Read The Anomaly Online

Authors: J.A. Cooper

Tags: #novella series, #romance novels, #short novel, #romantic thriller, #new adult romance, #series, #series fiction, #new adult fiction, #romance fiction, #new adult

The Anomaly (6 page)

I had originally booked my ticket for mid-August, but I changed the ticket to give myself another week with Nathan. That week rushes ahead, pulling us along. Too soon, Nathan and I are on our last date before I leave. I smile when he pulls into the parking lot of the same pizza parlor where we met.

I turn to him and smile. “You’re so thoughtful.”

“Well, this place brought someone beautiful into my life.”

I love you.
I want to say it, but I hold back.

Nathan rubs my hand. “Let’s get some food.”

We sit at a table for two this time. A waitress is soon at our table, getting our order. She comes back quickly with our drinks.

After she leaves, Nathan pulls out a small envelope and hands it to me. “I wanted to give you this before we start eating. I know people don’t write anymore, but I wanted to give you something on paper. Open it on the plane, and I’ll cross my fingers that you’ll come back.”

I can’t help but smile. “Thanks. Of course I’ll come back.”

Nathan smiles back.

“I haven’t gotten you anything—”

Nathan shakes his head. “Oh no, you don’t have to. I didn’t give you that for you to give me something back. It’s just to let you know that I’ve enjoyed this summer.”

I tilt my head. “Best summer eh-vah.”

We both laugh. Nathan tells me about his day and the encouraging phone call he received from his dad. He’d told him that with or without a painting, he knew his son was a success.

I place my hand over my heart. “That’s so nice, Nate.”

He nods. The waitress comes with our pizza, and I bite into a hot slice. A string of cheese stretches between the pizza and my mouth.

“This is so good,” I mumble. “We’ll come back the next time I’m in town, because I won’t be eating this stuff when I’m back in New York.”

Nathan chews and looks off in the distance. “Yeah, but you don’t know when. One modeling job can lead to another, and you’ll become booked up for a while.” He looks sad.

In that moment, I know he cares about me. I sigh but don’t say anything, because I know there’s truth in what he’s said.

~

N
athan, Dad, and Linda are all downstairs when I come down with my purse and a light jacket. Dad’s already carried my suitcase and carry-on bag into his SUV.

“I think I have everything,” I say.

Linda puts on her aviators. “Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

“Well, let’s get this show on the road.” Dad claps. “You know I hate good-byes.”

Linda gives him a pat on the back.

We ride to the airport together. Nathan and I hold hands in the backseat, our shoulders touching. Dad and Linda talk to each other about how their businesses are going, but Nathan and I don’t talk much. Nathan’s in his usual good mood though, and he intermittently rubs his thumb over my hand.

“I heard about what happened,” Dad says to Nathan. “Sorry about that.”

Nathan nods, then shrugs. “What can I say? At least it only cost me thirteen dollars.”

Dad chuckles, and Linda laughs. I look at Nathan, admiring his sense of humor.

We hug each other after I check in, but before I venture through the security.

“I love you, Shayna.” Dad tightens his hug before letting me go.

“I love you too, Dad.”

Linda rubs my back when she hugs me, and Nathan holds me the tightest.

“See ya, kiddo.” He smiles, looking into my eyes.

“Okay.”

He gives me a light kiss on the lips while Linda whistles and nudges Dad.

Nathan steps back and places his hands in his pockets. “Have a safe trip, Shayna.”

I nod.

“You know
your
room’s always open.” Linda winks.

“So it’s not just the guest room?” I tease.

“Well, whenever you’re back, if there’s a guest, we’ll just have to give them the boot.” Linda throws up her chin.

Dad, Nathan, and I laugh.

“We’re going now,” Dad says. He tips his chin toward the line on the other side of the automatic doors. “The line’s getting longer.”

“Okay.” I sigh, wanting to make my time with them last as long as possible. “Bye for now.”

Chapter 12

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I
sit in the waiting area of Gate 8. Thankfully, I have less than a two-hour wait. I listen to some music on my iPod, but then I take out the ear buds and get up to buy a snack. I’m tempted to buy a bag of potato chips, but I’m working soon, so I opt for trail mix and a bottle of water. I go back to my gate, but the seat I was in is now taken, and I have to look for another chair. I see two that are right next to each other, so I scan the people around them. They look okay, not weird or anything, so I go and sit down.

Near me are a woman and a teenage girl who’s probably her daughter. Both are looking down at their phones. A middle-aged man near them is dozing off. His hands are folded over his chest, and his neck and shoulders are slightly tilted. He’ll probably wake up soon, when his body needs a bed. A man in his thirties types away on his laptop. I look at them, wondering where they might be heading and if New York’s their final destination.

A cell phone blasts a country song. It belongs to the man with the laptop, who pulls it out of his pocket in one fluid movement. He holds it to his ear. “O’Brien, buddy!” He laughs. “Yeah, I’ve been waiting on your call.” He laughs again.

I turn to see if anyone else is watching him. He isn’t talking quietly, but everyone seems to be minding their business. I decide to do the same and take a magazine out of my purse. I like to see what fashion’s being shown.

“Yeah, that’s way cool.”

I look at the man, but this time, I roll my eyes and turn back to my magazine.

“I’m heading to New York. April’s wedding’s the day after tomorrow. I told her fiancé he’d better be good to my sister.” Laughter. “Well, you know how it is. It’s good for in-laws to know that someone’s family has their back.”

I look up and see him nodding.

“Yeah... yeah. No, I got a new key. Yeah, sorry about that. I forgot to mention it to your wife, but yeah, I was able to get back in my house. Though it took about twelve hours. What else can you do when you don’t have a spare key to your home?”

I frown, looking at the stranger with interest. He’s about to look my way, so I quickly avert my eyes back to my magazine.

“I found a locksmith online. You can send them a picture of a key, and they’ll cut it.” He chuckles. “Yes, I’m serious—today’s technology.”

He continues talking, but I no longer hear him. I feel a rush of heat dash through my body. My heart races and I’m confused. I’m not sure if what I’m feeling, what my intuition’s telling me, is to be believed. Could William have gotten into Nathan’s house with a picture of a key? Did I unwittingly give him the key to the prize he’s been after? I shake my head.

He couldn’t have.

As if time’s going in slow motion, a surge of different emotions pull at me. I only know that minutes have passed when the gate attendant announces on the intercom that the flight to JFK airport is ready to board.

Telling Nathan what may have happened, how his painting may have gotten stolen, scares me. He warned me to stay away from William, but did I listen? No. I didn’t see the harm in it.

I’m scared that telling him the truth may ruin any possibility we have at a long-term relationship. The logistics of my job can always be worked out. It’s not like I have to model throughout the whole year. I can take jobs a couple months at a time. I could even take bookings from past clients who want to work with me again and maintain an income. But how do I tell Nathan that a picture I gave William may have given him the key to Nathan’s home and access to the painting?

I sit in my first-class seat on the airplane and pinch myself because the lines of reality seem blurry. Is it possible? I know what that man said on the phone is true. I feel the truth pulse through my body.

Did I naively pierce Nathan’s heart by trusting William?

The plane feels cold because the air vent above me is set on full blast, but I don’t turn the knob that’ll turn off the air. Instead, I stuff my hands into the pockets of my sweatshirt and feel something like paper. I pull the paper out of my pocket and see that it’s the envelope Nathan gave me at the pizza parlor. I’d put it there, wanting to open it when he told me to, but I had almost forgotten about it entirely. I stare at it for a few seconds before I open it.

It’s not a prewritten greeting card where all he had to do was sign his name below sentimental words. He took the time to write a note inside a blank card.

––––––––

D
ear Shayna,

You have been a ray of light since we met. If I was going to war, I’d want you by my side. Your Truly, Nathan Theodor.

––––––––

R
eading these words makes my heart ache. How will Nathan feel if he learns the truth? I feel as if my heart is reaching out to him and crumbling because I’ve let down someone I love. I sigh and close my eyes.
Something has to be done
. I know that giving William that photo was the first domino falling against a row of others.

I stare out the window. Who would’ve thought I’d get hustled, of all places, in my home state of Missouri? I’m embarrassed that William tricked me. Maybe I was too naïve, but how could I have known that a simple picture would lead to millions walking out Nathan’s door? I twist uncomfortably in my seat.

I have to tell him what happened.
I know he might not react well. I grip my hair and shake my head. What will become of us? Can we have a relationship after this? I really want to tell Nathan what I think may have happened. The only way Nathan can possibly get the painting back is if I tell him. He’ll be able to find out from someone, somehow, whether or not William is still in possession of it.

I no longer feel cold. The more I think about William tricking me, the more I fume. My skin feels hot with anger. I gaze at the clouds outside my window.
There has to be a way to get that painting back.
But first, I have to get through this job.

Then I’ll return to him.

Note from J.A. Cooper

––––––––

I
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PREVIEW
Just to Be With You − The Instructor
Chapter 1

I
’m already ten minutes late. Thinking that I have at least fifteen minutes to dress, I take my time, but the parking lot’s full when I pull up in my green Acura. I drive around looking to see if I missed a spot. But finding a parking spot near the Hollins Building turns out to be trickier than expected. I check the clock on my dashboard. Dang it. I drive around some more, hoping maybe there’s an open spot I didn’t see or that someone will pull out. Neither happens, and I end up having to drive over to the next parking lot closest to Hollins. All of the university’s English classes are held there. I grab my messenger bag from the passenger seat and click the button to lock my car.

I take in a deep breath and begin to power-walk. I’m not wearing sneakers, and my shoes have a bit of a heel, so I don’t want to run and possibly fall. At this rate, it’ll take me about four minutes to reach Hollins and another minute to find room 201.

But I decide to pace myself and run up the stairs when I reach the building. I prefer to make a good impression on my professors from day one. I mean, it’s better than standing out in a bad way by being late. I’m breathing heavier than I’d like to as I push open the classroom door. I stop short. Carter is standing in the front of the room.

His expression tells me that, like me, he’s surprised. He drinks me in with his eyes. Those green eyes that make me melt—not only because green’s my favorite color, it’s also because of the way that man looks at me with them.

He’s wearing a beige sweater zipped up over a white T-shirt, but I can still make out his lean, muscular frame. It’s easy to tell that he’s the athletic type. I immediately want to go up to him, but I’m not sure why he’s even here. Instead, I look around for an empty seat in the classroom, taking one in the back row. Though a few students in the class are looking at me, I try to move as quiet as possible.

I glance at Carter, but don’t want to tempt myself and get too close right now. I sit down. We watch each other. Carter smiles and moves closer to the desk at the front of the classroom. He picks up a paper and pencil from the desk and makes a mark on the paper.

“Well, it seems like the last student’s here.” Carter looks up at me. “Nice of you to join us, Leigh.”

Chapter 2

W
eeks Earlier

I’ve wanted out of my relationship with Todd for the longest time. He’s the world’s biggest moocher, and I’m tired of it. The only reason I’ve kept on in our relationship is that he’s become something of a habit. And habits are comfortable things. But at this point, the fact that we’ve been dating since high school doesn’t matter to me anymore.

I was a freshman and he was a sophomore when he first asked me out, so it’s been almost seven long years. Who would have thought it back then...shy little Leigh dating one of the most popular guys in school, one of the stars of the baseball team. But we lasted through those years, even after he started college a year earlier than me.

I sometimes wonder if people just “assumed” we’d be together forever. I know that’s what I thought back then, when I was more naive and innocent. Now that I’m living in “the real world”...my own apartment, a part-time job, plans for the future...and have matured, Todd and I don’t seem so ideal as a couple anymore.

It’s tough enough trying to keep up decent grades in school while working twenty hours a week. So it doesn’t help when Todd eats up my groceries and uses my expensive skin care products. He even had the nerve to tell me once to buy more of my pricey body butter, while his bottle of lotion sat on the dresser. I mean, he already graduated from Westfield University and I’m going to be a senior there soon. So I don’t see why it’s so hard for him to contribute more. Todd’s lame excuse is that he has a low-paying, entry-level job. One of the things that grates on my nerves, though, is the fact that he thinks it’s the company’s fault that he doesn’t have a higher-paying, more prestigious title. It has nothing to do with the fact that he won’t go in one minute early or stay one minute late or, that he does only what he needs to do. Todd definitely lacks ambition and initiative.

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