Dear Rory,
I'm sorry about what I said.
I'm leaving for LA in two days.
Can we talk before then, please?
We can just drive around as usual.
I don't know how to do this if
you're upset with me.
Call me please. I'm staying at my
parents' house...
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When we get back to town, it's late enough to grab some dinner. Pierre tells me about this really good restaurant nearby that he swears makes the best tiramisu he's ever had. I tag along only because I'm still slightly tipsy and very hungry.
As we're walking away from the bus, I see Taylor a few feet away walking in the opposite direction. Joe has his arm around her waist and though it seems as though he's apologised, Taylor's shoulders appear stiff.
I'm not sure if she's sensed me staring or if something else has caught her attention, but she turns around and our gazes meet. I don't try to pretend to be looking somewhere else. She pulls her lips up in a ghost of a smile before turning back around.
"Okay, I think it's this way," Pierre's voice brings my attention back. He's pointing down a cobblestone street ahead with one hand, holding his waist with the other.
"Let's try it then," I say with a shrug.
"Worst case, we get lost," he agrees and starts walking in the direction he pointed in.
"No, worst case you end up being a serial killer and lead me to my death, but I'd like to give you the benefit of the doubt," I say. He turns to me, feigning hurt and I grin crookedly. "What? We did just meet."
"Hmm, you're right. We did just meet, and maybe you're the serial killer."
"Or better yet, we're both secretly serial killers planning the other's murder," I say, making him stop and gasp softly.
"That is such a good plot for a story," he says at the same time as I ask, "should that be the plot of my next book?"
"Add a bit of romance in there, keep it light and funny, and I think you've got yourself a best seller!" He says as he continues walking.
"I've already got myself three best sellers," I say with a sheepish smile.
Sure enough, he does lead me inside a restaurant and we have to wait a little before we're seated. As soon as we are, he leans over the table toward me.
"Okay, I did google your name when you left me alone before. I couldn't find any novels. Only articles you've written for Odyssey, which is amazing, by the way! I get every monthly issue!" He admits.
"That's because they're... they're not published under my name," I confess, flicking through the menu. "I used a pseudonym."
He raises his eyebrows, the revelations getting juicier now. "Okay... will you tell me or will I have to investigate on the internet to find out because I am so curious right now?"
I grimace. "I mean... I'm not all that anonymous. You'll find a picture or two of me at a book signing somewhere. It's like a secret that's not really a secret."
