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“During the filming,” Elise continued. “He worked for the staging company. I keep reading these journal entries, where she talks about falling in love with him. They’re frankly overwhelming.”

“So. You think he’s still around here?” Wayne asked.

Elise shrugged. “I don’t know. I only have a name.”

“What is it? Maybe I know him.”

“You’re making fun of me,” Elise said, rolling her eyes. “I know it’s unlikely that he’s even still around anymore. It was a long time ago. I get that.”

“Come on. Just say his name aloud. Maybe something magical will happen,” Wayne said.

Maybe he wasn’t teasing her after all.

It was really difficult to tell.

“Fine. My father’s name is Dean. Dean Swartz. Happy now?”

At that moment, Marcy stood at the table beside them with a rag in her hand. She paused and blinked at Elise. She looked like a deer in the headlights.

“What did you say about Dean Swartz?”

Elise arched her brow in confusion. “Um...”

“You said your father’s name is Dean Swartz?” Marcy asked.

“I um. I’m not really sure. I just know that...”

“Don’t worry about it, Marcy. Keep wiping down that table,” Wayne said, teasing her. “You got more customers in here than you know what to do with. Don’t worry about some gossip you can’t handle.”

Marcy cackled and rolled her eyes. “Thanks for keeping me in line, Wayne.”

But the whole interaction left a strange feeling in the pit of Elise’s stomach. She blinked down at her half-drank glass of wine. A small voice in the back of her skull demanded,What the heck was that?

She acted strangely until she and Wayne finished their drinks and cut back onto the street. Now, it was nearly midnight, and Elise felt rattled. This wasn’t exactly her idea of bedtime. Silence fell between them. She glanced up toward Wayne and again felt mesmerized by his handsomeness; by the way, the moonstruck his cheeks and caught the bright blue of his eyes.

“Listen,” Wayne said. “Thank you for telling me your secret. But you’re right. You really should keep that news to yourself.”

Elise arched her brow. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just that not everyone will like it,” he said.

“Not everyone will like it?” Elise could hardly fathom the meaning behind his words. “I’m sorry. I’m so confused.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just—hmm. How should I say this? I don’t know. Enjoy Mackinac Island. Do as much as you can while you’re here. And... I don’t know. Just keep this news to yourself, for now, okay? I’ll think about what you should do. Leave it up to me.”

Elise chuckled. “You know you’re being insanely vague, right?”

“Just. Google him, I guess,” Wayne said.

“I was a little too afraid to do it earlier,” Elise said. “I didn’t want to discover that he was dead or something. I wanted the magic to stay alive.”

“He’s alive, all right,” Wayne replied. “I just don’t know if you’ll like what you see.”

Elise and Wayne stood before the Willow Grove Guest House. Elise’s thoughts ran amok. At moments, she was fearful, sad, erratic—after all, she had discovered the potential name of her father and, at the same time, discovered that he might not be who she wanted him to be. On the other side of the spectrum, her lips ached for Wayne to kiss her. She had never wanted anyone on the planet to kiss her more than she wanted this.

But he took a step back.

The step back felt like a punch to the gut.

Are Midwestern guys harder to read?

“Good night, Elise,” Wayne said. “I hope I’ll see you soon.”

“I hope so, too,” Elise said.

Elise stood at the steps to her BnB and watched as Wayne turned back toward the other end of Main Street and disappeared into the night. Where was he off to? What was he hiding? And why had their night soured, all as a result of the nameDean Swartz?

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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