Knot a Liar (Knotted Up Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

evening at 6:46 thinking it was best to be a few minutes early rather than late. Yet, I found myself loitering and not walking in like I intend. I walk over and take a seat on one the benches across the road from the restaurant to collect myself.
    As the minutes tick by, I try to analyse the flickers inside my chest. They aren’t painful, more like a fluttering. Something perhaps akin to a heart attack in women if I remember the articles online right. With my hand resting over my heart, I close my eyes and try deep breathing. But the deeper I breathe, the faster my heart speeds. In that moment, I decide if it gets worse, I’m skipping dinner and heading for the hospital.
    But it stops. The same moment I decide to skip dinner, the sensation ceases. Altogether and quite abrupt in its departure. I sit for a few minutes longer waiting for its to return but nothing comes.
    In the meantime, I keep a lookout for Samuel. The descriptions are simple. A milk chocolate sexy warrior take-me-as-your-woman-now physique as Grace describes him. Or if that isn’t enough, I should look for the best dark brown skin that covers the perfect male specimen’s physique and an even prettier face. Try as I might, I couldn’t get the image of a young Clooney, younger Damon and Thor getting together to create him as Grace declares out of my head.
    Even though I don’t care much for all that, I’m more than intrigued by the exhaustive and plentiful descriptions Grace provides of him. Funny enough, I still have no clue what to look for except a man about six feet, or six and half as she isn’t sure, with beautiful creamy, milk chocolate skin.
    Problem is, in Bloxton, that describes about a third of its inhabitants. The other two-thirds are a perfect melting pot of every other ethnic group. So more than half of the town has between caramel and chocolate skin. In other words, Grace’s detailed descriptions gives me nothing useable.
    Checking the phone, I notice it’s now 7:08 PM. Which means I’ve sat out here for over twenty minutes and was yet to see Samuel enter the restaurant. So either he’s even tardier than I am or he’s already inside.
    I get up and straighten my dress and once again cross the road. Stopping by the hostess, I ask if Samuel turned up and she says no. Not in the mood for any games, I decide to give him ten minutes before I leave. Instead of sitting at a table like some lonely loser I got to the bar until the time expires. Pity, I’m looking forward to meeting the man who has Grace’s underwear on fire.
    The good part is that I have Mike to fall back on if indeed I get stood up. Though I can’t see why he’d call, in the first place if he wouldn’t show. The best thing I can do is hope he’s held up in some way. But he has a phone. A functioning phone if the one he used last night is his. So why won’t he call? Checking the time again, only four minutes until I go home so I turn my thoughts to more pressing matters.
    I try to define the logic behind what I’m doing. But then, if Patricia gets married without broadcasting it to the world, it can only mean one of two things: the guy is a troll or Tweedle Dum’s twin. Maybe both. I’m voting for both. Perhaps... what if when Alex said “what I heard” that includes some spectacular event? Some impromptu candle-lit thing on a beach in Montego Bay, where Tweedle Dee is so besotted with Patricia that he walks into walls? That ticks all her boxes. And if Patricia’s guy lights the sun each morning, I have to find one who decorates the skies at night.
    While checking my phone for the final time at the bar, a voice intrudes on my space.
    “Waiting for someone?”
    I tilt my head and turn to the voice.
    A figure raises up a glass with dark liquid swirling in ice to his lips and unfolds himself off the counter. “You keep checking your phone and looking around.”
    It’s the same figure at the bar when I came in. He smiles and I swear the stars shine a little brighter