“I’ve experienced one or two of those winters myself,” I said. “I mean, I’ve visited them at least. I like to spend summer and fall here, but I’ve done some book signings in the city in winter.”
“Yes, I remember.”
She looked down at the stone and crushed shells that made up the path, seeming overly concerned with keeping an eye on her footing. Again, I got the strangest impression we’d met before yesterday.
Once we reached the sand and were walking side-by-side again, I studied her profile. “You look familiar to me. I thought so yesterday, too. This may sound strange, but have we met?”
Bonnie’s face flushed a bright pink.Interesting.
“Well, since I’m going to be asking you a lot of questions today, I suppose you’re entitled to one or two of your own.” Her eyes came up to meet mine then flitted away again. “And to an honest answer.”
“Oookay…” I was instantly intrigued. “So wehavemet.”
Maybe that was the reason she’d gotten so angry with me yesterday—I mean, other than my rude behavior and insults of course.
Maybe we’d crossed paths in some nightclub back when I used to go to those places.
Maybe, God forbid, I’d hit on her or something. I was sure we hadn’t slept together—no way I’d forget that. Not with a woman like her.
“So… this is kind of embarrassing,” she began. “No, ‘mortifying’ would be a more fitting word. But you did ask, and I don’t want to lie to you…”
“The suspense is killing me here, Bonnie,” I prompted when she paused.
Please tell me Ididn’tsleep with her and then totally forget about it.
Back in the early days of my fame and commercial success, there had been a sudden tidal wave of female attention, and I’d let it go to my head a little.
Okay, a lot. But then I’d settled down with Claudia. Since her there’d been no one.
“Well, I know you were in New York for a signing, because I went to your last one.”
“Oh. Whew. That’s all. I was starting to think it was something bad.”
“Well it wasn’tgood,” she said. “I think I scared you.”
“What? No. There’s no wayyouwould have scared me. Believe me, there are someinterestingpeople who come to those signings.”
“Yep, I’ll bet. And I was one of them.” She gave me a disbelieving head shake. “You really don’t remember me?”
“Wait—you’re not a stalker, are you?” I joked. “You don’t have the real Bonnie Hamelin, newspaper writer extraordinaire, tied up in a trunk somewhere, I hope?”
“Ha ha. No, this is the real me. The same me who went to your last signing, and when I finally got to the table, I was so nervous I babbled and then started crying.”
She dropped her face into her hands, covering it.
I laughed. “Is that all? That happens all the time.”
She peeked between her fingers with one eye. “Really?”
“Absolutely. And if I were ever to meet LeBron James, I’m sure I’d do the same thing. Believe me, Bonnie, that is nothing.”
“I didn’t tell you the worst of it.” She winced as she continued her confession. “I spilled my drink on you. It was this huge extra-tall hot chai tea. You were furious. You yelled and sent your bodyguards after me. I ran away. I was worried I might have...”
There her voice drifted off into nothingness, and her gaze slid down to the front of my jeans.
Oh. Wait a minute.A memory rose to the forefront of my mind.
A beautiful girl who’d started spouting words like a geyser the minute I spoke to her. A feeling of intense instant attraction. An impulse to ask for a last name and a number to go with that first name.