Page 45 of Ruled By Fate

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By the time Brie and Cameron wound their way back towards the main restaurant, the doors were just closing as Sherry and a tall gentleman swept inside, giving a name for the reservation.

Sherry looked stunning, all curves in jewel-toned satin, with her hair swept into an elegant chignon reminiscent of Old Hollywood. And her date… seemed strangely familiar.

Brie’s eyes widened in shocked recognition, and she gripped Cameron’s arm in a vice, just as Sherry spotted them and let out a little shriek of delight. A second later, she was waving them over, steering her escort along by her side. He was tall and handsome, with reddish blonde hair and brown eyes, and he carried himself with a posture too erect and symmetrical for a civilian.

Even without the sunglasses, Brie recognized him immediately.

Officer Mitchell.

Chapter Nine: Double Dates and Other Disasters

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“Cameron,” she hissed frantically. “Change of plan.”

He looked at her in confusion. “What do you…?” Then he followed her gaze and swallowed hard.

“Is he going to remember us?”

“I don’t know.” Despite the steadiness of his voice, his lovely face was several shades paler than usual, and those drumming fingers had gone still. “I’ve never done that before. I mean, I’ve never done that and then run into the person again.” He paused. “What’s the new plan?”

“I’m throwing myself into the sea.”

The two exchanged an awkward glance before she offered the only thing she could manage. “Improvise.”

Easier said than done.

As the couple closed in, her feet stopped working, and her brain shut down, unable to come up with one single feasible lie to explain their previous encounter. She merely held onto Cameron’s arm like a life preserver, pivoting from one crazy idea to the next.

I have an identical twin. So does he.

Sounds like you got hypnotized. You should really look into that.

I have no idea what you’re talking about, and you can’t prove anything.

Please excuse me, I forgot I have a previous engagement and am very late for my appointment to permanently move to Venezuela.

Good options were in short supply.

“You made it!” Sherry scooped her into a hug, air-kissed both of her cheeks, then held her at arm’s length as Brie plastered a delighted look on her face and tried very hard not to swallow her tongue.

“You look glorious, love. That dress! Don’t lose this one,” she added, eyes flashing with a hint of warning before turning back to her companion. “Brie, I want you to meet Mike. Mike, this is Brianna Weldon, my best friend in the world.”

Brie’s knees were shaking, and she was still wondering about Venezuela’s extradition laws when Mike stepped forward and warmly took her hand.

“Mike Mitchell. It’s a real pleasure to meet you.” His voice was friendly — lilting, with a slight Southern drawl. “Sherry talks about you constantly. It almost feels like we’ve met before.”

At this, Brie let out a strange, yelping laugh that she immediately regretted and shook his hand, hyperaware that she’d ranted about bears and gummy worms the last time they’d met.

“I’ve heard so much about you, too,” she exclaimed in reply. “Yeah, almost! It almost feels like that. But of course, we haven’t because how could we? Right?” She let out another high, weird laugh and consciously forced herself to shut up and stop shaking his hand.

What an inconvenient time to be having a full stroke.

Sherry was amused. “Looks like someone decided to pre-party a little bit. Well, who could blame you after the day you’ve had?” She gestured to the angel at her side. “Mike, this is Cameron, Brie’s backcountry savior and the possible reincarnation of Rudolph Valentino I was telling you about.”

The two men shook briefly, but Mike lingered, staring with a peculiar expression.

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