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CHAPTER FOUR
Anna chewed her last fingernail down to the quick before she heard the distinctive throaty growl of Skylar’s ‘69 Camaro Z28 outside her front door. Early morning as promised, he was right on time. Hesitant, she pulled back the lacy curtain in the formal living room. Was it too late to refuse the invitation?
All night long she’d paced the floor while listing every conceivable reason for her to stay home. She loved her job. Junior partnerships did not fall from the sky. John Griffin was a fair boss, but he could be unforgiving and hold a grudge. If he ever found out she was lying to him, he would fire her on the spot.
She peeked out the window at Skylar who looked incredibly sexy behind the wheel of a car that matched the blue of his eyes. White stripes curved up the hood’s length. Her younger self would have dated him just for the car. Good thing she’d grown up and changed her priorities.
She left the window to stand in the narrow entry near the staircase. Her gaze settled on the packed suitcase she wished was headed for a tropical location instead of a house filled with people that could tank her career if she got caught. The doorbell rang, and her heart raced. She could feel it pulsing in her throat. At that point, she only had two options: go with him to his family home in Vermont or refuse to get into his sports car.
But then the questions would begin. Monday morning his father would want to know why she hadn’t joined them for Thanksgiving, and her colleagues would wonder why she wasn’t really engaged to Skylar after insisting it was true. Public humiliation wasn’t her idea of fun. Even though she hadn’t created the fake engagement, she had gone along with it. In their eyes, she would be as guilty as Skylar.
The doorbell rang again.
Anna took a deep breath before grabbing her suitcase. In reality, she only had one option. The dye had been cast. If she didn’t go along with Skylar’s plan, there would be consequences. Chin held high, she went to the door and confronted her future head-on.
Neither of them bothered with awkward pleasantries. He took her suitcase to the car while she locked her front door. It was easier to run on empty, no thoughts or emotion to get in the way. She moved like a robot. Within minutes she was sitting beside him stiff as a mannequin, headed out of town. Maybe it was the car, but for some reason she felt like a mixed-up teen running away with the boy her family hated.
They drove the first twenty miles in silence.
Then Skylar spoke. “We need to exchange information, stuff my parents might ask about.”
“Like what?”
“Let’s start with the fun stuff,” he said with a grin. “Lovers. Past relationships. Your first time.”
Her cheeks burned at the thought, and she squirmed in her seat. “That stuff is... private.”
“But you would share it with me if we were getting married, wouldn’t you?” After a weary sigh, he said, “I’ll start. My first time happened when I was seventeen. I know it sounds cliché, but it was prom night. Her name was Laura, and she’s the one that got away. We’d been dating almost two years. I proposed a week later. She turned me down flat, claimed she was just having fun and didn’t want to get serious.”
Anna couldn’t help but wonder if that girl was responsible for Skylar’s die-hard bachelor lifestyle.
He added, “I dated a lot of girls in college, but I didn’t fall in love again until law school.”
The car’s interior plunged into awkward silence. He seemed to be fighting raw emotion. His hands tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. Jaw clenched, he drove a little faster as they reached the Interstate. Traffic was heavy with holiday travelers. It seemed like everyone in Boston was trying to go somewhere else for Thanksgiving.
The back of her throat felt scratchy and weird. She rubbed her neck. Come to think of it, her head was starting to hurt. Maybe she was getting sick. Wouldn’t that be the cherry on top of her unexpected sundae?
“Your turn,” he said.
She blinked. “What?”
“When was your first time?”
Anna shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with the conversation. The last thing she wanted to do was discuss her personal information with someone she didn’t trust. How could she be sure he wouldn’t use it against her later? An idea occurred to her. She opened her purse, removed a five dollar bill, and held it out to him. “Here.”
He did a double-take at the cash in her hand. “What’s that for?”
“I’m putting you on retainer so you can’t divulge anything you learn about me toanyoneoutside of this car.”
“Seriously?” He chuckled. “You aren’t confessing to murder. Are you?”
She sighed. “I don’t like sharing private matters with people I barely know. Just take the money. It will make me feel better if I know you can’t legally discuss me with our colleagues after this is over.”
He pocketed the five.
She sneezed.
The first sneeze was followed by five more in quick succession.
