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I’d watched him talk to his mother on the tarmac yesterday with my heart in my throat. It didn’t go well, I could tell that much at least.
Had she broken the news to him? Maybe she’d only hinted at it. Either way, Rhett hasn’t been quite the same since, and I’m dying to know where we stand. He, on the other hand, apparently wants to save the conversation for New York.
While this time together is something I’ll never forget, the practical side of me just wants to rip the band-aid off and get it over with.
I follow the beach for a little bit before arriving at a cabana with a beach bathhouse set back from it.
I plan on watching the sun finish rising from one of the chairs, but as I sit down I realize something has been left there.
On the opposite chair there’s a Kindle. I recognize it instantly as the one Marie was reading in Chicago. She must have forgotten about it yesterday.
I pick it up, intending to bring it back with me.
It only takes a moment for my nosy side to take over.
I really shouldn’t look through Marie’s library, but what if it can give me some insight into the woman’s thought process?
Yeah right. I’m just beyond curious at what a woman like Marie reads for fun. It’s probably just boring trade copy, but who knows? I cross my fingers for some good trashy romcom titles I can check out later and power the device on.
But much to my surprise, the book that pops up mid-chapter is neither financial jargon nor smutty delight. It’s a book I’ve never heard of, but, from the title, can instantly guess the contents of: They Came From Mars, Returned Home, and Now Have Come Back Again. For Our Children! Book 11.
What a mouthful. And someone wrote eleven of these?!
Before propriety can stop me, I flip to her library.
As it turns out, according to Marie’s To Read pile, the author actually wrote fifteen. And Marie owns every one of them.
I scroll back through her history, mouth open, caught between major confusion and quite a bit of glee. So this is Marie’s hidden side, huh? A library full of time travel, space Marines, B-movie monsters, and all manner of aliens. The extra terrestrials feature the heaviest across the titles — some come in peace, others are out for world domination, all seem to have the same grotesque physiognomy that would send a special effects department into overtime.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Marie’s voice rips me out of the Kindle. I jump up in surprise, red-faced and stammering. Where did she come from?
Marie’s arms are crossed. She doesn’t look pleased. I don’t blame her.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I didn’t see anything.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“I— I mean—” Goddamn it, Liz. Two days. That’s all you needed to keep it together for.
I pause and collect myself. “I’m sorry,” I say, more calmly. “I wasn’t trying to pry. I just wanted to see whose it was.”
Marie’s face doesn’t twitch as she studies me, looking for cracks. Finally she holds out a single hand.
I hurry, stumbling a bit on the sand, and give her the Kindle.
“I’ll thank you to keep this to yourself,” Marie says at last. Then, “I need a partner for tennis this morning. I hope you’re good.”
She turns around and stalks away without another word.
I exhale loudly. Busted. For a moment I thought she was going to murder me here on this empty beach lest I spread her secrets to the world. Good thing we’re not in a cheesy action novel ourselves.
Although maybe immediate death would have been the better punishment. I haven’t played tennis in years. This is about to be embarrassing.
* * *
I’m a bit relieved that Rhett’s not in the room when I go up to change. Where he could be is anyone’s guess (though my money’s on lost somewhere in the bowels of this gigantic house after going on an expedition for some towels).
