Escaping Reality (The Secret Life of Amy Bensen #1)(40)

The air shifts in the bathroom and I push off the wall. I didn’t hear the door open but I hadn’t heard it at the museum either. My hand goes to my throat and I do not dare breathe. I listen and I do not hear anything.

Wait. Do I? Time seems to stand still and I can’t seem to make myself move.

What if I go outside the stall and there is another note? What if I have to run?

The cell phone in my purse starts to ring and I jerk at the sound. It’s Liam. Of course, it’s Liam. He is the only one who has my number. How long have I been standing here? I shake myself and open the stall, steeling myself for whatever I find outside. Eager to just know what waits on me, I rush forward and stop dead in my tracks as I bring the sinks into view.

“Meg? What are you doing here?”

She whirls around from where she stands at the sink primping her long blond hair to lie on her shoulders, a contrast to her short red dress.

“Oh my gosh. Amy! What are you doing here?”

“I…” My phone starts ringing again.

“Oh good.” She lights up. “You got your phone working. I can’t believe we’re both here.”

“I…yes. Very small world.”

“That’s what I love about this little area of Cherry Creek. You can live, eat, shop, and play here and get to know everyone like it’s a small town.

Only we have Chanel and Gucci in this small town. We’re the high-society chicks. Well, not that I can afford that kind of thing, but maybe I’ll find me a sugar daddy.”

I cringe considering Liam and his billionaire status and think that while her comment is playful, he must deal with real-life money chasers.

“Are you on a date?”

“My boss brought me. And he’s certainly a hot property himself.

What about you?”

“Yes. A date. Who I should get back to.”

She grabs her purse and pulls out her phone. “Let me grab your number before we forget.”

I can’t get out of this. Dang it. I remove my phone from my purse and glance at the numbers on the screen and my throat goes dry. One is from Liam. The other is unknown.





Chapter Twelve


I stare at the unknown number and my mind races. It could be a wrong number. It has to be. No one has this number but Liam and my handler has never called me. That’s not true, I remind myself and my mind flashes back.

The phone is ringing and I jerk to a sitting position. There is no one left to call me. No one I love. It has to be one of them. Someone is alive. This is all a mistake. I grab the headset and my hand shakes so hard I all but

drop the receiver. “Dad?”

“Listen and listen quickly, Amy,” a stranger says. “They are coming for you. Get up and get dressed and get the hell to the back door of the hospital. I’ll be in a cab waiting for you.”

“What? Who are you?”

“There isn’t time. Get the hell out of the f*cking bed. Now!”

“Okay, ready,” Meg announces. “What’s the number?”

I blink through spots, and damn it, my eyes are prickling and my forehead pinching. Meg waves her phone in front of me. “I’ll type it in my phone so I can’t lose it.”

“Right,” I croak and try to smile, though I imagine I look like I just swallowed a rock the lump in my throat is so big. Somehow, I lift my phone and punch in the screen to see my number, then read it to her.

“Perfect,” she declares, and if she notices I’m rattled, she doesn’t show it. “I’ll call you tomorrow and we’ll make a date.”

“Great. Yes.”

She heads towards the door and I follow her into the hallway, where she has halted, a stunned look on her face. And I know why. Liam is leaning on the wall, looking to her, I am sure, like some sort of magazine model or romance hero who has miraculously popped off the pages of a novel. His eyes meet mine and I feel the connection inside and out, radiating. To me, Liam is what he has seemed since our plane ride. Salve on an open, aching wound.

He pushes off the wall the instant he sees me and pulls me to him. “I was worried about you.”

“He’s with you?” Meg asks from behind me, and there is no missing the shock etched in her voice. I refuse to read into it.

Liam answers for me. “Yes. I’m with her.”

Meg whistles and I turn in Liam’s arms, comforted by the way his hand settles on my stomach and pulls my back to his chest. “Amy, honey,”

Meg declares, “I need to know where you shop. I’ll call you tomorrow.” She darts down the hallway and I stare after her, fighting the urge to follow her to ask her boss about my new boss, unsure I am steady enough to even try.

“She’ll call you tomorrow?” Liam asks, and I turn to him.

“She’s the secretary at the leasing office. She wants to do coffee or drinks.” My hand settles on the hard wall of his chest and warmth travels up my arms and over my chest and shoulders.

“Then why do you look like you saw a ghost?”

I laugh but it sounds choked. “I guess ghosts are like lies. They swim like sharks all around me.” What was intended as a joke holds so much truth that I am shocked I have allowed such a telling statement to fall from my lips. I am even more shocked that I cannot seem to regret it.