Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 79(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 79(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
First, I need something to eat. After you get past the large hotel, you step into this small town that looks straight out of a movie. “The Munch Box,” I read aloud, looking at the sign outside a restaurant. “Yep, a small-town feel,” I mutter before walking in. I wonder if Mr. Suit will show up. Is he in town for business? Vacation? Does he work for the hotel? From my one stolen glance it’s clear he commands attention.
I step inside and take a seat, but I suddenly find myself not hungry. Grabbing an order of fries, I take them to go with a pop. Walking down the quiet streets, catching the attention from the locals as I snack, makes me nervous. When you live in a major city, no one stares unless they’re going to say something. Here, I feel eyes all over me. Do they not get a ton of visitors? They must. Their hotel is large, and it’s fully occupied—well, except the villas. Those babies are pricey.
I walk down to a less crowded area and sit down on a bench. My phone rings in my purse, so I set down my bag of fries and dig for the damn thing. By the time I pull it out, the caller hung up. I swipe my code to unlock it, only to have it ring again. It’s my mother. Of course. I should have known.
“What, Mother?”
“Is that any way to talk to your mother?”
“Depends. Did you cancel my hotel reservations?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” her voice jumps an octave, proving she’s a liar.
“You totally did. Where the hell did you think I’d sleep?” I shout into the phone as I feel my blood boil.
“You could come home.”
“Oh my fucking God,” I scream, hanging up the phone and tossing it in my bag before pulling out my tablet. I have to try to control my temper. This is supposed to be a relaxing vacation. Stalking toward the beach, I find myself going through an alleyway. Of course, going down the wrong way in a place I’ve never been. I take out my phone and hold it close just in case someone is lurking.
Seconds later, I’m clipped by a bicyclist. I fall to the ground and then another man helps me to my feet. I start to thank him when he cuts my purse. “Hey,” I shout. Going to give chase, I find that my knee’s throbbing, and what’s worse is that no one could see it since it happened in an isolated part right before the beach. “I can’t believe this,” I hiss, slamming my hands down at my thighs. I’ve lived in Chicago my entire life and have never been robbed. This vacation has sucked ass.
At least I still have my phone. It’s one thing I’ve learned: never carry everything together. Maybe I can call the airport to see if my luggage has arrived. Checking the phone, I notice my battery’s almost dead. I don’t have time to call and cancel anything before my battery dies. Ugh. This is total bullshit.
I’m so over Spring. It’s now the worst season and town. I hold back the tears I feel coming. I have to get away from this. My phone buzzes again, and it’s Charles. I should answer and ask for his help, but he told me not to go. My stepbrother believed it wasn’t safe to go alone and promised to take me on a vacation next month, but I was being stubborn because he’s always reminding me how much better my life would be with him. It’s been that way for years and I hate it, so I’ll suffer and figure something out.
I’m sure there’s got to be some charging ports. I’ve seen them at hotels before. I dip into the pocket of my dress and remember I have some spare cash in there.
“Now, where can I get a spare charger?” I look and think about it. There’s a local grocery store. I rush down the street, but then feel the pain in my knee again. Damn it, I walk gingerly to Spring Grocery, hoping they have one for extremely cheap. As soon as I get inside and find the section, I see I’m a dollar short. Fucking hell. I grab something to snack on at least because my nerves upset my stomach and I couldn’t finish my fries earlier.
Maybe I can find someone to help. People around here appear kind, but then again, the bike assholes looked nice too. Shit, let me not forget the registration desk chick. So far this small town has been the most unfriendly place I’ve ever been.
I don’t know where I’m going, so the beach seems like the most relaxing place. I power down my phone to save whatever little juice I have left and walk aimlessly for what feels like forever. “The view is gorgeous.” My body is feeling the exercise even though I normally do an hour of cardio every day.