The morning was disappointingly hot already. She had taken her book out to the chaise in hopes of sitting outside, listening to the birds while she read. Just as she was about to go back inside, a cool breeze convinced her to stay a little longer. She smiled. This moment wasn’t lost after all.
She started reading.
Paul stepped closer, crowding the small space between them. Bekah’s shoulders drew in, her fingers tightening around the edge of the desk.
“I don’t expect you to understand,” he said, not even bothering to look up from the file in his hand. “Details tend to overwhelm people in your position.”
Evana stopped.
Her eyes flicked back up to the paragraph, just to make sure she read it correctly.
“I don’t expect you to understand. Details tend to overwhelm people in your position.” Evana repeated under her breath, reading it again. Then, louder, “Oh that is absurd. You are an idiot.”
“I am what?”
She froze.
Her eyes slowly lifted from the page.
“No,” she whispered, already shaking her head. “No, no, no. That did not just happen.”
“You seem quite certain for someone who has yet to meet me,” the voice said again, closer this time.
She turned her head.
And when she turned it back…
He was there.
Exactly as she had pictured him.
She closed her eyes tight, then opened. He wasn’t with her, she was with him.
There he stood, but now even closer.
He leaned in too close. She could feel his breath. She refrained from stepping back. Heat was rising in her.
Her eyes did not shift. She leaned in this time.
She put her hands on her hips. “The audacity.”
He laughed.
The heat in her rose even more. And for a minute, neither moved.
Then she took a deep intentional breath.
“Paul,” she said more calmly, “you are too close. Please step back.”
He laughed again, but this time, he complied.
He looked away from her and shook his head. “You women are so emotional.”
Exasperated, she said, “You have to be a created person. No real person would be this ignorant.”
“Lady, are you crazy? I am as real as the pages of the book.”
She was perplexed. He seemed to know he was written and still thought he was real. More than ridiculous, he was a research project.
Well, he isn’t wrong. Books are real, she thought.
She caught herself. No. Not going down his rabbit hole.
Feeling disoriented, she placed her hand against the wall.
“I am so confused,” she said.
“Yes, I definitely agree,” Paul said pompously.
She’d spent enough time on this jerk, she thought.
She looked around the room, urgency building.
There it was. The exit sign.
She started to run.
A strong grip held her arm.
She turned, ready to hit Paul if she had to, but…
It was Bekah.
Breathing hard, looking up at her with wide, desperate eyes.
“Please, Ma’am… take me with you. Don’t leave me with… him.”
May be continued…
Would you take Bekah?
What’s behind the door?
Does she get out?
