Page 56 of New Girl in Town
“A slower pace of life, for starters. There’s just something about being able to get to know the people around you, about being able to take the time to do it. And the scenery is beautiful. There’s no place I’d rather be than in the mountains.”
The host giggled, and it sounded like tinkling chimes, all light and air. “Do you chop your own wood?” she asked, reaching out to touch Grant’s bicep.
“On occasion, but we do have heaters.”
“That’s not as fun.” She pouted, and then asked, “Is there a special lady in your life? You were infamous in the social circles before your self-exile to Colorado.”
Grant cleared his throat. “I, ah, was—yes.”
“And are you painting Colorado red?”
He shook his head and scrubbed a hand against the back of his neck. “No, not at all.”
“You’re single then?”
“Ah, no.”
Melinda’s hand caught mine in a death grip. “He’s talking about you.”
I bit my lip and managed a slight nod. The news host’s mouth dropped open, and she gave Grant a swat on the arm with her note cards. “Are you saying you’re off the market?”
“That’s the measure of it,” he said after a beat.
“What a lucky woman! Is there anything you want to tell her?”
Grant’s cheeks flushed, and I felt a measure of satisfaction at seeing him looking uncomfortable. It was only fair, given how caught off-guard I was by all of this. Why hadn’t he just told me that he would be on a national television program? Why had he hid who he was?
A Bradford. A member of the upper-crust elite, capable of moving in circles that put A-list actors to shame.
Who was I even dating?
He cleared his throat. “I’m not even sure she’s watching, but thank you all the same.”
“Oh, come on. Just one little hi. I bet she’s watching. How could she not be?” the host asked with a laugh. Maybe because she didn’t know there was anythingtowatch.
Grant nodded and then turned toward the camera. My breath caught in my throat the second his blue eyes hit the screen, because it was like nothing separated us. Thousands of miles were gone, until it was just him and me in a room.
“Sweetheart.”
That one word hit me like an arrow, and I squeezed my eyes shut. “Fuck.” I massaged my temples as that one word continued to vibrate through me.
“Oh,” Melinda sighed, and shook a finger at the screen. “The man is good.”
“Yeah,” I said from where I slumped against the arm of the sofa.
I felt Melinda’s hand touch my arm. “What are you going to do?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, opening my eyes to see her looking at me with concern. “I really don’t know.”
“He’s still him,” she said, but I shook my head, eyes drifting back to the television screen where Grant chuckled along with the news host.
“He’s really not. He lied to me,” I whispered, hating that my voice wouldn’t go any louder. It suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe. My throat squeezed tighter the longer I watched Grant on the television.
“Lied to you?”
I nodded, my eyes squeezing shut in a bid to block out Grant’s smiling face. I rubbed my temples, trying to get my heart rate under control. “He never once mentioned who he really was. Where the hell did he get that fake last name? The back of a cereal box? I’m over here falling in love with him—”
Melinda gasped. “You what?”
