Unknown (Unknown Identity #1) (11 page)

W
hen she finished the manuscript, she stared at the screen and felt the need to immediately start up again with the next book. There was no reason to stop. It was the next thing on her list, and looking at the mountain of steamed rice and vegetable containers she’d been working her way through, along with the pizza boxes that were cramming up her entire kitchen, it just seemed like the solution to her boredom problem that was infecting her mind right now. Sure, the edits would come back soon and she would need to find some way to work those in, but Leslie found when she was in her darkest moments, she liked to strike out in new directions. Creating was her solution to feeling depressed and like she had lost everything.

In the week that had passed since she left the note in paradise for her friends while they had gone to eat, and probably discuss how they were going to handle their depressed hostess, Leslie had left quietly, caught the first boat and flight home, and then found that writing with the door locked, looking out over the street beneath her balcony was the best remedy. Just like when Michael had gotten sick, and then again after he’d died. Of course, since her friends didn’t come back immediately, she assumed they were more than willing to stay and enjoy the vacation while Leslie dealt with her sadness on her own.

She had no doubt she would get over Conrad. She had made a connection, but it wasn’t the kind of connection that was meant for a lifetime. It had been a silly fantasy, on a paradise island. She’d made herself believe she’d fallen for a famous, hot actor. Just like one of the characters in her books.

It wasn’t the end of the world and she wasn’t going to treat it like that. She’d been there before and knew exactly what it felt like. For now, she was just going to hit the workload she had and then she was going to come out of it completely better for it.

She knew she was lying to herself, but that didn’t stop her.

So she had really liked Conrad. She had made a connection with him where she had never made a connection with anyone before. So, while she was eating pizza slices from Gustavo’s and hitting the gym to break herself out of the depression that gripped her, she kept telling herself that she needed to keep moving forward. One step at a time.

Conrad had a mess of problems to deal with. The fact that Kyra had been looking for her husband only proved how determined she was to keep him. Maybe they’d gotten back together, maybe they hadn’t. It didn’t matter. Conrad wasn’t ready to jump right into another relationship. He’d needed a rebound. That was what she had gone looking for. Just sex with no strings… On a secluded island.

Standing up to go find something chocolaty to warm her heart, she heard a knock at the door and looked toward the sound with a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Shit
. Her neighbors were back.

“Leslie?” a familiar voice called, but not the voice she’d been expecting.

In fact, she had never expected to hear Conrad’s voice again except on television. She couldn’t help but feel a cold trickle run down her spine. She had anticipated Josie or Amber, but not Conrad. She crouched down, like he might be able to see through the door and spot her. “Leslie? Are you home? I have to talk to you,” he called out, knocking on the door again.

Anger built up inside of Leslie. She wasn’t going to open the door for him. She couldn’t let him into her life; at least, not now. She knew if she opened that door, she wasn’t going to be strong enough to resist him; she would fall for him all over again.

He knew nothing about her. He had no idea she had money and who she really was. He thought of her as a starving writer. Hadn’t he teased her about that during the one lunch they’d shared?

Another knock at the door told her he wasn’t going to give up. She needed to cut him off now. Tell him she didn’t want him or the bullshit baggage that came with his life.

“What do you want?” Leslie asked, standing up slowly and walking toward the door.

“Damn, it’s good to hear your voice,” Conrad said, no longer sounding desperate or panicked. He sounded relieved, honestly, like he’d expected her to be dead. She felt slightly insulted by that. “Leslie, it took an entire week of begging your friends to get your address. I think they’re more furious with me than you are.”

“I highly doubt that,” Leslie growled. “How’s your wife?”

“She’s not…” He sighed, clearly frustrated on the other side of the door. “Can you please let me in so we can talk?”

“Why?” She didn’t want to see him. The minute she did, the wall she’d been rebuilding would come crumbling down. “You said she cheated on you and you left her. Then you go all googly-eyed on me. It was just a game to you, wasn’t it?”

“It wasn’t a game!”

She ignored his comment. “Then the moment you see her, you bend and don’t even fight to defend me. You just let me walk away.”

“What do you think I’m doing now?” Conrad punched the wood frame. “What do you think I’ve been doing for the past week?”

She didn’t know what to say or do. She knew she shouldn’t open the door. She shouldn’t even be standing to it as closely as she was, but she wanted so badly to throw open the door and kiss him. She wanted to drag him inside the room and look into his sapphire eyes and strip his clothes off. They wouldn’t even make it to the couch. But she didn’t want to be used or manipulated. She wasn’t in the business of being a rebound. She’d never used anyone after Michael. She also wouldn’t treat Conrad like a tool to get over her dead husband. She moved to the door and pressed her forehead against it.

“I didn’t even get a chance to make love to you,” Conrad said through the door, clearly plagued by the silence that he was being forced to endure. She didn’t even feel the slightest amount of sympathy for him. It was nothing short of what he deserved after what he’d made her feel. “I didn’t get a chance to laugh again with you or watch our movies. I wanted to do so many things with you on the island. I know it might sound like I’m moving too fast. Or maybe it sounds a little desperate or clichéd, but I really liked you a lot, Leslie. I think I was completely smitten by you. You know? Like in the old movies and stuff? I’ve never felt like this before. It’s awesome and terrifying at the same time.” His fist gently hit the door. “Leslie, I want a chance. I want you to show me all the scars you hide. I want to be the one to pick up all your broken pieces.” There was a long pause before he sighed. “I just needed to have the chance to tell you that I feel this way before you decided I wasn’t worth your time. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

It was passing.

It was all beginning to fade. The hurt, losing Michael, the fear.

Once again, she was on the threshold of one of those moments in her life that was going change everything. A moment in her life where she was going to look back and see it as a point of regret or as a stepping stone.

It was a risk.

She didn’t know if opening the door would be the point of regret or the stepping stone. She was just going to have to make a decision and live with it.

It didn’t guarantee that it was going to be all flowers and rainbows and puppies if she opened the door. Maybe this was going to be the decision that was going to cost her so much hurt and pain that it would change her life and her perception of the world because of what she experienced.

What if that was what was waiting for her on the other side of the door?

Relationships don’t always end well and they don’t always end with happily ever after. Maybe by keeping the door closed, she was saving herself from ending up in the same position in a few months or years, but she was saving part of her innocence and her soul in the process.

Leslie stared at the doorknob.

How much was she willing to risk?

Should she open the door or not?

What’s it going to be?
she trembled as she asked herself.

THE END

Unpublished coming June 2016

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