Page 101 of Crossed Wires: The Complete Series

“I guess I should get off here. It looks like they’re about to start calling for passengers for this flight,” Harper said. “Then I’m off to see your cowboys.”

“They’re not cowboys, Harper. Marc’s a jackaroo, cause he’s only in his early twenties and Keith is a stockman cause he’s an old bastard of twenty-eight. You might want to brush up on your Aussie vocab too.”

“Jackaroo, stockman. Got it. Oh hey. Before I forget, there are some staples in the fridge to keep you going until you get to the store—milk, eggs, stuff like that. The fresh towels are in the closet at the top of the stairs and the keys to my car, if you’re brave enough to attempt driving in America, are on the hook by the foyer table. Just remember, we drive on the right side. You crazy fools drive on the wrong side.”

“Bloody hell. I’m fine taking taxis or the train. Dying to try those things anyway. There’s no way I’d risk my life trying to tackle your roads. I reckon I’d have a heart attack every time I had to make a right turn, fearing I’d smash into somebody. Those car keys will stay on the hook.”

“Chicken shit. Fine. I planned a big surprise for you too. It’s something you’ve always wanted.”

Amy perked up. She loved pressies. “What is it?”

“If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise.”

“Where is it?”

Harper laughed. “It’s not in the house…yet. So don’t bother looking for it. And you won’t know when it’s arriving, but be ready. It’ll knock your socks off! Promise.”

“Crap. I hate surprises. Will you give me a hint at least?”

Harper refused. “Nope. Just remember to keep an open mind.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“You’ll see.” Harper yawned loudly. “Damn, they better start loading this plane soon or I’m likely to fall asleep in this chair.”

“Okay. See you later, Harper.”

“Bye, Amy.”

Amy pressed End on her phone and sighed. If there was one part of the trip she regretted, it was that she wouldn’t get to meet Harper face-to-face.

She wondered what the surprise could be. The two of them had shared so many secrets in the past few months, Amy couldn’t even guess what Harper had planned for her.

A couple weeks ago they’d gotten drunk together via Skype, and Amy had told Harper things she’d never admitted to another living soul. Amy had been feeling sorry for herself for spending another weekend dateless and stuck at home, so she’d consumed a bottle of wine. On a whim, she’d drunk-Skyped Harper, surprised to find her friend also off her face.

Harper had been treating herself to early-morning birthday Bloody Marys, indulging in the same pity party. As usual, they’d turned to each other for company and spent nearly two hours laughing and sharing their dirtiest sex fantasies. Amy still blushed when she recalled the detail she’d gone into as she told Harper all about her sex-with-a-stranger dream. Of course, considering Harper’s fantasy was to participate in a ménage, maybe they were even in the red-hot-fantasy category.

She glanced around Harper’s room once more. She’d done it, found her way to America. Amy had spent hours on the internet planning her Chicago itinerary, making a list of everything she absolutely had to see before returning home.

She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her passport. Grinning at her foolishness, she lifted Harper’s mattress and stashed it as Hazel’s voice came back to her. “Don’t leave that passport out in plain sight. Someone might steal it.” Amy had asked who the blazes would want her passport, but Hazel told her to hide it just the same, so she didn’t lose it. Truth be told that was probably her boss’s biggest concern. She often lamented about Amy losing her head if it wasn’t attached. So, for Hazel’s sake, she’d keep her passport safe.

Rising from the bed, she continued exploring the upstairs rooms, walking farther down the hall and peeking into what appeared to be a catchall room. A treadmill covered with clothes sat next to boxes filled with Christmas ornaments, then there was a desk and a filing cabinet. Amy’s own elliptical back in Farpoint served the same purpose—used less for workout and more as a clothesline.

She ventured on to the guest room where she’d left her luggage. Though Harper would be sleeping in Amy’s bedroom—it was the only room available in her tiny cottage—Amy didn’t feel right taking over her friend’s space with such a warm and welcoming guest room down the hall. She stared at her open suitcase. She should unpack, but exhaustion was kicking in. Between layovers, flights and the taxi ride from O’Hare, she’d been traveling nonstop for nearly twenty-seven hours. Adrenaline could only take her so far. She was buggered.

She was about to collapse on the bed when a closed door at the end of the hallway caught her eye. She’d missed it on her first rushed tour of the house. Curiosity defeated tiredness.

The door was unlocked. Opening it, she stepped into the large room—and sucked in a deep breath.

The walls seemed to mimic her bedroom back home.

The stark white paint was covered with breathtaking color photos of some of the most beautiful places on earth. Several of the landscapes she recognized immediately from the pictures she’d torn out of travel magazines over the years. However, there were just as many places she’d never laid eyes on. The familiar ache in her chest returned as she realized how much of the world there really was to see.

This had to be Andrew’s room. No doubt he’d taken the color shots himself, a photographic reminder of all the incredible places he’d journeyed to.

“Lucky bastard,” she muttered jealously. The rest of the room was equally inviting. Andrew had a king-sized bed that looked soft as a cloud. Walking over, she ran her hand along the comforter, then the pillowcase. Silk sheets. Holy shit. She’d always wanted to sleep in a bed with silk sheets.

The room seemed less lived in than Harper’s. The top of the dresser was devoid of knickknacks. The books on the shelf were organized a little too perfectly. Even the laundry basket in the corner was empty. If Amy didn’t know Andrew lived here, she’d think this room was a second guest room. Of course, given the fact, the man traveled most of the year and kept an apartment in Los Angeles as well, it made sense that his room would look neater, less inhabited.

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