First Page: Untitled – Light Romantic Suspense
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Kira Bradford checked her watch: 8 o’clock. Time to cheat on her boyfriend.
Okay, that wasn’t really accurate. She didn’t want to cheat on Alan. In fact, she’d tried to break up with him for the last three nights – ever since GoodGuy73 had texted her to suggest meeting up for a drink – but Alan had worked late every night, not getting back to their condo until she’d already fallen asleep on their couch.
And it wasn’t like she was going to sleep with GoodGuy73; they were just going to meet for a drink. She’d never even met him – or even seen his picture – just chatted with him online. So she’d simply have a few drinks, a few laughs… and try to pretend that Alan Connor didn’t exist.
Kira threw open the door of her VW bug, grabbed her enormous pink purse and stepped into the parking lot of O’Malley’s Bar and Grill. She made a halfhearted attempt to smooth out a few of the wrinkles in her black and white wrap dress before giving it up as a lost cause. She didn’t know why she’d worn the dress anyway – normally, she’d have pulled on the teal shantung dress with the high slit or the gold brocade dress with the deep v neck. She tossed her long, wavy red hair, carefully controlled for once, over her shoulder, and with a hitch of her giant bag, she headed across the parking lot.
The heels of her leather boots clicked with each determined step, the staccato emphasizing her thoughts. Forget about Alan. Click. They were as good as broken up. Click. He had to have sensed the distance between them for the last few weeks. Click. He probably knew she was going to break up with him and that’s why he hadn’t come home until after midnight each night. Click. He just didn’t want to face one of her “scenes.” Click. There was no reason for her to feel guilty.
She took a deep breath, pushed the niggling sense of guilt she couldn’t quite shake, and hauled open the door, ready to make her grand entrance. She pulled her pink purse forward a little, since that was how she’d told GoodGuy73 he’d recognize her. GoodGuy73 had said he’d meet her at the bar, and that he’d have a red lily for her. The only flowers Alan ever got her were boring roses.
Her already fast-beating heart jumped to warp speed as she scanned the room, looking for the lily. She caught a glimpse of red out of the corner of her eye, at the far end of the bar, and swiveled toward it, a smile of anticipation already spreading across her face. She’d found GoodGuy73. He had a drink in his right hand, the lily in his left, exactly as she’d expected.
What she hadn’t expected? GoodGuy73 was Alan.