Chapter Two
Early in the morning, Summer had woken up and sent a single message to Jackson.
SMG: No Clausens in the area—I asked around at work last Friday, and had my friend look into it. She has some connections.
JRJ: Thank you. Talk to you later?
SMG: Yeah.
JRJ: [photo attachment]
She clicked on the image. He’d taken to sending her random images of mountain lions. This photo was a beautiful shot of a large mountain lion running through the snow, paws kicking up flakes. She didn’t know where he found these images, but as an amateur photographer, she could appreciate the talent that had gone into taking them.
She went to work and spent the rest of the morning wishing she could get back to her phone. Exchanging messages with Jackson had been the highlight of her day so far.
As soon as she’d handed Mrs. Rochester her complimentary toothbrush, travel-sized tube of toothpaste, and dental floss, Summer ran from the office and back to the closet-sized break room to retrieve her purse.
A message was waiting for her on SocialBook.
JRJ: Thinking of you. This is me. [photo attachment]
Expecting another mountain lion, she clicked on the image.
This one wasn’t a mountain lion—it was a man. The shot was mostly of his face, a little bit of his chest included. He wore a faded red t-shirt, one of those that looked like they’d been well-worn into softness. His muscles stretched the fabric at the shoulders.
Who was she kidding—she wasn’t just looking at his muscles. It was his eyes that drew her—a bright blue, like the surface of Paris Lake on a beautiful, sunny day. His smile was wide and friendly, and he had the kind of cheekbones she expected to see on models, not average-sounding men who took an interest in her on SocialBook.
With shaking fingers, she closed the app and shoved her phone back in her purse.
Seconds later, it rang, so she fished it out again. Unknown number. Had Jackson figured out a way to call her? Would she mind terribly if he did? Well, obviously. That would be a creepy breach of privacy.
But she wouldn’t mind hearing his voice.
She shook her head, trying to make a decision while the phone still rang. Too late—it went to voicemail.
She grabbed her insulated lunch bag and walked out to the courtyard behind the dentist’s office. The area was surrounded by other businesses in an L shaped-building—a coffee shop, an insurance office, the dentist, and a comic book store. Because Summer was taking an early lunch today, nobody else was out here yet.
Taking a deep breath, she opened up her voicemail app and clicked the play button. A nasal, angry voice spoke. “This message is for Summer M. Grieb. You have several payments past due on your CivicAmerican card. If you do not pay your balance, you will face legal action. Please call us at 1-800-555-2845 to resolve this issue.”
Summer sighed. Well, it wasn’t Jackson, that was for sure. Messages like this one were the very reason Summer had resolved to remain single. One boyfriend could certainly ruin a woman for any other men…and not in a good way.
She texted her lawyer friend, Becca. I’ve got another one for you, and she forwarded the voicemail so Becca could listen to it.
Her phone rang again immediately, with Becca’s phone number flashing. Summer looked longingly at her lunch bag, but answered the call. Becca was doing so much for her, the least Summer could do was pick up the phone.
“Hey.”
“What the actual fuck,” Becca said. “There’s another one?”
“Yeah. I hadn’t even heard of CivicAmerican.”
“If we ever find that guy, I swear….”
“I know.” Summer was so tired of being angry.
“Anyway,” Becca said, “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry about a thing, okay? And come out with me on Friday. I just landed a new client and I want to celebrate.”
That was what Summer loved about Becca. She could turn an invitation into something that even Summer couldn’t refuse. If she’d made the date about cheering Summer up, Summer would have refused. But by saying it was for Becca to celebrate, Becca pretty much guaranteed that Summer had to do it.
“You’re a really great attorney,” Summer said.
Becca laughed. “So you’re coming?”
“You know I can’t say no.”
“Whee! Get your glad rags on—we’ll paint the town!”
After hanging up, Summer had just enough time to bolt down her sandwich and hustle back into the office.
“Dr. Farish’s 11:30 is here,” the receptionist told Summer. “Greg Jones.”
Not even a chance to breathe and push aside thoughts of random credit cards being started in her name. “Thanks, I’ll take him to a room.”
Summer stowed her things, checked her scrubs for crumbs and her teeth for residual food. Nothing would be worse than a dental hygienist with food stuck in her teeth. Then she walked out to find Greg.
He followed her to his chair and sat down dutifully. “You worked on my teeth last time,” he said, smiling.
“Did I?”
She got out the hand mirror and scaler and began removing the plaque from Greg’s teeth. She focused on the satisfying scrape of the scaler against enamel. Taking the tools out of his mouth, she said, “Turn your head to the left a little, please.”
He turned his head. “I’ve been working up the nerve to ask you out.”
Summer froze. Her mind raced. If she could just get the scaler and mirror back in his mouth, they wouldn’t have to have this conversation. But she could hardly pry his lips apart.
“Um,” she said.
“I guess I should ask if you’re single, first,” he said. “And, well, I’m interested in you, if you’re free. Maybe we could grab a coffee sometime…?”
Summer cleared her throat. “Thanks, but I just got out of a relationship”—six months ago—”and I’m not quite ready to start dating again.”
“Oh.” He gave her a weak smile, his face too brilliantly illuminated by the op light. “Well, when you’re ready, let me know. Ha, well, I guess I’ll be back in six months for my next cleaning.”
She gave an awkward laugh and waited, tools raised.
“Oh,” he said again. “Right.” He opened his mouth wide.
Summer returned to her work, wondering if she’d ever feel like dating again. Likely not. After all, she was happy alone. Free to go where she wanted, when she wanted. No risk of someone stealing her information or identity…or her heart.