Page 30 of David's Chase

It wasn’t like I didn’t want to see Thea.

It was that I found it difficult to go from napping to getting all dressed up and spending my afternoon with my mother, my newlywed cousin, and her friends.

Normally, a newlywed couple would be enjoying their honeymoon at this point, but Thea and Ed aren’t just any kind of couple.

They considered several things when they chose to stay here, the most important of which was their kids.

And then Thea’s school.

I’m happy that we’re all here, but the naughty woman doing naughty things with their family friend––Mr. David Moore––has a mind of her own.

So, to appease her, I promised her I’d get Rain to sign this copy of her bestseller limited edition book.

“Sure,” she says and flips the book open.

She graciously scribbles down a few words.

‘To Liz, my dearest friend,’

L. Carter

“Thank you so much,”I say enthusiastically. “It’s such a beautiful book,” I add, sliding the dust jacket off and admiring the golden embossed letters on the hardcover.

Her eyes also tip to the cover, and a flicker of curiosity flits through her gaze. Her stare stalls on the intricate design as if grasping something invisible to me.

All I see is a golden swirl of leaves and flowers outlining the title of the book.

She thoughtfully brushes her fingers over the design while I wait for her to shift her eyes to me, not knowing what to do.

Eventually, she looks at me with a strange look on her face and hands it back to me.

She manages a faint smile, and trying to crush the awkward silence, I open my mouth and speak.

“I read it several times. I find it fascinating.”

“Really?” she says, averting her eyes, a secret grin on her face.

She gestures me to the table, and we both claim our seats and nurse the glasses of wine in front of us, the rest of the guests still outside.

“What do you like the most about it?” she asks before taking a sip of wine.

“The fact that it’s a brutally honest account of what happened,” I gush. “And it’s not any kind of story.”

Slowly nodding her head, she tips her gaze down with humbleness.

“I was simply lucky,” she says before dragging her gaze back to me, and I get this feeling that she looks at me with different eyes.

She seems intrigued and mystified, and I don’t know why.

“In what way?” I continue, experiencing unusual discomfort.

She leans back in her chair and shrugs, grinning.

“I didn’t know what I was doing…”

Her voice trails off, and I look at her, puzzled.

“Are you talking about the book?”

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