by S. K Munt
‘Here in Niagara?’
Bruce shrugged. ‘Could be anywhere in the region, given how no one local has actually recognised him. Could have been a big band too, because a lot of the recognition he gets is positive, you know? Just last week, this gorgeous Filipino girl came up to us at a bar and took a selfie with him and just babbled for an hour before her husband dragged her away… would that have anything to do with your reaction? Do you recognize him or something?’
Leigh snorted gently, seeing the pattern that none of them had read enough, to see. Readers of the novel were jumping to the exact sort of conclusions she had, and they either loved it, or loathed him for it. She had thought that he was treating her like an idiot, for expecting to get away with the ‘act’ but what if he was the one who didn’t have a clue? If that was the case and it was all a fluke, then the poor guy was utterly blameless and Leigh could forgive his attitude.
But Leigh was a reader- and readers weren’t stupid. There was a very good chance that Ryan knew exactly what he was doing, and had gone with the name ‘Ryan Weaver’ because he aspired to be like him now that he had a fresh slate. Or, as a more sinister ‘what if’ Leigh had to force herself to wonder, if maybe the whole coma/ amnesia thing was a lie? What if he knew who he really was, and what he was doing? Had he read The Hardest Fall before his accident? It had been out for just over a year and had definitely made waves in the last six months. In fact, the poor author had gone into hiding due to the backlash over the unhappy ending, so there was a very good chance that a girl in Buffalo or some other nearby region had started chatting to a hot singer in a band about the character he resembled, and given him ideas.
And maybe he knew damn well that we hadn’t slept together, and was just playing dumb to get himself out of hot water, with a fan that actually spoke English for once? I have to find out, either way!
‘It’s possible…’ she hedged, responding to Bruce only when she realised that at least twenty seconds had lapsed since he’d inquired. ‘But I think I’m going to have to see him again and talk to him to know for sure- and before I share my intel, if you don’t mind.’
‘That’s fine,’ Bruce said easily, winking at her. ‘I mean, I’m curious, but we’re sort of trained in this place to keep our eyes on the floor and not root through closets for skeletons.’
Leigh was relieved, because she didn’t want to colour in Ryan’s blank slate with black marker if he really was an innocent guy who just so happened to have a striking name. Bruce rested the tray on the table. ‘I hope you don’t mind, Leigh, but I’m on my break and you look like you could use a coffee so I took the liberty of ordering you another latte.’
Leigh smiled at the concierge and accepted the cup that he handed to her, even though it was the champagne that she really wanted to chug down. ‘Are you going for employee of the month or what? Because if you are, know that you can count on my vote- and relax a little! You’re so attentive that I feel exhausted from just watching you micro-manage me.’
Bruce smiled shyly at her as he sat back down. ‘I’ve gotten employee of the month the last six months in a row so no, I’m not actively campaigning for what’s basically in the bag.’
Leigh laughed. ‘Well I’ve never gotten that kind of thing, so you should be very proud.’
Bruce cocked his head and smiled, and Leigh noticed for the first time, just how attractive the young Canuck was. He couldn’t have been a day older than twenty-one, and had dark brown hair that shone with reddish highlights in the lamplight, and dark brown eyes that were flecked with gold. His left eye had a very large fleck- a deformation in pigment she supposed, but the placement of it made him look like one of those wet-eyed Manga characters, like Astro Boy. His build was average; fit but nothing spectacular, so he wasn’t hot, per se, but he was warm, and getting warmer- and he was exactly the sort of guy that she knew her parents wanted her to bring home; wholesome, easy-going and attentive. Not a Ryan Weaver or a Kellan Kyle… but a Wesley. A Jasper. An Aspen.
‘What?’ Bruce asked then, putting down his coffee and wiping at his upper lip. ‘You’re staring! Do I have foam under my nose?’
Leigh laughed. ‘No, sorry. I was just thinking of how much my parents would adore you.’ The moment she said it, Leigh wished that she could take the words back and then, when Bruce blinked rapidly, she knew that she didn’t have a shot in hell of doing any such thing. ‘Um, sorry! That came out wrong!’ She leaned forward, wrapping her hands around her cardboard cup. ‘I do this thing, where I project book characters onto actual people… I know it’s weird, and I’m sorry, but it’s just a habit of mine and yeah, I was doing you.’
Bruce chuckled self-consciously. ‘That sounds promising… how did I fare?’
‘Among my favourites.’ She smiled at him. ‘And two of my mother’s.’
Bruce stared back and then rested his elbows on the table, studying her. ‘Well let me ask you something… are they the kind of characters who you’d allow to buy you a drink, sometime?’
Whoa! Okay, where did that come from?
Leigh laughed nervously, certain that she was imagining the way that his voice had lowered. ‘Isn’t that what you just did?’ She shook her coffee cup. ‘Unless you put it on my room tab…’
But Bruce laughed and shook his head. ‘No, this one’s on me. But I’m thinking more along the lines of the kind of drink where you end up inviting me up to your room for coffee afterwards- rather than me just finding excuses to come up to your floor with coffee at the ready.’
Leigh had been stunned by the initial offer, but now that he’d elaborated on his plan- the kind of plan that involved her inviting him into her room intentionally, her heartbeat began to pound and pump dread through her veins.
‘Oh man… I’ve crossed a line, haven’t I?’ Bruce stammered, breaking the silence while Leigh swallowed and pushed her glasses back onto her nose. ‘Leigh, I mean- Miss Dallas-Hone-’
‘That’s why you’ve been so nice to me?’ Leigh interrupted, lifting her eyes to his. ‘Because you wanted to ask me out?’
Bruce stared at her for a second, looking like he was in two minds about how to respond, but eventually he sighed and held up his hands in a helpless gesture. ‘You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met,’ the words were powerful, and the accent slayed her. ‘I couldn’t be anything BUT nice to you but yes, I’ve been hovering because I wanted to see you again.’
‘Me?’ Leigh scratched her damp hair, moving it until it covered the small zit she’d seen forming near her temple after her shower and feeling incredibly self-conscious. She was used to people hovering around her because something about her apparently begged her to be babied, not because they found her sexy. Pretty, perhaps. Striking maybe- but sexy? No. ‘You sure you don’t mean like, um… unusual?’
‘No.’ Bruce cupped his coffee and looked at her with frank interest- interest so blatant that she couldn’t believe that she hadn’t noticed it before. ‘I’m going to level with you, Leigh; asking out guests is a big hotel no-no, and I can understand why, so if I’m crossing a line here, feel free to report me because I deserve it.’ He smiled apologetically at her. ‘But I don’t know how to not ask you out, and I’m going to run out of excuses to fuss over you now that you’ve found your stuff so…’ he blew out his breath and shrugged. ‘I’m asking you out- employee of the month be damned. You name the night and I’ll show you the real Niagara- and a good time.’
Leigh sat back in the chair and scratched her head. At a loss for how to respond. Maybe he could use ‘sexy’ as a noun for her now, but that was going to change once he actually got to know her. ‘Bruce…’
He groaned. ‘That is not an encouraging start to an answer…’
She laughed. ‘I haven’t even started yet!’
‘I’m sorry- I’m just nervous…. I babble when I’m nervous.’
Leigh lifted her eyebrows. ‘Seriously?’ She held up the hem of her dress. ‘No… seriously? This is making you nervous?’ Bruce nodde
d and Leigh chuckled. ‘I don’t know. I mean, you seem really nice, and I was always partially team Jasper… but…’
He glanced over at her, his expression both hopeful and terrified. ‘But…?’
‘I don’t really date,’ she said finally, squirming. ‘I mean, I go through the motions of meeting people but…’ she winced, knowing that if she admitted the truth: ‘No one compares to the fictional men I take to bed every night,’ she wouldn’t have a date offer left to turn down, because he’d flee, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to flee just yet so she finished with: ‘It never goes anywhere.’
Bruce turned back to her, cocking his head. ‘Well, of course it doesn’t, or you’d be here on a honeymoon like everyone else, and my ex wouldn’t be selling my Harry Potter box set on E-bay right now... But it only has to go the right way once, doesn’t it?’
‘Harry Potter box set? Books or movies?’
‘The movies. There was no way that I was leaving my book set in that psycho’s hands!’
Leigh smiled, wondering if he could see the approval in her eyes. He read! He read middle-grade fantasy she’d never cottoned to, but it was something.
‘Oh my god… I don’t think a woman’s ever taken this long to accept a drink offer in history…’ Bruce complained, regarding her with desperate eyes. Leigh laughed again, thinking of Anne and Gilbert and how long he had waited. She wanted a man like that- a love like that- but that was a pretty tall order for a holiday fling to fill.
‘I want to say yes, I really do,’ she assured him. ‘I just worry about your expectations.’
‘Because you’re only here for a week?’ Bruce shrugged. ‘I don’t mind. I’m a bit of a romantic, and an incurable optimist and so, for the right girl… the right connection...’
Leigh exhaled heavily, wondering if she was making a big mistake by even contemplating going out with a guy so… insistent. ‘Okay, here’s the thing…’ she bit her lip. ‘I’ll say yes, but first you should probably know… there won’t be any coffee offers, in the uh, offing.’
Bruce raised one eyebrow, and it was so hot, that it was Bond. ‘Australian to Canuck translation?’
Leigh’s cheeks heated. ‘I don’t invite men up to my hotel room.’ She took a sip from her coffee and smiled in a way that she knew resembled someone smushing her face up against a pane of glass. ‘I never have before- ever. And I don’t plan on it… until we both own the coffeepot, if you catch my drift.’
Bruce’s mouth fell open.
Five
Leigh awoke to the brightest morning she’d ever known and immediately groaned and pressed her hands into her eyes, trying to block out the morning glare bouncing off the falls and the gleaming roof tops beneath her window, and making the veins behind her eyes glow bright red.
‘Oh man…’ Leigh didn’t need to open her eyes to know that she had a hangover, because she could feel the gentle pulse in her temples. And not just a hangover from the bottle of champagne she’d finished while re-reading The Count Of Monte Christo during her second soak in the hot tub either, but a morning-after-embarrassment hangover, complete with sunburned cheeks and a fluttering in her stomach.
Did all of that really happen? Fake Ryan’s and screaming matches? Broken devices and skipped blog entries? Flashing my ass at a guy on the wrong side of his amnesia? Having coffee with the concierge in my suite and agreeing to have something stronger outside of it? What the hell, Leigh? And you thought you wasted yesterday? You lived three lives in a few hours!
Leigh grudgingly got up to have a bath, and at first, she did so leisurely- washing her hair thoroughly and rinsing it lazily under the faucet instead of going over to the shower, and even picked up the copy of Monte Christo that she’d nabbed at the flea market in North Carolina for fifty cents, staring idly at it while she waited for her conditioner to work. But she’d left her reading glasses next to her bed and couldn’t focus on the words, so she turned on the television instead and clapped bubbly slaps when The Notebook blinked to forty-two inch life.
But despite how lovely and warm the bath was, the concept of relaxing became conceptual after only a few minutes, as a strange sense of urgency began to arise within her as her brain slowly woke up and began to tick over too fast for Noah Wyle’s poetic words to make her heart ache. This was day two in Niagara, and it was already half past eight, which meant that she only had less than twelve hours to do what she wanted to do, before Bruce picked her up for their date. She didn’t have a minute to waste!
Alert, Leigh splashed and clambered her way out of the spa, towelled herself off, slapped on the macadamia and honey moisturiser that came with the fancy toiletries rather than digging up her own, and then rifled through her suitcase while naked and shivering, instead of getting more mileage out of her robe.
What can I wear that says: ‘Accidentally sexy but don’t get any funny ideas’ to the concierge, but: ‘I don’t want you and here’s some hard truths’ to the guy who thinks that I want to him to see me as sexy? While looking gorgeous, grown-up, above him- and effortlessly sexy, of course?
Leigh groaned, pulling out clothes one by one and writing off every combination, before settling on her favourite skinny blue jeans, her black leather boots, which slouched and bunched to her calves, and a black sleeveless turtleneck that made her bust look bigger than it was, without showing any needy cleavage. She added a black leather belt to drape low on her hips and hide some of her bow-leggedness that her mother swore was in her head, telling herself that she didn’t have the rock-god on her mind when she chose the only studded thing she owned, and then towel-dried her hair before pulling it up into a high ponytail. She even added a bit of make up afterwards, and by the time she had her glasses on and her things re-packed, she was able to look into the mirror with a small smile of approval, and nod at the slightly preppy, slightly hip and slightly nerdy blonde squinting back at her.
I’ll never be Vogue, but vague suits me just fine!
Leigh turned away from her reflection before she could compare herself to the ethereal, boho and uber -stylish heroine from the novel she’d come to connect with. She would have liked to have the kind of willowy figure that suited the floaty, low cut and sophisticated dressed that Kylie had worn in The Hardest Fall, but that wasn’t her, and even if she’d been built like a dancer/ runway model, Leigh didn’t know how to braid very well, and her hair would never stay in a bun, boho or not.
Besides, it’s FREEZING here, and windy! No way would Kylie have been wearing open dresses and heels while she flitted about the falls and fell in love with Ryan! You lied, Kathryn Praser, but you stole my heart with that lie, so I forgive you...
Once she was dressed, Leigh took a few minutes to carefully re-pack her bag, making sure that she’d put everything back and in order, before tidying up the suite. It was quarter past nine by the time she was done, but she felt collected again- and her excitement had returned too.
Humming to herself and avoiding making eye- contact with the expensive breakfast menu, Leigh reached for the iPad next and unwrapped it before plugging it into the weird socket in the wall, no adapter required because the plug that had come with it was the American kind. It booted up quickly, and she clapped her hands together when the Internet bars blinked to life.
‘Data included! Thank you not-Ryan!’ Leigh immediately pulled up Safari and logged into her blog, her breath catching when she saw how many impatient and borderline-angry messages she had, before switching to her Facebook. She quickly typed a reassurance to her mother, mentioning then fact that she had her passport back and all was well and that she’d call after she’d seen some sights, copied and pasted the same: ‘I am SO sorry to keep you hanging but you would not believe what I’ve been through!’ message to the fans she knew only as fans, and then updated her status to: ‘Oops guys! I’ve been so lost in the beauty of this place and my suite that I forgot about my actual life! More later- after I get lost in a mall and find an iPad to replace the one I dropped!’ with a sad
emoticon after it, followed by a happy one to demonstrate her hopelessness and optimism for a less taxing day.
When Facebook was handled, Leigh went back to her blog and typed a quick entry, glancing up at the clock every now and then and groaning when she saw how quickly the McSeconds were ticking by.
‘Hey guys! Salutations from Niagara Falls! I know you’re ready to un-subscribe thanks to my poor work ethic but I beg of you, hang in there! This has been a wild ride indeed, in fact, since the moment I stepped off the bus; I’ve been wondering if going over the falls in a barrel would have been less exciting than what I’ve endured!
There’s way too much to get into now- I seriously need a McMuffin and my window to get to the mall and acquire one is now only half an hour wide, but stay tuned for an incredibly embarrassing, eye-rolling, curse-spitting tale of woe, that’ll have you in stitches. Want some hints? Okay, you talked me into it!
Well, the first person I met when I got off the bus yesterday was a fantastically beautiful, blue-eyed street musician named Ryan Weaver, and before I went to sleep last night, I had scored a date! Are these two things mutually exclusive, you ask? Sigh- no unfortunately. I’m afraid that Ryan Weaver would sooner stuff me into a barrel and push me off the frothy precipice than ask out the girl who went all screechy on him, but on the upside… there are equally sexy fish swimming about Niagara River and I have plans with one tonight! Squee! (Yes mum, he’s employed, has good teeth and manners.)
I really do have to go, BUT, as soon as I replace the iPad I dropped when I caught sight of Ryan and lost all muscle control, I swear I’ll divulge all the gritty and horrifically embarrassing details. Mother, avert your eyes, because it includes an anecdote about nineteenth century bonnets, my bare butt, and a noise complaint! Stranger than fiction- that’s been my reality here. Now, off to see what disasters this day will bring! Leigh Dallas-Hone, out.
