Page 42 of Invasive Species
It's a strength I intend to use.
Downloading a host of anatomy and sex guides as well as the novels, I get out my notes comp and study.
FIFTEEN
ARABELLA
Wow.Wooow.
Overnight, I gained ten thousand followers. It didn't stop there. In the past week, I've gained over eighty thousand followers.
Thousands of messages asking where this bed and breakfast is, all thirsty and asking whether the “hot builder” will be there. Holy shit. Gara’s next level looks have catapulted Ellen's new venture into the limelight overnight.
I shove back the crawling feeling it's all going to go wrong. If I stick at it, this time will be different. And I’ve totally hidden Gara in plain sight. Kind of clever, really. Right? Right.
It'll be fine.
I concentrate on following back all the followers. It's only polite. A few are private but one sticks out to me: The Bend Master. I click through the profile of a guy with a hard hat, and scroll reams of photos of big dirt holes.
Oh, shit, it's Fassbender, the family trying to buy Ellen's farm. This must be Fassbender Junior, taking selfies atdevelopment sites all over the country like hunting conquests. Yuck. I don't follow him back. Asshole.
I do have to put up another picture to capitalize on the momentum, though. I flick through the ones I have as I sip coffee in bed. Gara lifting stones. Gara with his pad. Gara looking at me over the top of the 3D hologram he can make of the barn, giving me a tolerant look. Gara gazing at the farmhouse with longing in his face. I remember that moment; I had snuck up on him.
It's nicely framed, morning mist blurring the background nicely. What was he looking for? He’d jumped when I stood next to him. “I thought you were inside. Good morning,” he'd said.
I sit up, the blanket I flung over my legs pooling onto the floor. Could it be he was looking for… me?
No, couldn't be. Maybe he was thinking of, I don't know, alien cheese and staring into space.
I quickly add some blur on Gara’s muscled back to make it look like he's wearing hi viz again. Each sweep and slope of his body is pure art, and it pains me to hide him under my brush strokes. I study the original photo for as long as I want with no one the wiser, and I'm still ogling when my phone vibrates, making me jump.
Laura's calling me. I pick up the blanket and pull it over me as I answer, using my nickname for her. “Mmmmorning, Law.”
“Good morning to you, too. How's things?”
“They're, well, pretty cool.”
“Mm. And Ellen's first bed and breakfast guests, are they behaving themselves?”
“First bed and… oh! Oh, yeah, they're pretty cool too.”
“Uh huh.” Laura pauses, fingers drumming on something. “I'm coming over for lunch. Can you let Ellen know when she gets back?”
How does she know? “Uh… sure. So… Nicole told you?”
“Told me what?”
“That she’s, uh… gone on holiday.”
“Is that a joke? What about the—” She lowers her voice. “Bed and breakfast guests?”
“Ah. Right. So. Nicole didn’t tell you, then.” Oh, fuck. What do I say now?
Laura’s quiet, then sighs. “Where’s Ellen? Really?”
“So, uh, don't panic, but she, uh, she… She kind of went off with Ilia. In another spacesh—another car.”
“What the fuck?” The phone crackles as if Laura’s breathing down it. Like she’ll be breathing down my neck shortly.
