by S. K Munt
‘When we WHAT?’ Leigh demanded, alarmed.
‘When we hooked up...’ he winced as a full stop, pulled his hand from his mouth and pressed his fingers into his eyebrow, looking perplexed before adding: ‘Sorry…’
‘Oh my god!’ Leigh was appalled to the point of wanting to break the iPad over his head. ‘You think we had sex?! That’s what you’ve come to apologize for?’
‘Um, yeah?’ He look embarrassed, but not nearly enough for her liking. He scratched his head forward and Leigh wished he would stop fidgeting or at least, looking so freaking cute as he did, like an abashed child. ‘I mean, that’s why you’re pissed with me, isn’t it? Because I didn’t recognize you earlier? Just like all the others...’
‘The others?!’ Lee was incensed. Where did he get off, assuming that his little Ryan act had only offended her so, because he’d nailed her with it and then forgotten her? How dare he try and lump her onto the pile of naked, used women he’d accumulated while impersonating her literary soul mate? Leigh wasn’t that kind of girl at all, and he was NOT so hot that she’d write off her self-worth for one night with him! ‘How many iPads have you had to give out, mate? Do you have a stack of them next to a box of condoms back home, or what?’
He gave her a sullen look that almost took Leigh’s knees out proving that yes, he probably was hot enough to throw caution to the wind for. The pout, paired with those narrow and heated azure eyes, was too much! Still, she was fairly certain that she wasn’t the kind of girl who would fall for that sort of malarkey- a conviction she needed to keep, by getting him out of her room!
‘No. This is the first time,’ he said shortly, folding his arms and looking defensive. But then, his eyes softened and Leigh’s knees followed suit again. ‘Anyway that’s not the point. I’m here to say that I’m sorry if I was like, dismissive or didn’t call you back or something… I don’t have an excuse for that, and I can’t do anything to take any of it back- but pray that you weren’t like, underage at the time-’
‘Stop talking!’ she interrupted him, knowing she’d tear out clumps of hair to look as pathetic as he was painting her to be if he didn’t knock it off. ‘Listen mate- firstly, I’m twenty-three and small boned, not a damn leprechaun and secondly- I have no idea who you are, where you’re from or what your real name is! But I know two things for sure; there is no way that your name could be Ryan Weaver, and you and I haven’t had any sort of ‘we’ interaction in the past! On home soil OR this soil!’
He reeled back. ‘Say what now?’
‘You heard me! Maybe you can’t keep track of your lovers or your aliases, but its no sweat for me buddy! I may be a fan, but I’m not a whore!’
‘What?’ Leigh had expected him to be embarrassed for the snap judgement he’d made, but he surprised her by responding with a hostile glare to match his tone. ‘Well, if I haven’t fucked you before, what’s with the attitude?’
Leigh flinched at the f-word, which was one of those words she could handle easily in print, but not one she was used to people throwing around in her company. Ryan swore, the fictional Ryan that was, but he always managed to make it sound hot when he did it, and rarely crude like the guys who hung out at the pub she waitressed at on weekends.
Unfortunately for Leigh- fake Ryan had also wielded the word with a buttery tongue and just enough steam to make her sweat and now, there was a visual in her head of being fucked by him, and she was finding it hard to breathe around the thought. She looked up into his eyes, and was overcome with lust. Not enough to make her reach for him, but too much for her to break the spell he’d cast on her by moving away.
I wonder if he tries to mimic the novel in bed, too? You know, for the fantasy? Is he controlling? Does he have a tongue ring? Is he well… oh my goodness woman! SNAP out of it! Look at the size of the guy for starters, where would he even put it?
‘Well?’ he prompted her. ‘I’ve been walking around for hours worrying about you, but if I’ve done nothing to or with you, then why are you being such a bitch? And why did you drop your iPad when I smiled at you? And how do you know that my name isn’t really-’
‘Are you kidding me? How do I know that your name isn’t Ryan Weaver? Get out of here! I can understand you taking advantage of the groupie thing, if they’re willing participants in the fantasy- but mate, if you think you’re actually fooling these women into believing that you’re whom you’re masquerading as, and then you’re the biggest ditz of all! Don’t apologize to them- feel sorry for yourself!’
‘What masquerade?’ he demanded. ‘What are you talking about?’
Leigh rolled her eyes and turned for the bed, snatching up the iPad box. The fact that he’d basically admitted that he was using a fake name and the women who liked it was annoying, but the fact that he didn’t give the women he was bedding enough credit to understand that they saw through the lie did her head in. Women who read were the least likely to fall for a guy’s bullshit- that was probably why so many of them were single! If the ‘others’ were acting out against Ryan afterwards, then it was probably because he’d sucked between the sheets and had blown the fantasy- not because they were waiting by the phone for a call until the next Sylvia Day novel dropped!
‘I’m not going to humour you by answering that,’ she handed the box to him. ‘But rest assured, your ‘fans’ aren’t there for you, whatever your name is- but your pretty face, so don’t worry about handing out consolation Apple devices to your wronged parties, because the only person being used by your farce, is you!’
Ryan’s eyes flashed, not with anger- but sadness. ‘You’re insulting my music now?’
‘Because that’s offensive, whereas as insinuating that I was so unremarkable in bed that you plumb forgot me, while I fell apart over you- was a kind statement in comparison?’
He winced, tugging on his bracelet. ‘I did NOT mean it that way! You have to-’
‘And I don’t mean to insult your music! Really! I’m just complimenting the rest. Let’s face it, with a face like yours, you could sit there playing ‘Baa Baa Black Sheep’ on a Kazoo, and you’re gonna get taken home because you’re just THAT pretty. Just like any guy with a silver tie and mummy issues is getting taken back to badly-painted red bedrooms worldwide right now.’ She laughed at his confused expression. ‘Oh, you haven’t read that one? You really should you know- it has a happy ending so it’s out-sold the other by a landslide.’
‘Wait.. What?’ He was the picture of confusion. ‘What are you on about? Silver ties? Kazoos? I think you’re cracked!’
‘I think you should crack a book and get a clue!’ Leigh responded, propelling him out into the corridor by pressing the iPad into his shoulders. ‘Or if you’re starting to get backlash here, move to Washington, get some glitter, dye your hair and try standing around looking hungry and pray that you get some ass that way!’
‘Listen lady, I don’t know what Fifty Shades or Twilight has to do with my gigs, but I read you know! I just don’t apparently read the crap and fluff that you do!’
‘Ohhh!’ she managed to hiss all those ‘h’s’ with her furious exhalation. ‘I read EVERYTHING!’
‘Clearly not,’ he countered, ‘it’s pretty obvious that you overlooked ‘How to win friends and influence people’!’
‘And it’s pretty obvious that you take charming people with bull-poo to an extreme!’
‘Bull-poo?’ Ryan looked like he was about to laugh, and that just made her angrier. ‘Jesus Lady, I don’t know why it’s Niagara you’re visiting when clearly, you belong in Utah or Pennsylvania!’
‘Hey!’ a third voice hissed the hostile greeting just as Leigh managed to move the gaping god out into the corridor. She looked to her right in time to see Bruce stalk out of the elevator, glaring at her new nemesis. ‘Ry! What the hell? I break the rules to do you a favour, and you get me noise complaints for my trouble?’
Noise complaints? Oh no! Like this day hasn’t been humiliating enough?
Ryan held up his h
ands. ‘Don’t ask me what’s going on mate, ‘cos I haven’t the faintest. I’m trying to work out why she’d so mad at me, but I’m fairly sure that she started talking another language about ten minutes ago because I haven’t understood a word!’
Leigh smirked. ‘The real Ryan Weaver spoke fluent French and Japanese- now THAT’S sexy!’
‘I don’t know what REAL Ryan Weaver you’re referring to, but: Vas te faire encule! Je suis toutes sortes de sexy!’ He smirked at her then added: ‘Soshite, anata wa anata ga sore o shitai shitte iru!’
‘Ryan!’ Bruce snapped. ‘She’s a guest!’
‘She’s an uppity bitch...’ Ryan groused, giving her that sullen pout again.
‘Okay that’s it!’ Bruce shot her an apologetic and mortified look as he began to nudge Ryan toward the elevator. ‘Time to leave! Miss Dallas-Hone, I cannot apologize enough.’
Leigh was barely aware of their exchange as she fought off the temptation to look down and see if her vagina had fallen off and was trying to hump Ryan’s leg. She couldn’t speak French or Japanese, but she’d just enjoyed whatever he’d said immensely, even if he had called her an uppity bitch in two different languages.
‘You really can’t with that one,’ Ryan grumbled, jerking her back to attention as the elevator dinged. He was shooting her a scathing look over Bruce’s shoulder. ‘Even if you haven’t done anything to earn her pissy attitude to begin with!’
Leigh scowled after him but said nothing; she was done wasting words on the idiot, and enjoying watching him being manhandled into the elevator by a guy half his size, but twice as nice. What a jerk! She didn’t curse, so she was automatically some big prude? That was unfair! She enjoyed the kind of books that would probably make him hide under the bed and play with himself! She just didn’t feel the need to emote those characters the way he did!
‘Oh, hey! Gilbert, is it?’ Ryan waved over Bruce’s shoulder, addressing the space next to where Leigh was standing. ‘I’ve withdrawn from the duel, by the way. I hope you two have beautiful, invisible children together- and I pray that they don’t get their mother’s personality!’
Leigh’s teeth snapped together and she advanced, ready to hurl the iPad box at his head, but the doors began to slide shut, and the last she saw of bizarro Ryan, was him sagging back against the wall of the elevator and shaking his head at her with scornful blue eyes and curled, perfectly red lips.
Four
‘Miss…’ Bruce turned around and began to walk back to her, straightening his tie while Leigh had a silent and internal breakdown. ‘Leigh, are you all right? I don’t understand what happened. Ryan’s such a nice guy! In the few months that I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him act as anything but a perfect gentleman.’
Perfect Gentleman? Yeah right! When he wants something, maybe!
‘... A bit moody and distant often yes, but always polite, and the ladies seem to love him- most of the time. In fact, he does so well that I almost refused to let him come up for… well… that’s kind of obvious, isn’t it?’
Leigh snorted and took the cap off her head before smiling wanly at Bruce, who she’d only been half-listening to, ruffling out her wispy hair. ‘Nothing about the man is obvious, aside from the whole stolen identity thing. Other than that, he’s about as cryptic as the Times crossword that I tried to do in Maine last Sunday.’ She crossed her arms and cocked her head, studying Bruce. ‘And while we’re on the subject, why am I the only person who seems to be aware of the little act he’s got going on?’
‘Act?’ Bruce looked confused. ‘What act?’
Leigh rolled her eyes, walking back into her room and throwing herself down onto one of the dining chairs. ‘The Ryan Weaver thing? I mean, you can’t tell me that I’m the only person in Niagara Falls who knows that’s he’s not who he says he is, right?’
Bruce shook his head gently as he followed her inside and closed the door behind him. ‘No… everyone who knows him- and that’s a rather small circle right now- is fully aware that the name he uses is not likely the one he was born with. But given his condition, we’re hardly going to judge the poor bastard for it.’
‘His condition?’ Leigh’s pulse accelerated. ‘What condition? Argh! I knew he had something weird wrong with him… what is it? Schizophrenia? Early dementia? Multiple personality disorder?’
But Bruce’s brows lifted. ‘He didn’t tell you?’
‘Tell me what?’
Bruce sighed. ‘Ryan’s got amnesia, Leigh. He doesn’t remember a thing about his life, up until three months ago when his body was pulled out of Niagara Gorge.’
And just like that, the pages in Leigh’s heart fluttered until the words were swept away, and the parchment left blank. ‘Are you serious?!’
Bruce nodded gravely. ‘Yeah, I um... I need to make a quick call to the desk. But if you want, I can explain what I know in a minute…?’
Leigh nodded woodenly, dropping her forehead to the table and rapping it gently while Bruce lifted the phone and began to speak to someone in hushed tones. Ryan had amnesia? Why had he seemed so upbeat, back at the falls?
Duh. ‘Cos he probably can’t remember any unpleasant experiences… until he met you!
Leigh groaned and hit her head a little harder, wishing that she could just knock herself out and do the world a favour.
‘Yeah it was bad,’ Bruce eventually said after clacking the phone down. ‘He had some major head wounds, and I think he was even blind for the first week after he came out of his coma.’
‘Amnesia…’ Leigh took her glasses off and ground the heels of her hands into her suddenly heavy eyelids. ‘And I was so… ugh!’
The chair across from her dragged across the carpet. ‘Don’t feel bad- it sounds so far-fetched. In fact, I actually laughed when he first told me, thinking it was some joke he was making but no… it’s true.’
Leigh lifted her head. ‘I believe you. I’m just wishing for a case of amnesia myself so I can pretend this day never happened…’
Bruce stared at her for a moment, right into her eyes, and then his gaze traced an invisible loop around her face. Leigh tensed somewhat, turning her face in profile and glaring at him. ‘What?’
‘Huh? Oh no it’s just…’ Bruce let his ear fall towards his left shoulder and smiled in a strange way. ‘Your eyes… they’re...’
Unusual. Bright. Cartoonish. Reminiscent of squid. Out of whack. Leigh had heard all the possible adjectives to describe her eyes over the years, which was precisely why she wore glasses with the broadest frames possible. She wasted no time shoving her glasses back onto her face then, and averting her eyes. ‘Yeah I know. They’re… anyway…’ self-consciousness swelled inside her, puffing up her tongue. ‘You were saying?’
Bruce stared at her a moment longer, then seemed to realise that she wasn’t enjoying it, and dropped his own for a moment. ‘The guy doesn’t have a clue who he is, where he’s from or even how old he is… he’s made some guess-timations of course; the Aussie accent is a bit of a giveaway,’ he looked up and gave her an inclusive smile, ‘and the doctors think that he’s about twenty-two, twenty-three years old… but that’s all he’s got. There are no missing person files that are compatible with his case, and there wasn’t any identification found washed up with him. In fact, I believe that he was naked. Not that that’s so surprising- anyone who goes through Devil’s rapids, as they think he may have, is likely to not only lose a shirt, but a pound of flesh as he did. And it’s a good thing that it was summer when he washed up, or he would have died of Hypothermia.’
Leigh winced. They’d driven past Devil’s Rapids on the way to the falls in the coach, and the driver had made a big song and dance over how dangerous they were, and how only the hard-core dare-devils messed around in those waters. ‘Was he swimming or what, you think?’
Bruce held out his hands. ‘They don’t know, and what ‘they’ don’t know, Ry doesn’t know. They did find a beaten-up kayak down the way from where his body was, run aground on
some rocks so it’s likely that he was in it and then thrown from it… but without knowing his real name, there’s no way of knowing if he was there as a tourist or if he had a green card, and because he woke up with the ability to speak several languages in an Australian accent, they can’t even be certain where he was from,’ Bruce smiled gently, ‘before he was from ‘upstream’, that is.’
‘He doesn’t look French or Japanese…’ Leigh mused. ‘Surely, if he came out speaking English with an Aussie accent, he’s got to be an Aussie?’
‘That doesn’t mean that he was a resident there when he went abroad though,’ Bruce pointed out. ‘And it’s not just Japanese and French he speaks either. He’s also fluent in Greek and Italian. It’s really something to see- he taught me and a few friends how to cuss in all four languages!’
Leigh looked down at her feet again, embarrassed. She’d rubbed Ryan Weaver’s multilingual talents in his impersonator’s face, and all the while, the fake Ryan was twice as cultured as the fictional one! ‘Just… wow...’
Bruce chuckled and patted her hand. ‘Like I said, he’s a great guy. I was half afraid that he wouldn’t come back downstairs after I let him up; so to say I was shocked to happen upon you two fighting is an understatement. What happened?’ Leigh’s cheeks heated further and she munched on her lower lip. But before she could answer, there was a knock at the door and Bruce got up from his chair. ‘Excuse me.’
Leigh did so gladly, burying her face in her hands again and moaning softly at the memory of Ryan catching her with her skirt up. When Bruce walked back, he had two takeaway coffee cups in his hands.
‘You know what’s weird? You’re not the first girl to sort of flip on him. In fact, it’s happened a few times, now that I think about it. He never recognises them of course, but they know him, and they attack- usually while speaking a language he doesn’t know, so he has no idea what they’re on about.’ Bruce winked. ‘It’s given him a bit of a complex, and he’s come to the conclusion that he must have lived somewhere nearby before, and burned a few bridges, probably while fronting a band that don’t care enough about him to look for him after.’
