Anonymous

Anonymous by L.P. Dover





Prologue


Ellie



Every person has a story to tell. Some may be sweet with a happily ever after, but there are others that end in tragedy. Mine has yet to be finished.

My name is Elizabeth Kingston and this is where my story begins.





One





Ellie





“Just in time. I’m ready for you, girlie.”

Heart racing, I grab my chest and breathe a sigh of relief as the salon door shuts behind me. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”

Maggie slips her black smock on and swivels her chair around. Her smile is infectious. “No worries. I ran a little behind this afternoon anyway. Just got done about five minutes ago.”

Grinning wide, I set my purse on the floor and take a seat. The salon is an open-style room with three other hair stations, one of which is occupied by a lady with foils in her hair, reading a magazine.

Maggie Denison has been my hair stylist for the past eight years. You can just look at her dark, stylish, wavy hair and tell she knows what she’s doing. She’s the best in town. Not that I’m a glamorous person, but I love to keep my hair healthy, even if I do have to wear it up most of the time at the bakery.

She runs her hands through my hair and meets my reflection in the mirror. “What are we doing today? Maybe a few caramel highlights, like we did last year before summer?”

“Sounds good to me. Jake likes it when I get highlights.”

She snickers and shakes her head. “Your husband is so sweet.”

“Yes, he is,” Shayna agrees as she walks into the room, her bright blonde hair is in curls down her back. Her black heels clank on the floor as she goes to check on her client’s hair. “That’s why all the girls loved him in high school.”

“Oh, I know. I’ve seen his yearbooks,” I say. “He was Mr. Popular.”

Shayna and Jake had graduated together and now she cuts his hair. Jake and I hadn’t met until our college years through a mutual friend of ours. He had been an up and coming professional MMA fighter, but a motorcycle accident squashed all those dreams.

Shayna looks at me and smiles. “That’s because not only is he good looking, but he’s a great guy. He’s nice to everyone.”

That is one of the many reasons I love him. He’ll do anything for anybody if they need help. In fact, it’s because of him I was able to start up my own bakery. My parents were going to give me the money, but he refused to let them help. He’s very prideful.

Maggie mixes up my highlight cream in one of her bowls and begins on my hair. “Speaking of which, how’s the bakery coming along? Is business good this time of year?”

“It’s been good all year around,” I say, feeling thankful. “There are always orders coming in and we have tons of visitors every day. We keep everything stocked.”

Her stomach rumbles. “I need to come in there and get your red velvet cupcakes. Those things are the best.”

“Grandmother’s recipe,” I gloat. “She was an excellent baker. I learned everything from her.”

“Are you hiring anyone right now?”

I shake my head. “Not at the moment. Why? Do you know someone?”

She shrugs. “There are times when I get clients who are looking for work. I was just asking in case I could send someone your way.”

“I’ll let you know if I ever do. Vikki works with me full time, and then in the afternoons, her daughter and my two nieces come in. So far, I’ve been able to keep up with the people I have.”

Once she’s done putting the highlights in my hair, she hurries to the back to eat her lunch. Shayna finishes up with her client and sits in the chair across from me. “Hungry?” she asks. “I was thinking about grabbing some sushi down the road. I can bring you back some.”

I wave her off. “No, thanks. I’m cooking some of Jake’s favorites. I want to be hungry for it.”

“I bet,” she teases with a wink.

My phone dings with an incoming text. “Speaking of Jake. I bet this is him.”

Shayna pulls out her phone. “Girl, I hope you know how lucky you are. I keep telling Jake he needs to hook me up with one of his friends from work.”

Fiddling in my purse, I finally find my phone. “Yes,” I gasp excitedly. “He mentioned it the other day. He’ll find someone for you.”

When I look at the text, the number is local.

(xxx) xxx-6489: 31773?

“Is it a solicited dick pic?” Shayna asks, pretending to lean over to catch a peek.

I chuckle and shake my head. “No, you perv. I actually don’t know who this is.” I text the number back.

Me: Who is this?

(xxx) xxx-6489: I’m surprised you still have the same phone number after all these years.

My curiosity piques. I have had the same phone number since I was sixteen, when I first got my cell phone. There’s no telling who it is. I do a quick lookup of the number and it says it’s the number from a Sherwin Williams store, but according to the internet, it’s been closed for a while now.

Me: I’m sorry, but I don’t know who this is. I lost all my contacts when I switched phones.