↠ Open Novella Contest Long List finalist.
Private Investigator, Alexander Hart has it all, he oozes confidence and charm.
Women want him and men want to be him.
But life wasn't always so perfect, was it Alex?
You can change your name and your lo...
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My heart beats impossibly harder, my sweaty hands shake like a cocktail shaker and my brain feels like a martini, shaken, not stirred.
Summer Richards.
My shocked expression intensifies. The last person I expected to waltz through my door is the woman standing before me; to be perfectly honest I thought the chances of ever seeing her again were slim to none and I was A-OK with that.
Her mousy brown waves still bouncing on her shoulders from being shaken from her hood, while her eyes study me intently, glinting with curiosity like aquamarine stones in the mid-day sun. She looks just like a remember, more beautiful even. The last eight years have done her wonders.
Unfortunately, I'm not only remembering her beauty, but all of the memories I've pushed to the deepest depths of my subconscious and my mind falters.
My mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air as I try to string together a coherent sentence.
"Mr Hart?" she questions, raising a perfectly sculpted brow, almost in amusement.
That seems to be enough to snap me from my dazed state.
Leaning back in my chair, propping my right foot on my left knee and crossing my arms tightly across my chest, "sit." My voice unwavering and somewhat cold.
She nods before sauntering over to the chair in front of my desk and taking a seat, eagerly scooting closer to the edge of the desk. Her sweet perfume rolling off of her in waves with every lurch forward of her body. Damn, she still smells the same. Peaches and vanilla.
"So, as I was saying..." She trails off, eyes scanning the room.
"I really need your help." Her eyes snap to mine. Be still my beating heart.
Awkwardly I clear my throat, "what with?"
Her eyes begin to study me once again, this time the distance or lack thereof makes me very nervous. She furrows her brows like she's trying to remember something, my heart rapidly pounding at my chest, wanting out, to make a beeline for the window and plummeting from the fortieth floor.
"You know..." She drawls, clicking her tongue. "You look really familiar. Like someone I went to school with."
I squeeze my eyes shut tightly and let out a disgruntled breath.
"Miss, uh-"
"Richards," she cuts in. "Summer Richards."
Someone get the defibrillator, my heart just flatlined.
"Miss Richards, please. What is the purpose of your visit?" I try my best attempt at hiding the wobble in my voice.
Eyeing me cautiously, she straightens in her seat; squaring her shoulders, "I need you to find someone for me. Money is no object."
