Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 29279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
There’s a vibrating noise and at first, I try to ignore it. But it’s impossible and annoyed, I jerk my head up. What the hell?
Still sleeping, Tom doesn’t feel me get out of bed. I survey the room and my eyes alight upon the pile of clothes on a chair. Sure enough, the sound is coming from Tom’s shorts pocket. Heart hammering, I feel myself go pale. I already sense what I’m going to find. Has he been lying to me all along?
Sure enough, I stick my hand into the pocket and pull out a cell phone. What the hell? He said there were no phones on the island! But as I stare, it vibrates again in my hand once more, and a message appears.
“Tom, this is a mistake. I can’t just let you ruin your career. You know that girl is going to make a media circus out of you.”
“Tom, seriously, get off the island and CALL ME.”
“Tom, as your agent and friend, listen to me. COME BACK TO LA.”
Staring down at the little green messages, I look over at the man sleeping in bed. For the first time since arriving, I feel afraid. I can’t go back to bed because he’s a stranger. Not only that, but he’s been feeding me full of lies! If he really lives in Los Angeles, then what else is true?
I walk out into the living room and look around. There are no pictures of him with friends or family, and in fact, no personal items at all.
“I’m so stupid,” I say out loud to myself.
Quietly, I open the front door of the guest house, tiptoeing out into the moonlight. It takes everything I have not to cry and run hysterically off towards the water. After all, where am I going to go? I’m on an island somewhere in the middle of the Caribbean. How would I even make an escape?
I look up at the large main house, sitting in the shadows above me. It looks huge and forbidding at this time of night, but I grit my teeth. Maybe it holds answers.
Slowly, I walk up the path to the mansion. Fortunately, it’s illuminated by solar lanterns, so I don’t trip and fall. I get to a sliding glass door and pull it experimentally, expecting it to be locked. Instead, it opens soundlessly and walking inside, I flip a wall switch, throwing the space into light.
Looking around, I gasp. This is where all his pictures and personal items are. Photos of Tom and his friends and family are everywhere. There are images of him deep sea fishing, playing golf and flying a plane. There’s a military graduation photo and a picture of him with a beautiful dark-haired woman, their arms around one another. By a large glass case are awards and movie posters. I move in for a closer look.
Tom Masters is: Agent One.
Academy Award Winning Actor Tom Masters in War Eagle Down.
This Is It! Tom Masters in the role of a lifetime.
I stare, dumbstruck. The man I just slept with is evidently a movie star, and as I stare at the posters, dread fills my heart. Why didn’t he tell me? Suddenly, there’s a sound from behind.
“Brynn,” says a low voice.
I don’t turn around. I can’t.
“So you’re just a guy who takes care of the island, huh?” I say, my voice shaking.
He’s quiet for a second.
“I do take care of the island. I never lied about that. I just happen to own the island as well.”
Anger shoots through me.
“Are you serious?” I snap, my voice rising. “Do you really think that’s an adequate explanation?”
I turn then, and he’s standing in his boxers, looking disheveled and beautiful and dejected.
“I know, you’re right.”
My hands go on my hips as I shoot him an accusatory look.
“Who are you, Tom? Seriously?”
He sighs.
“My name is Tom Masters. I’m an actor.”
My brain is whirling and I stumble to a chair and sit. I don’t know what to say, I don’t even know where to start.
“But why lie? What’s the point of that?” I ask finally. “I was going to find out sooner or later.”
He handsome man shrugs and looks uncomfortable.
“Because this way, you know me for who I really am. I’m not Tom Masters to you, I’m just Tom.”
That gets me really angry.
“I have no idea who are you are! You lied to me from the very beginning. All the things we talked about…said to each other…was it all fake?”
Tom takes a step forward, as tears begin to course down my face. I hate myself for crying, but I can’t stop. I flinch away from him and he halts, his expression torn. My heart breaks a little more because this is a huge mess.
"No, everything I told you was the truth. I just left out who I was,” he tries again.