Read Online Perfect Timing by Laura Spinella - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Laura Spinella
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and money, lots of money. He didn’t stay long after that, telling Aidan that his handshake was as good as a signed contract. He’d be in touch. He gave Aidan another business card, telling him to call if he needed anything in the meantime, anything at all.
It was the moment Aidan dreamt of his entire life, Isabel forcing down
“Don’t go!”
while summoning
“Ohmigosh, I’m so happy for you!”
She just stood, blankly staring. Trumping her Zen-like dance of clarity was money
and
opportunity, the night turning into a one-way ticket out of Catswallow and her life. The future flashed through Isabel’s head:
Aidan
gets his dream. I never make it out of here.
Years from tonight she’d chaperone a gala—the highlight of her year—accompanied by her flak-jacket-wearing husband, the manager of Goodyear Tires. The one Trey Stanton introduced her to. His occupation wouldn’t be terribly obvious that night, having scrubbed the grease from under his nails and wearing his good short-sleeve dress shirt. The one without his name embroidered above the pocket. “Hey babe,” he’d say, grabbing her ass, “didn’t you used to know that guy?” Aidan would make a guest appearance, arriving as he lit cigars with hundred-dollar bills, the voluptuous flavor of the month hanging on his arm. He would look at Isabel, aghast, snapping his fingers as if he couldn’t quite recall her name.
The music stopped, Isabel shaking her head, trying to dislodge the future. Standing at the edge of the dance floor, she looked at Aidan. She was sure he’d forgotten Catswallow’s gala, certainly any moment they were on the verge of sharing before Fitz stepped up and realigned his universe. Aidan let out a howl like a crazed wolf, swinging her into the air. “Isabel, do you have any idea what this means?” A palpable electric current pulsed through him. No doubt you could see him glow from Birmingham. While happiness was hard to feign, it was impossible not to feel something. He was ecstatic. Isabel smiled, reaching for congratulatory words. They were there; she just needed a minute to get them out. As their wicked roller-coaster ride came to a jerky halt, Aidan’s expression grew serious. He bent forward, snatching Isabel up into a ferocious kiss. It was incredibly soft and powerful, the absence of the sticky sweetness of a watermelon Jolly Rancher not an issue. For a moment she was caught up in the kiss. It was as if Catswallow were raffling off dreams and Aidan and Isabel held every winning number. But like an unexpected suitor, apprehension cut in. It silenced a force that was moving with the power of a tsunami. Isabel pushed him away. The last thing she wanted was for Aidan to kiss her because she was the closest pair of lips. Isabel didn’t want to be the party kiss or, now, the
ain’t-life-grand
kiss. If Aidan was going to kiss her, it had to be because kissing Isabel was the only thing on his mind. She refused to be his exclamation point. That job belonged to every other girl in the room. Isabel’s desire not to be
one of them
exceeded her desire for him. If that was all he wanted, let Aidan Roycroft kiss the flavor of the month. She would not settle. Without a backward glance, or a congratulatory word, Isabel disappeared into a papier-mâché world, slipping out the side door of the Catswallow VFW.
CHAPTER FIVE
Catswallow, Alabama
I SABEL FINAGLED A RIDE HOME WITH KYLE MARSH AND HIS DATE. She held it together, even after Kyle informed her that an evening with him would not have ended like this. He had a point. Isabel said to drop her off at the entrance to Fountainhead. She’d walk the half mile to the trailer. In truth, she didn’t want to take the dress off, the distance her only excuse to wear it a few minutes longer. The shoes she gladly forfeited, realizing her subconscious was a pushy ass. Isabel had chosen the stilt-like torturous things so if she and Aidan were to dance, or anything more, she’d be the perfect height.
It was the moment Aidan dreamt of his entire life, Isabel forcing down
“Don’t go!”
while summoning
“Ohmigosh, I’m so happy for you!”
She just stood, blankly staring. Trumping her Zen-like dance of clarity was money
and
opportunity, the night turning into a one-way ticket out of Catswallow and her life. The future flashed through Isabel’s head:
Aidan
gets his dream. I never make it out of here.
Years from tonight she’d chaperone a gala—the highlight of her year—accompanied by her flak-jacket-wearing husband, the manager of Goodyear Tires. The one Trey Stanton introduced her to. His occupation wouldn’t be terribly obvious that night, having scrubbed the grease from under his nails and wearing his good short-sleeve dress shirt. The one without his name embroidered above the pocket. “Hey babe,” he’d say, grabbing her ass, “didn’t you used to know that guy?” Aidan would make a guest appearance, arriving as he lit cigars with hundred-dollar bills, the voluptuous flavor of the month hanging on his arm. He would look at Isabel, aghast, snapping his fingers as if he couldn’t quite recall her name.
The music stopped, Isabel shaking her head, trying to dislodge the future. Standing at the edge of the dance floor, she looked at Aidan. She was sure he’d forgotten Catswallow’s gala, certainly any moment they were on the verge of sharing before Fitz stepped up and realigned his universe. Aidan let out a howl like a crazed wolf, swinging her into the air. “Isabel, do you have any idea what this means?” A palpable electric current pulsed through him. No doubt you could see him glow from Birmingham. While happiness was hard to feign, it was impossible not to feel something. He was ecstatic. Isabel smiled, reaching for congratulatory words. They were there; she just needed a minute to get them out. As their wicked roller-coaster ride came to a jerky halt, Aidan’s expression grew serious. He bent forward, snatching Isabel up into a ferocious kiss. It was incredibly soft and powerful, the absence of the sticky sweetness of a watermelon Jolly Rancher not an issue. For a moment she was caught up in the kiss. It was as if Catswallow were raffling off dreams and Aidan and Isabel held every winning number. But like an unexpected suitor, apprehension cut in. It silenced a force that was moving with the power of a tsunami. Isabel pushed him away. The last thing she wanted was for Aidan to kiss her because she was the closest pair of lips. Isabel didn’t want to be the party kiss or, now, the
ain’t-life-grand
kiss. If Aidan was going to kiss her, it had to be because kissing Isabel was the only thing on his mind. She refused to be his exclamation point. That job belonged to every other girl in the room. Isabel’s desire not to be
one of them
exceeded her desire for him. If that was all he wanted, let Aidan Roycroft kiss the flavor of the month. She would not settle. Without a backward glance, or a congratulatory word, Isabel disappeared into a papier-mâché world, slipping out the side door of the Catswallow VFW.
CHAPTER FIVE
Catswallow, Alabama
I SABEL FINAGLED A RIDE HOME WITH KYLE MARSH AND HIS DATE. She held it together, even after Kyle informed her that an evening with him would not have ended like this. He had a point. Isabel said to drop her off at the entrance to Fountainhead. She’d walk the half mile to the trailer. In truth, she didn’t want to take the dress off, the distance her only excuse to wear it a few minutes longer. The shoes she gladly forfeited, realizing her subconscious was a pushy ass. Isabel had chosen the stilt-like torturous things so if she and Aidan were to dance, or anything more, she’d be the perfect height.
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