at parties.”
Chloe’s laughter dies down, replaced by a mock scowl. “You had me going there for a minute,” she says, playfully swatting my arm. “I can’t believe I fell for that.”
I grin, enjoying the easy banter between us. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
We fall into an easy conversation, swapping stories about our jobs and lives. I’m careful not to reveal too much, to only share what a casual acquaintance might reveal. But it’s hard when I want to tell her everything, when I want her to know me as well as I know her.
As we continue to talk, I find myself relaxing, forgetting for moments at a time about the circumstances that brought me here. It feels so natural, so right, to be sitting across from her, sharing stories and laughter.
But then I catch sight of my reflection in the window, and reality comes crashing back. I see myself as I truly am—a man living a lie, pretending to be something I’m not. The guilt rises in my throat like bile.
Chloe must sense the shift in my mood. “Everything okay?”
I force a smile. “Yeah, just remembered I have my shift I need to get to. I should probably get going.”
She nods, looking slightly disappointed. “Of course. Well, it was really nice talking to you. Maybe we’ll run into each other here again sometime?”
“Yeah, maybe,” I say, knowing full well I’ll be here every Tuesday, Wednesday, and occasional Friday, like always. “I come here a lot,” I add to make it not so obvious how obsessed I am.
As I stand to leave, Chloe reaches out and touches my arm lightly. “Thanks again for helping Mr. Haven. It’s good to know there are still people like you in the world.”
Her words are like a knife to my heart. If only she knew the truth about me, about why I was really there that day. I mumble a goodbye and hurry out of the cafe, the bell above the door jingling cheerfully behind me.
Outside, I lean against the brick wall, taking deep breaths of the cool morning air. What am I doing? This isn’t me. I’m not this creepy stalker, this liar. I’m a firefighter, for Christ’s sake. Chloe’s right. I am a good person. I am.
But as I start walking to work, I can’t shake the image of Chloe’s smile, the sound of her laugh. I tell myself this is the last time, that I’ll stop coming to the cafe, stop following her.
Okay . . . I’m a liar.
I miss her already.
Chapter Five
Chloe
It takes me a minute to recognize him. It’s not like I wouldn’t be able to spot him in the office setting, but at my house? Standing on my porch? “Tyler?”
He nods, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. “Hey, Chloe. I, uh . . . I hope you don’t mind me dropping by unannounced like this.”
I blink, still processing the sight of the VP of marketing on my doorstep. “How did you know where I lived?”
St. George is nowhere near the office in Manhattan, so there is no way this is a “just in the neighborhood” type of situation.
Tyler’s gaze darts away, and he rubs the back of his neck. “I, uh . . . I may have looked it up the address in your contract. I know that’s probably crossing a line, but I really wanted to talk to you the last time you were in the office, but you rushed out and . . .”
A mixture of curiosity and unease floods in. Tyler and I have always been friendly at work, but we’ve never hung out outside the office. What could be so urgent that he’d track down my home address?
“Is everything okay?” I ask, my brow furrowing with concern.
“Oh yes, everything is fine. It’s just that,” he swallows hard. “well . . . the company holiday party is coming up and I was thinking.”
My stomach tightens. Is he about to ask me out? To the company party, of all places?
“Tyler,” I start, ready to let him down gently, but he holds up a hand.
“I know you don’t really do Christmas and all. Sloane told me why and . . . I’m sorry for that. But well . . .” His face is so red that I can’t tell if it’s from embarrassment or the cold. “I was wondering if you’d like to come with me?” Tyler blurts out, his words tumbling over each other.
The chilly December air nips at my exposed skin, but I barely notice it. My mind is reeling, trying to process Tyler’s unexpected invitation.
“I . . . I don’t know what to say,” I stammer, genuinely caught off guard. It’s true that I’ve avoided the company holiday party ever since my parents—well ever since. The idea of facing all those festive decorations, the forced cheer, makes my chest tighten.