“I’m sure he has,” I scoffed out loud.
“Sure he has what?” Sarah asked, and I passed her the phone. She made a dramatic show of fanning her face while Yo leaned in to read as well.
“This guy is good!” Sarah said as another message came through and she passed the phone back to me. I looked down at the screen and must admit I was somewhat disappointed that he was back to being professional again.
Max:So I’ll email you our full itinerary tomorrow.
Leigh:Thanks, that will be great.
Max:I’ll make sure I get that to you first thing in the morning so you have plenty of time to prepare and pack.
Leigh:Looking forward to it, thanks.
Max:Perfect. Have a really good evening. And as always, I loved chatting to you, Leigh.
Leigh:You too, Max.
Oh my God, there was something so seductive and sexy about him typing my name. My name felt as if it held some kind of question and answer all at once.
“What the hell have I gotten myself into?” I asked Sarah and Yo when I’d put my phone down. It was a rhetorical question, though, because I knew exactly what I was getting myself into. “I guess I’m going on location with Maximillian Adam who may or may not own alleged llamas, who can apparently bring someone to orgasm just by looking at them, and makes women faint in the pool,” I said, and we all burst out laughing just as my phone pinged again.
Max:Forgot to ask, can I have a copy of yourIDto book flights?
Leigh:Sure, will send you one. I have a copy on my phone.
Leigh:Oh, and in case you start wondering whether I really am a stalker/psycho, my real name is Ashley Smith. I had to go with Leigh professionally.
I began searching my phone for myID, all the while expecting some witty banter about my name to come back. But it never did. I found myIDand sent it.
Leigh:Here we go. And please don’t judge the picture. I had allergies that day. I swear I don’t look like that in real life.
I pressed send and waited for a response. It didn’t come. Even after my message had gotten two blue ticks and a whole five minutes had passed. Perhaps he really was taken aback by myIDphoto and had now regretted setting up a cheese date with me. Suddenly, it was very important that he didn’t think I looked like myIDphoto in real life.
CHAPTER 11
Max
The second I read that name, a tight feeling coiled round my stomach. It squeezed like a vice. Constricting until I had to sit.That name.
Ashley Smith.
What the hell were the chances? Zero? Less than zero? But still that name brought back memories that I’d been working so hard to forget for so many years. Unfortunately, since returning home, those memories were becoming harder and harder to suppress.
“Ashley Smith. Ash.” I said the name out loud and took notice of the way it rolled off my tongue, the way it felt in my mouth, the way my vocal cords formed so easily around it, as if it was a name I said daily. It wasn’t.Maybe it’s been running through your head daily, though?a part of my brain suggested, and I quickly shut it down. I had become good at shutting that part down. Practice makes perfect, after all. And I’d decided long ago to never listen to that part again. Because that part was home to all the memories and the images of her. Of us. I’d forced the door closed on that part of my mind years ago. Locked the door, nailed it shut, and walked away from it. But when I’d moved back to South Africa, the echo of that name had been everywhere, and it was becoming harder and harder to push it all away. In fact, that name had been on my mind so much lately that it made being physically confronted with it now even more unnerving. As if I’d manifested it in some way. Which I hadn’t. I didn’t believe in such things, but still. It was weird.
The door in my mind cracked open a little more and now memories and images were flooding me. Happy memories, the best memories of my life, but, with those, also the worst memories of my life too.
I cursed out loud and walked to the other end of my room. “Shit.” It always shocked me when I felt like this. I thought I had this under control. But the mere mention of that name clearly still had the power to rattle me. Maybe it was more than just hearing the name, though.
Leigh and I were definitely flirting. And I liked her, probably more than I’d liked anyone in a while, and I didn’t even know her. Maybe that’s why it suddenly felt as if the floor had shifted under my feet. Because these small, fledgling feelings I was having for Leigh were ever so slightly reminiscent of the feelings I’d had for Ashley . . .
My phone delivered another beep. TheID. I raced over to it, the photo that she’d sent was just waiting to be downloaded. All I had to do was tap the arrow on the screen and then, then . . . My finger hovered over the button. Why was I hesitating? A feeling, huge and vast and overwhelming, built inside me. A feeling that I hadn’t felt in forever.
“Fuck it.” I pressed the button and the image crystalized before my eyes, and as soon as it did, my phone slipped through my fingers as if it was suddenly made of melted butter. It fell to the floor, bounced once, twice, the torch turned on, and then it settled. I looked down at it, the light from the torch shinning up at me as if I was in some kind of interrogation room. It felt like I was. Because there were so many questions coming at me right now that I was trying desperately to answer. The first and biggest one being:Had I really just seen that?
Or had I imagined it because I’d wanted to see it? I didn’t know which thought was most terrifying, and I didn’t know why it now felt that picking up my phone and looking at the screen was the hardest task that had ever been laid out in front of me.
I bent down on my haunches and stared at my phone as if waiting for it to do something to me. But when it didn’t, when it simply lay there motionless, I picked it up. I traced my finger over the screen, a large crack running the length of it now. I turned the torch off quickly and then looked at the screen.
