Page 6 of Pretend You Love Me

Maybe I’ve died. Maybe I’m unconscious. That’s possible, right?

What other explanation could there be for what’s happening? Although if I was dreaming, I think I would have created a more pleasant man - personality wise. Physically though - holy hell, I couldn’t do any better than Grumpy over here.

“You’re looking kind of green, Ginger. You’re not going to throw up in my truck, are you?”

I shake my head.

“Good, I just cleaned it.”

“How charitable of you,” I say.

We enter a small town, and he pulls in front of a small building.

“Let me see if Paul is in,” he says, opening the door. “Don’t go anywhere, Ginger.”

“Don’t worry,” I say as I watch him run into the building shirtless. It’s a sight to behold. Heaven help me, it’s really warm in here all the sudden. I prop open the door.

Nope. Nope. Nope.

No time for dirty thoughts about my cranky, sexy rescuer. I’m in too much of a pickle right now to waste energy lusting after this man.

I have almost no money and no car. Good god, nothing about this is going right. The car – it’s not mine. It was more or less borrowed, and I need to return it - in one piece. I don’t have a lot of money with me. I’ve been taking little bits of money out of my account for months - trying not to attract any attention.

I hang my head in my hands. My brothers are going to kill me. I texted them that I was leaving, but they aren’t going to just accept it and move on. I know them too well for that.

So far no one has recognized me on this trip. I should be one of the most recognizable people on the planet, but I’m good at blending in even when I should stand out. My brother, James Sterling, is the President of the United States. I stood behind him at his Inaugural ceremony while millions of people watched around the world, but I can still blend in. I don’t seek out publicity like some of my other siblings. I’m a teacher, and I live a quiet life. I attend functions at the White House, but I try to avoid the camera and stay to the sidelines. I like my privacy. I like my anonymity. The only time I come out of my shell is with my family.

I get recognized from time to time, but it’s not every day. The red hair helps. Did I mention I cut bangs too? That was a real limb to climb out on, but I’m pleased to say I’m totally rocking them. It completely changes my face though. I think the average person won’t recognize me - although they will find my face familiar. Die-hard fans - and there are a lot of them out there — will recognize me. There’s a subset of the population that believes my family is modern day American royalty and are obsessed - like make creepy dolls and cross stitch our faces onto pillows sort of obsessed - with all things Sterling.

Most of my siblings have it worse since they are more in the public eye, but a few of these crazy fans have latched onto me. They like that I’m a bit mysterious. It allows them to project whatever they want onto me. Anyway, I’m praying none ofthose people live in this town. I’m praying I can pass without a second glance. I’m on a mission, a mission I want - no, I need to do it alone. I’m not going to let a few hiccups derail me and send me running to my brothers for help.

I look up to see my crabby knight in shining armor coming out of the building - shaking his head. He’s found a shirt though.

Too bad.

“He’s out on a call - won’t be back until this afternoon. I’m going to have to take you to Melvin,” he says as he climbs back in the truck. He throws the truck into reverse and backs out onto the road. The line between his brows has deepened, but I think the scowl is probably permanent.

“I thought you said there was just one doctor in town.”

“I did.”

Chapter Two

Kip

We pull up to Melvin’s, and she blinks several times. Her eyes move from the sign to my face and back again.

“You’re joking,” she says.

“No, darling. Sorry to break it to you, but I don’t joke.”

“Shocking,” she says. Sarcasm is practically dripping from her pretty, pouty lips.

“You coming or not?” I ask, jumping from the cab.

She groans and opens her door. “This is really the only option?”

“Sorry, Cinderella, should have stayed in the big city if you’d wanted more options.” I’m tapping my foot on the ground waiting for her. She sure likes to take her sweet time.