Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
The seat belt sign dinged off, so Daisy turned and knelt up onto her seat to face him. She gasped. “Hey, wait, you’re the guy from that commercial! With the dog and the thing!”
“Sorry, no. I—”
“You are!” Daisy argued, loudly enough to get the attention of all the passengers who were trying to collect their bags and deplane.
The woman sitting with him looked up from her phone and shot him a teasing look. “I assure you, he’s not that interesting. He’s a physician in Manhattan. Bor-ring.”
The playful sarcasm in her voice suggested they knew each other well, and the way he rolled his eyes confirmed it.
Daisy set her jaw. “Be that as it mayyyyy,” she said. “He’s also in that commercial with the dog and the thing!”
A man craned his head around the people in the aisle to take a look at the handsome doctor like he was a bug under a magnifying glass. “You do look a little like him.”
Another lady shook her head. “Too squinchy in the eyes. It’s not him.”
Someone behind us called impatiently, “Can we go, please? There’s a fruity drink with my name on it somewhere.”
Daisy pouted. “But I want an autograph and picture.”
The crowd around us began to argue, some trying to get closer to the doctor to get a better look, a few saying they wanted an autograph and picture also, most just hoping to get off the damned plane.
The doctor blushed fiercely.
Suddenly, I had an idea. “Oh, I know exactly who you mean now,” I told Daisy. “Wade, uh… Brown. Wade Brown. Yeah. But he died.”
“What?” Her eyes went huge.
“Mmmm,” I said solemnly. “Tragic. Even Kevin Bacon posted about it. They’d worked together a bunch. He played his guitar in a tribute song for the guy on social media.” I laid a hand over my heart and cast my eyes to the ceiling of the airplane. “RIP, Wade.”
“Ohmigosh! Now that you mention it, I think I did see Kevin playing his guitar!” Daisy exclaimed. She turned to the doctor. “Sorry, bro. ’S too bad you didn’t do the thing with the dog, though.”
Others nodded and murmured, agreeing that it was sad for such a good actor to be cut down in his prime… and that this random guy on the airplane wasn’t semi-famous.
The doctor shot me a look of incredulity and mouthed, “Thank you.”
I winked back at him.
“So anyway,” I said to the rest of the people around us, nodding and stepping out into the aisle before nudging others forward. “We’ll all drink one to Wade tonight. I know I’m gonna.”
“To Wade!” everyone added.
I didn’t bother waiting for my bag since I already knew it hadn’t made the connection. After filing an official lost-bag claim, I grabbed the first taxi to the resort and charmed the front desk lady into an oceanfront room, a toiletry kit, and a drink voucher.
The warm tropical air was a relief after the harsh Wyoming winter I’d left behind. I took a moment to breathe it in as I made my way out to the cabana bar by the pool. The rhythmic sound of the waves was soothing as I approached the bartender.
“Plate of whatever appetizers you have and a Double Old Fashioned, please,” I murmured to the guy before scoping out a small table at the edge of the area where I could look out at the ocean. As soon as the drink was in my hand, I wandered over and sat down, enjoying the smoky citrus taste of the first sip.
Now, this was more like it. Warm, salty air. Quality bourbon. Nowhere to be. Zero chance of a midnight call to a snowy accident on the highway.
“Mind if I join you?”
I looked up to see the handsome doctor from the plane standing beside my table with a slight smile. My stomach did that funny little thing again.
“Please,” I gestured to the empty chair across from me. “I owe you a thank-you for the tissues and your sense of humor. And for not blowing my cover story about poor, departed Wade Brown.”
He chuckled as he sat down. “As far as I’m concerned, you rescued me. That was quick thinking. I must look an awful lot like that guy, if she was that insistent.”
“I have no idea who she was talking about, so I made up a name,” I admitted with a laugh.
“Well, here’s to my doppelgänger, the late, great, fictional Wade Brown,” he said, raising his glass. “May he rest in peace.”
I clinked my glass against his. “To Wade.” I took a sip and then licked my lips. “You here alone? Where’s your… friend?”
He smiled. “My cousin Ella. She had some work to catch up on.” He reached out a hand to shake. “I’m Tommy, by the way. Tommy Marian. Boring doctor from Manhattan. Apparently.”
“Foster Blake,” I replied, enjoying the warm clasp of his hand in mine. “Boring sheriff of Majestic, Wyoming, currently on a much-needed vacation.”