Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 109299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Haven and Chris smile and wave like it’s another publicity shot of co-workers, nothing more. I’m sure that’s how PR has coached them, and it’s wise in a world where there’s a camera in every pocket. Everyone’s the paparazzi now.
Daveed and I quickly usher the actors to my car. Once they’re in, we take off.
I check the rearview mirror religiously as I drive. No one seems to be following us. That’s good. Ten minutes later, we arrive at Lavender Bliss. My pulse spikes, and my heart clatters as I park.
Chris and Haven go inside the farmhouse while Daveed waits at the gate, keeping watch. I dart around the back of the cottage, where Ripley can’t see me, and head quietly toward the cottage’s front door. On the way, I steal a glance at the main homestead. Through the kitchen window, I can see the woman I’m madly in love with hugging her sister.
That clattering in my heart? It accelerates.
Once inside the cottage, I shut the door. Just in time—a fifty-pound black-and-white pup charges toward me in excitement. Hudson jumps up and licks my face. He smells a little like satsuma oranges.
“You want to help with my project, boy?”
He whimpers happily in agreement.
I tell him to sit. He complies, and I get to work. I’m nearly done when my phone buzzes with a text from Tyler. He’s following up on my questions about who works for News Site Ink and, by extension, VIP Vibes these days, and he’s found something all right.
50
TABLES TURNED
RIPLEY
Haven seems distracted. But she’s leaving tomorrow, and she’s meeting William back at her room later, so I don’t make a big deal out of her occasionally shifting her gaze around the farm.
As Chris and Vega chat in the kitchen, Haven and I amble past the Hidcote, me carrying the picnic basket and her carting a blanket. The fairy lights welcome us at the entrance to the maze, and we go inside.
“Can you imagine what it’ll be like with school kids here? Trying to find their way out? Laughing, having a blast when they reach dead ends?”
“Like we did when we first explored it.”
“So many years ago.” We were the original lavender maze wanderers. We’ve known its paths for decades, so we head to our favorite spot. Once we settle on the picnic blanket and spread out the food, I’ll ask what she thinks about me talking to Banks and whether maybe I should return with her tonight to her hotel and find him there.
But before we can turn the corner, a voice calls out.
“Haven! Got a second?”
It’s Chris, and when we turn around, he’s jogging into the maze to meet up with us, that warm smile matching his equally warm voice. When he reaches us, he first turns to me. “Thank you again for all your hospitality. I couldn’t have done this without you. It was as profound as I’d expected.”
“My pleasure,” I say.
Then he focuses his attention squarely on Haven. “I was just talking to Vega, as you know, about some of her future projects,” he says. “And I told her I’d love it if she could keep me in mind for the TV show she might be doing with you.”
Haven’s smile is slow and surprised. “Of course. I’d love to work with you again.”
“It would be an honor. Truly.” He shifts again toward me. “Permission to hug?”
“Absolutely,” I say. As he brings me in for a hug, a twig snaps beneath his foot, breaking the silence of the otherwise still night.
He asks the same of Haven, they exchange a hug, and then Chris takes off. As we head deeper into the maze toward our favorite picnic spot, I whisper, “Did he just ask to be on a project with you?”—even though, of course, that’s what he did.
“Yes,” she says, then holds out her arm, the hair on it standing on end. “Pinch me.”
“How the tables have turned,” I say.
A twig snaps again.
That’s when it hits me. That first twig wasn’t under Chris’s foot. It was a few rows of lavender hedge away.
A feeling of unease creeps up my spine. “Haven, we should go,” I say.
I reach into my pocket for mace but come up empty. Right. I’m at home, on the farm, where I’m safe.
Except, I don’t feel safe.
Time to turn around. But when I do, I walk right into a slab of a man instead. He’s holding a camera. His hair is blond and slicked back, and he looks terribly familiar.
He’s the guy who hit on me the night I met Banks. And in a heartbeat, he grabs me and yanks me into a chokehold.
51
MY NEW PARTNER
BANKS
A few minutes ago…
I check the text as Hudson lifts his snout, his ears pricking.
Tyler: Hey. Good thing you checked. There’s some new hotshot photographer who’s working for News Site Ink and anyone he can sell to. His name is Ian Joseph. Used to be a news photographer but lost his job when a lot of pubs went under. He’s upside-down in credit card debt. Now he’s making a living as a studio photographer, but evidently, he supplements his income from time to time with celeb shots. What do you need to know?