Read Online Beautiful Musician by Sheri Whitefeather - Free Book Online Page B

the green dress and gold sandals that I’m supposed to be
meeting?”
    I smiled. He’d just repeated what I’d
told him about myself. I turned around, intending to reply, “No,
you must be looking for someone else,” but those silly words died
in my throat.
    All I could do was stare blankly at
him.
    He was tall, about six
feet, and powerfully built, with piercing eyes and shoulder-length
hair. At first glance, his hair could be mistaken for black, but
was actually a dark shade of brown. His Native American heritage
seemed obvious, chiseled into the strong, bold angles of his face.
He was exactly as
I’d described him to Abby when we were kids. But Duncan couldn’t be
him. The warrior wasn’t real.
    Not real. Not real. Not
real .
    “ Vanessa?”
    He spoke my name, his voice now giving
me a chill. Was I imagining him? Was this my introduction into
schizophrenia? Was my biggest fear coming true? Was I like Abby
now?
    “ Are you okay?” he
asked.
    I didn’t reply. I just kept staring.
Unblinking. Unmoving.
    He appeared to be searching my frozen
expression, concern evident in the depth of his eyes. “I already
got us a booth. Do you need to sit down? I can wait for your
order.”
    I struggled to take in my
surroundings. Did anyone else see him? Or was I standing there like
a loon, interacting with a hallucination?
    I couldn’t very well ask the employees
or other patrons if they saw him. I would look like the nutcase I
very well might be.
    “ I have to go,” I
said.
    “ Go where?”
    “ Out to my car. I left my
phone in the front seat.” It was the only lie I could think of, and
I needed an excuse to get away from him.
    I dashed outside. This wasn’t how my
meeting with him was supposed to unfold. He was supposed to be an
ally, not the guy who sent me over the edge.
    I unlocked my car and climbed inside,
breathing as deeply as I could. What in God’s name was I supposed
to do?
    Somehow, someway, I needed to figure
this out.
    I racked my brain for an answer. Maybe
I should call Linda and ask her about Duncan. Really? And what good
would that do? What if I had created Linda and the entire online
support group? What if none of this was real? I knew how powerful
Abby’s hallucinations were. If I was doing the same thing, then
there was no way to prove or disprove a thing.
    I glanced at the building
I’d just exited. Even if I’d manufactured the support group, The
Coffee Shell was an actual place. I wasn’t sitting at home,
imagining all of
this.
    Was I?
    I couldn’t be. I refused
to believe I was that crazy. So I considered my options. I had one of two choices.
Cower in fear or go back inside and talk to Duncan.
    I picked the latter, but before I got
out of my car, I checked my appearance in the rearview mirror.
Thankfully, I looked just fine. Healthy and sane. No one would be
able to tell what was going on inside my head.
    Upon my return, I found Duncan waiting
off to the side of the front counter. In his hand he had a cup of
coffee that I assumed was mine. And now that I had a less chaotic
moment to study him, I noticed details that didn’t match my
creation of him: his ears were pierced with small black gauges, and
both wrists were inked with tribal-looking tattoos. How could he be
the warrior if I hadn’t given him those things?
    “ Did you get your phone?”
he asked.
    “ Yes, and I’m sorry I
panicked like that.”
    “ It’s okay. I wouldn’t
want anything to happen to my phone, either.” He extended the
coffee. “I picked it up for you when they called your
name.”
    “ Thank you.” I tried not
to be overwhelmed by his beauty. Or with the memory of Abby telling
me that I was supposed to kiss the warrior someday. Even if Duncan
wasn’t him, even with the inclusion of the piercings and tattoos,
he still unnerved me. “You should have warned me about how handsome
you are.”
    He broke into an instant laugh. “Who
says things like that? You’re a funny one, Vanessa.”
    If he only knew how