Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Rosey turns and catches my eye, then heads toward me with the tray of drinks. Juney swoops one up. “Thanks,” she says and heads off, leaving me and Rosey alone in a sea of people.
“Great turnout,” she says. “You must be delighted. Want a beer to celebrate?”
It takes my brain a minute to register what she’s saying. I just can’t stop staring at her. The way her kindness seems to radiate from her, the way her skin gleams and her eyes dance in delight at seeing me.
“Yeah.” I swipe a second beer from her tray. “You look lovely,” I say, because I can’t not say it. Something about Rosey pulls the truth, the most authentic me, out of myself.
“Thank you,” she mumbles and her cheeks pink. “Are we still on for breakfast tomorrow?” She glances around as if she’s checking that no one’s heard about our illicit plans. No one seems to have taken any notice of us. Although there’s no doubt most of Star Falls will have registered the conversation. I’ll get more shit from Juney and Sue next time I see them. All part of the charm of Star Falls.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” I say. I’m not sure why she wants to meet. Maybe it’s just a friendly catch-up. I don’t care. However I get to spend time with Rosey, I’ll take it.
She bites back a smile and the sparkle in her eyes is back. I’d like to think part of it’s about the thought of our breakfast tomorrow.
THIRTY-SIX
Rosey
It’s hours since the party for the people of Star Falls finished. Even longer since I saw Byron. I don’t know if he left early because he got called away on some urgent business, or maybe he was meeting a date. There are a hundred scenarios vying for space in my head, which means I can’t sleep.
I check the time on the clock by my bed. It’s ten minutes before midnight. There are only eight hours until I’m going to be sitting across from Byron at the diner, but it feels like it’s going to take three months for those eight hours to pass.
I don’t know if I can wait.
I sit up in bed. I can’t wait.
There’s a shuttle down to Star Falls that leaves the Club in ten minutes. If I run, I could catch it. I could be down at the cabins in twenty minutes.
I push the covers off and start pulling on some socks. There isn’t enough time to change completely. I’ll just put my coat over my pajamas. I grab a hat, a scarf, my phone, and keys, and I head out.
I exit the staff accommodations and I can see up ahead the bus pull up to the designated spot. No one’s waiting. I hope it doesn’t leave early because no one’s there. It won’t be expecting passengers. There are no late shifts at the moment outside the party, and we all got off hours ago.
I don’t even know if Byron’s in the cabin, but it’s worth a shot. I can’t wait another minute to tell him how I feel. I run to the bus, but it pulls out before I get to it. I race behind it, trying to catch up. The driver must see me in the mirror, because the bus jerks to a halt and the doors hiss as they open.
“Hey,” I say. “Thanks for stopping.”
“I thought this journey would be a waste of time,” he says. “You going into town?”
“I just want to stop by Beth and Mike’s cabins,” I say.
“Sure thing,” he says. “Although they won’t be Beth and Mike’s cabins for much longer.”
“How come? What’s happened?”
“I heard they sold them to the guy who owns this place. Byron Miller, is it?”
The mention of his name sends sparks of electricity dancing over my skin. “He bought them?” I don’t know what it means, if it means anything. Maybe it was just a good investment. But it feels like it means something. Something important.
The lights in the cabin are on when the bus pulls up.
“Do you want me to wait?” the driver asks.
“I’ll be fine. I can Uber back if there’s no one home.”
“Right you are.” He gives me a quick salute and the doors hiss closed. The bus pulls off, leaving me standing in front of Byron’s cabin. But the lights are on in the cabin where I stayed, not Byron’s. Maybe someone else is renting? I climb up Byron’s porch, ready to knock on the door of the darkened cabin, but I pause. I can’t hear any signs of life at all.
What am I doing here?
If I wake him up, he’s going to wonder what the hell I’m doing. We’re due to meet in a little over seven hours. And I’m in my pajamas. It’s not my best look.
I pull out my phone and double-click the get-me-out-of-here also known as Uber app. Just then, there’s a noise over at my old cabin.