Page 23 of The Good Girl

I settle in with my Kindle and relax. When I feel myself getting sleepy, I get out of the water and dry off. I pull on my PJs and eat some of my fruit, then climb into bed for a few hours of sleep before I have to be at the airport.

Still half asleep when my alarm goes off, I get up, get dressed and check out looking more reanimated than alive. When I arrive at the airport, I grab an overpriced orange juice and a breakfast sandwich and wait bleary eyed for my flight to be called. Once the food kicks in, and I feel somewhat human again, I people watch, imagining what their lives might be like. I spot a bearded man wearing shades in the brightly lit terminal, holding on to an energy drink for dear life.

If he were one of my characters he would be trying to make it to his wedding on time after being dumped, drunk in the middle of nowhere by his best man after a disastrous Batchelor party. The plot twist being he bumps into the woman he loves right at this airport, only she isn’t the woman at the alter for him, but the one who got away. I pull out my note book and jot down the idea as giggle snatches my attention. I look up and see a little girl of maybe four or five running ahead of a harried looking woman, I assume is her mother, hurrying to catch up. The kid plows into my imaginary grooms legs, jolting him out of his day dreams. Hereaches for the kid to stop her from falling before his eyes collide with the mothers who apologizes effusively.

I dip my head and grin as I add to the story bubbling in my brain.

The groom takes one look at the woman and see the one who got away right in front of him like some kind of serendipity, before he remembers he’s about to marry another. He turns away, focusing on the child. A child who has the exact same eyes that he does.

I jump when I hear my flight being called. I shove my notepad and pen back in my bag before I stand up and throw it over my shoulder and walk past the groom and his long-lost love. I can’t help but chuckle when the kid climbs onto his lap and makes herself comfortable much to the surprise of the adults watching her. Dammit, I’m almost sad to leave and miss seeing how this plays out.

Boarding the plane, I stow my bag and get settled in, slipping on my headphones as I wait for the passengers to board. The flight home is nothing like the one to London. The person in the seat beside me is a teenage boy who ignores me, so I end up sleeping most of the way. Even though I sleep on the plane, I can’t wait to get back home to the RV and curl up for a few hours. I’m not sure when I started to think of the RV as home, but I have—and it is.

Once I finally make it out of the airport, I have to push my way through the crowds of people waiting for their loved ones so I can get my case and not pout over the fact that there is nobody missing me but Amity, assuming G hasn’t kept her too distracted with his star-spangled dick. Once I locate my case, I grab it and head out to my car, throwing the case and my bag in the trunk before heading to the movie set. But when I pull up and see the police, I realize something’s wrong, and whatever it is, it’s bad.

I jump out of the car and grab the first person I can find. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“One of the stunt crew got hurt.”

“What? Who? How?” I ask, my heart racing.

“I don’t know much. I just know it was the girl. I think her name’s Amy.”

“Amity?”

“That’s it. Amity.”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know. Probably the hospital.” She walks away like she didn’t just drop a bomb on my world.

I grab someone else as they pass by, but they refuse to talk to me. Frustrated, I jump in my car and race to the clubhouse, knowing G will know where she is.

I don’t pay attention to the prospect that lets me in. I just park and run up to the saloon, praying that she’s okay. I can’t lose her too.

I burst through the doors and spot G right away. “G!” I yell his name as I run over and crash into him, grabbing his shirt as his arms wrap around me. “Tell me she’s okay! Please, God! Tell me she’s okay!” I pull back to look up at him. “I got home early and went to the set to see her, but they told me she got hurt, and nobody would tell me anything else!”

“Hey, hey, calm down, Tinkerbell. She’s okay, I promise. She’s asleep upstairs.”

“Really?” I ask, tears streaming down my face. “You promise?”

“I swear it. Come on, I’ll take you up to see her.”

I nod jerkily, freezing when I hear a familiar voice beside him.

“Vanilla,” Havoc groans as he lifts a strand of my hair to smell it.

“You two know each other?” G asks, his eyebrow raising as he looks between us.

“No!” I shout as Havoc moves closer, grinning like a lunatic as he tucks the strand of hair behind my ear.

“Yeah, I know her, G. This is my future wife.”

“What the fuck?” G asks.

What the actual…I stare at him, my mouth dropping open in shock.

“Go be with your friend, Cupcake. I’ll catch you later.”

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