Switch Stance

by M. E. Carter

  “Sorry, I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

  Adi smiles at me shyly, clearly worn out from peopling. “Don’t worry, I’m sure my stomach will join the chorus soon enough.”

  Laughing, I stretch my legs out and habitually rub my knee a little as I twist my leg. Thankfully, the car that picked us up was a large town car. I’m sure I have Freddy to thank for that. Or not, considering the last time he was in charge of setting up my car service, he forgot to tell them how tall I was, and I ended up riding in the Prius version of a clown car.

  “How about we stop for some dinner?”

  Adi hesitates, and I can see an excuse forming in her cute little mind. “Adi, we’re both starving, even though I’m on LA time, it’s late here. What would you say to splitting a pizza and a pitcher of beer?”

  Her stomach answers for her, and I lean forward to tell the driver to take us to the best pizza place in town when her phone rings. She grumbles under her breath and ignores the call. And it rings again.

  “Sounds like it’s important.”

  “Not likely,” she mumbles as she taps the answer button and brings the phone to her ear.

  “Can I call you back?” It’s not a greeting of hello or even a casual hi so I assume it’s personal and not her agent.

  “I said can I call you back. Oh, dear Lord.” Taking a huge breath and exhaling dramatically, she looks my way and says, “Sorry about this.”

  I’m about to question her when she pulls the phone down and taps the speaker button.

  “Can you hear me now?”

  “What is this a Verizon commercial?” A deep male voice asks on the other end of the line. Is it her boyfriend? Maybe that explains her hesitation around me.

  She rolls her eyes. “I had to put you on speaker. I don’t know what’s wrong with my phone. For some reason it’s automatically muting me.”

  “Did you spill water on it?”

  “No.”

  “Dr. Pepper?”

  Her face flushes. “Shut up, Todd.”

  He laughs through the phone. “Oh my dear Agnes. You’re so predictable.”

  Agnes? Why did he call her Agnes? I look at her questioningly, but she pretends I’m not there as she taps her fingers quickly on her leg and glances to me with wide eyes. I’m not sure what the look is for, but I find it endearing. Her mouth opens and closes like she’s going to say something but instead she pulls her top lip between her teeth and her brows furrow. It’s cute as hell and I slowly smile in response. Her eyes widen again but this time, it’s not a look of horror or nervousness, it’s surprise. She inhales quickly, her breath making a swoosh sound as her eyes glance to my mouth and then back to my eyes.

  It’s a simple look and only a few seconds, but it feels like everything just shifted between us. And I like it. I like the way she looks at me. For the first time in a long time, it makes me feel like I’m more than just a skater. Which could be problematic since she’s talking to some guy.

  “Aggi? Are you there? Oh Jesus, did you fall or something?” The voice on the phone is shouting and banging something but Adi, or Aggi, is still looking at me.

  “Todd, I’ll call you later.” She disconnects the phone and tosses it in her purse before leaning her head back and rubbing her hands down her face.

  “So, Agnes?”

  “Ugh.”

  I break out in laughter at her response just as the car pulls up in front of a small pizza joint.

  “Let’s go grab some grub,” I say, opening the door and turning to extend my hand to her. She hesitates for a second but then places her small hand in my large one and lets me help her out of the car. And it’s for naught because she still stumbles, releases a few curses, and then makes her way into the restaurant.

  Oh, yeah. I like this girl.

  A large pizza with the works and a pitcher of beer sit between us on the table, the topic of Agnes not even remotely broached. That’s mostly because both of our agents and publicists have been texting or calling us. They’re far too excited for the response tonight and apparently our social media presence is “killer” according to Freddy. Great.

  “I hate social media,” she grumbles as she tops off both of our pints.

  “I hear ya. I say we ignore them the rest of the night and enjoy this pie before it gets too cold and this beer gets warm.”

  After a few bites and a signal to the server for another pitcher of beer, I sit back in my seat. Lifting my glass to my lips, I pause and ask, “So, are we talking about it?”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “I’m assuming Adeline Snow isn’t your real name?”

  She crinkles her nose like she doesn’t want to answer, but knows she’s been found out. “It’s not. Well, it’s my professional name. My pen name. So technically, it’s kind of my name.”

  “But not your real name. Not the one that goes with the real you.” It’s a statement not a question. I already knew there were two versions of this woman, I just didn’t know there were two names. Two complete personas.

  “Ugh, I could kill Todd.”

  “Is Todd your boyfriend?” Please say no.

  By the hard grimace she flashes my way, it’s a pretty safe bet that I just assumed and almost made an “ass out of you and me.” “Ew. No. That’s my . . . Todd. I mean . . . Todd. Just Todd is his name. No, not ‘just Todd.’ His name is Todd.” She pauses to take a deep breath and probably to center herself. I can’t help being amused. “Todd is my best friend. The one I told you I watched the X Games with? He’s so not my boyfriend. Even thinking about him that way makes me want to bleach my brain.”

  That earns a chuckle from me. “Okay, not your boyfriend. That’s good.”

  “It is? I mean, it is. That’d be gross. I know that, but you don’t.”

  “It’s good for me. I’d hate for you to have a boyfriend.”

  She chokes a little on her beer at my statement, so I continue. “I like your name.”

  Her eyes widen, and she takes another sip from her beer before tilting her head. She’s assessing me. Trying to figure out if I’m teasing or serious.

  “Nobody likes my name. Well, except my grandmother. She loved it.”

  “I think it fits you. Agnes . . . is Snow your last name?” Shaking her head, I wait for her to provide her name. When she isn’t forthcoming, I motion with my hand as I take a bite of pizza for her to continue.

  She sighs deeply like she’s done trying to keep up with the pretense. “Well, you already know so what’s the harm, I suppose? It’s Sylvester. My name is Agnes Sylvester. Clearly not a name that’s going to sell romance books. Hence the pen name.”

  “What do your friends call you?”

  “Aggi. It’s why I went with Adeline and go by Adi. It’s close enough when I’m jumping into Adi mode. Having two names can get confusing.”

  “I can see that. Well, Aggi,” I say, eliciting a raised eyebrow from her as I raise my glass to toast. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you. I think this is the beginning of a long and beautiful relationship.”

  “Friendship.”

  “If you say so,” I answer, and we clink our glasses together.

  Chapter 13

  Aggi

  There is not enough concealer in this world to help with the six-piece luggage set I’m carrying under my eyes. Bags for days. Who does Spencer Garrison think he is, telling me he’s glad I don’t have a boyfriend? Calling our friendship a relationship. What alternate universe is he living in? And he likes my name?

  I wasn’t kidding when I said nobody liked my name. It’s a family name and while I love my family and my grandmother, my name kind of sucks.

  I shouldn’t have drunk all those beers because I started to believe him. The way he looked at me, the way he smiled at me, and the way everything made me feel. Like it could be real. He could mean it all.

  Fucking Todd. I swear I’m going to kill him. Later. I’m not exactly sure what for, but right now it’s easier to place blame on
him than on myself, so there you have it. Besides, I don’t have time to do it now.

  I’m running late to meet Spencer in the lobby. Our flight leaves in two hours and although we aren’t too far from the airport, traffic is rarely on my side. Plus, there’s always my faithful nemesis, security. For some reason, no matter how many prayers I send up, I always get stopped so they can rub their swabs and wipes on my laptop. I told the last TSA guy it was the sugar from my donuts on the keys. He didn’t care, and I was almost late for my flight.

  I quickly gather my things and speed walk out of my room and down the hall to the elevators. Glancing at the large mirrors blanketing the elevator, I cringe at my appearance. It’s not pretty. Oh well, Spencer wanted to know me. Today is a travel day and I’m travel ready. I’m decked out in my preferred travel outfit—leggings, a flowy tank, and a cardigan with my hair piled high on my head in a loose bun and other than the efforts to hide the circles, my makeup is minimal, and my glasses are on. There is no better concealer than the thick black rims. Plus, the idea of contacts make me want to poke my eye out. And frankly, with as tired as I am, actually poking my eye out would have been likely.

  Stepping out of the elevator I walk quickly around the corner dragging my suitcases behind me and—

  “Oof!”

  “Whoa, slow down there speedster.” Spencer’s arms are around me after barreling into him, with no indication he’s going to let me go.

  I take a moment to breath him in—I mean center myself—before pulling away.

  “Sorry. I know we’re late for the airport.”

  He flashes that megawatt smile and I find myself wanting to breathe him in again. Down girl!

  “It’s okay. I already checked us in and we are TSA PreCheck, so security won’t take that long.”

  I’m both excited and stunned that we won’t be late. Excited because I probably won’t have to run through the airport. That’s more dangerous than lighting a cigarette on a plane. And stunned because I’ve never been lucky enough to get TSA PreCheck. Maybe travelling with Spencer will be easier than I thought.

  “Our Uber is waiting, though,” he continues as he grabs the handle of my larger suitcase, leaving me with the carry-on.

  Following close behind, the chill from the wind goes right through my clothes straight into my bones. Or at least that’s how it feels. I’m so glad we’re doing the coldest legs of our trip first.

  Climbing into the Uber, we settle ourselves in for a short ride. Thankfully, we’re only about twenty minutes from the airport. It’s still making me anxious to cut it so close, but traffic seems light. Besides, what’s the worst that can happen? We miss our flight and I have to spend more time with Spencer at the airport, that’s what.

  And I don’t have time to try and bang out another chapter.

  And we’re potentially late for our next signing.

  And our publicists could end up having a ton of pissed off people on their hands that they have to deal with, making them cranky which in turn makes me flustered—okay yeah, we need this Uber to move faster.

  “I like the glasses.”

  Forgetting what my spiraling thoughts were about, I turn to look at Spencer. This is twice in the last twelve hours he’s said he likes something that makes me insecure about myself. I don’t understand what’s happening here. “Really?”

  “Yeah. They make you look, I don’t know . . . real.”

  I blink. “Real?”

  “Yeah. Like I’m getting to see the real you. Not the persona you want everyone else to see.”

  I blink rapidly as my mouth opens to respond, but I can’t think of one thing to say. It’s like he cracked the very fragile shell I have carefully built up around me, so he can taste the chocolate on the inside.

  Also, I make a mental note to never try to use M&M as an analogy because that didn’t quite work as well as I thought it would.

  Either way, I’m a bit flabbergasted, so instead of saying anything, I sit quietly, letting my mind wander to our next stop—Minneapolis. I’ve never been to the Twin Cities, but I know The Garrison Foundation has a facility there. Not that I’ve been stalking the list of locations or anything, I’m just knowledgeable about charitable organizations I respect. Plus, Minneapolis is home to the 2017 X Games and those were the last games Spencer competed in. I can see now how his being on this tour with me makes sense. I settle into my seat and let my mind wander.

  By the time we make it to the airport, it’s clear we don’t have time to waste. With less than thirty minutes until boarding and no telling how far away our gate is, we both shuffle and shift anxiously as we wait in line to drop off our bags. And then wait again for the TSA agent to look over our IDs and boarding passes.

  Finally, we catch a break and get the short security line, thanks to Spencer’s magical check-in powers, which means no taking our shoes off. No pulling our electronics out. And for me, no gun powder residue check. Score!

  Grabbing my bag, I race to the monitors to triple check our gate number, knowing Spencer is just two steps behind me.

  “Oh no. Spencer, we have to go to a different terminal.” Looking over at him, he’s not there. “Spencer?” I say swiveling around trying to find him. Finally, I home in on him and I can’t help the laugh that comes out of my mouth.

  He’s being more thoroughly checked by security.

  So much for me getting his good luck. Instead, he got my bad luck.

  Sauntering back over, I wait as patiently as I can for him to get done. When Spencer finally gets the go ahead to leave, he just zips his duffle and grabs several items off the table, racing to me.

  “Sorry about that. Where do we go?”

  “We came in at the wrong terminal. We have to grab the shuttle. It’s this way.” Grabbing a few of the books out of his hand that he’s about to drop, we make our way toward the marked entrance. It’s only when we take a seat that I look down at the books in my hand and realize . . .

  These are all Adeline Snow books.

  I quickly look up at him, knowing the questions are written all over my face. Questions I want to ask but am kind of afraid of knowing the answers to. As if he can sense my hesitation, he clears his throat and explains without me saying a word.

  “Someone at the signing said they were unicorn covers or something. I don’t know what that means, but I figured my sister would, so I grabbed her a copy.”

  “But,” I begin as I show him two identical copies. “There are two.”

  He shrugs. “I built this amazing place down in Lexington and had them build custom bookcases in my office. I figure I need some amazing books to go on the shelves.”

  Once again, I’m stunned speechless.

  “Maybe,” he clears his throat again. “Maybe you could sign them for me.”

  I bite back the smile that is threatening to take over my face. He wasn’t kidding when he said he likes me. Spencer Garrison likes me. Not Adeline Snow with the heels and the hair and the makeup. Just Agnes. With the weird name and the funny glasses and social awkwardness.

  “I’d love to.” And I really would. But as I fumble around in my bag I realize, “I don’t have a Sharpie, though.”

  “That’s okay.” Spencer takes the books from my hand and carefully places them back in his duffle, like they’re precious and he doesn’t want to ruin them. “I know where to find you.”

  The twinkle in his eye is back and the shyness is gone. I don’t know how he can turn on the confidence so easily, but it’s an inspiring sight to see. An idea for my surfer pops in my mind and I grab my notebook quickly, jotting down my thoughts.

  It doesn’t take long for the shuttle to come to a screeching halt and half the people standing stumble forward. Thank goodness I got to sit down this time. I would have been one of those people only there’s no way I would still be standing.

  Fortunately, we get to the gate right on time and zoom to the front of the line. It takes a second for me to understand why no one protests Spencer cutting in
front of everyone, but then I see it. We’re in first class. I gape at the sign for a second too long, making Spencer do a double take.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I shake my head. “The entire time I’ve worked with my agent, I have never once been booked first class for anything. You really are my good luck charm.”

  His low chuckle reminds me I’m actually speaking my thoughts, not just thinking them. “What?”

  “Nothing.” I wave him away, hoping my face isn’t flaming red but not holding much stock in that desire. “Nothing at all. Just glad we made it on time.”

  The gate agent calls us next and before I can think too hard about it, we’re on the airplane, seated on the most comfortable cushions my butt has ever had the pleasure of using for air travel.

  “This is amazing!” Spencer chuckles at my outburst, never opening his eyes as he leans back and absentmindedly rubs his knee, but this time I don’t care if I made a social faux pas. Seriously. There are only twelve of us sharing a restroom? I never even knew that was something I cared about so much!

  A smiling flight attendant approaches our little area and offers us a beverage.

  “What do you want, Aggi?”

  He called me Aggi. Butterflies take flight in my stomach, despite us still being on the ground, at him using my given name. It may not seem like a big deal to anyone else, but to me it’s symbolic. Like he’s choosing me over my carefully crafted persona. It’s a big deal, even if I can’t admit to it out loud yet.

  “I think I’ll have a white wine. You have that in first class, right? I’ve never been up here before.”

  Spencer chuckles again although our flight attendant seems slightly less amused. I wouldn’t be surprised if she asked me to whip out my ticket right now to verify my seat assignment.

  “We sure do. And what for you, sir?”

  “Rum and Coke, please.”

  “Coming right up.”

  She saunters away, leaving me to enjoy the thrill of extra wide seats and leg room I don’t need. You’d think I’d never been on a plane before with as thrilling as this is. But really. When did my people become such big spenders?