Meeting Miss Mystic by Katy Regnery Read Free Book Online Page B

the front. Not wanting to appear like a creepy old man sitting by himself in the back row of the theater, Paul chose an aisle seat three rows from the back, sat down and then raised his phone.
    It’s me. Are you there?
    He smiled at his phone, running his thumb over her words, looking at the 860 area code of her previously unknown phone number and loving that she was suddenly only a phone number away now.
    I’m here, he responded. Has yours started yet?
    Not yet. Still previews. And hi. :)
    Heya Holly. I’m smiling so wide right now, it’s ridiculous. Thanks for doing this.
    Thanks for asking me.
    How was your drive? he typed.
    Fine. The theater’s only 15 min from my apt. You?
    Good. Sunny. The Yellowstone River snakes along by the hwy. Lots of mountains. Makes for a nice ride.
    It’s raining here. Perfect day for the movies. My drive wasn’t pretty, though. Just highway. I-95. I really don’t like hwy driving, but I was running late.
    You don’t like hwy driving? he asked.
    I prefer back roads.
    Back roads. I haven’t heard that expression in a long time.
    You don’t use back roads in Montana?
    Not like you do in New England. In NE there are a million ancient back roads you can use to take the scenic route or avoid traffic.
    Exactly.
    In MT, every route’s the scenic route and there is no traffic.
    You really love it there? You don’t miss NE?
    I do sometimes. At Thanksgiving and Christmas, mostly. Nobody does Christmas like Maine. That’s why I go home.
    And to see your family?
    He paused before answering. He typed “It’s complicated” but erased the words. He didn’t want to send up a warning flag about him not liking his family or having problems with them. But it was complicated.
    Paul was sixth-generation Johansson and his father’s expectations had been very clear: Brown undergrad, Harvard law, then partner in the family law business like his older brothers, Ted and Bennett. Going into the family law business in Boston wasn’t what Paul wanted. He didn’t want to make that ninety-minute commute every Monday morning, only returning north on Friday afternoons. Keeping an apartment in the city. The endless hours of work. The temptations of spending most of your life far from home. The women. He bit the side of his cheek as his father’s face came into focus, swiftly followed by his mother’s. They were still together after forty years, but it wasn’t a happy marriage.
    How in the world could you explain all of that in a text? Why would he even want to? Hey, Holly, here’s a look into my incredibly wealthy, incredibly privileged, incredibly dysfunctional, unhappy family. Want to get to know me better ? Yeah, right. What girl wanted that? Especially a girl who had lost her own parents but managed to hold on to strong relationships with her sister and aunt. No. Better that he gloss over it. He’d tell her all about it in nitty-gritty detail some other time.
    Of course. To see them too.
    Two brothers, right? Local?
    Boston.
    Huh. Close. More local to me than to you.
    His eyes narrowed, thinking of Ted or Bennett finding out about Holly and making a move on her just to spite him.
    They’re in Shanghai as far as you’re concerned. And they smell. And have rotten teeth.
    LOL! *am smiling*
    I love making you smile, Holly. :)
    Ooo! Movie’s starting. Yours?
    Not yet. No spoilers, now, Miss Morgan.
    Just then the lights dimmed in Paul’s theater and he slunk back into his seat as the previews started.
    Previews just starting, he typed. Then, Hey Holly?
    I’m here.
    That’s the thing…I wish you really were.
    He stared at the screen, but she didn’t text back in the same rhythm they’d established a minute ago. Shoot. Had he gone too far? He waited a good thirty seconds and still no response, but he decided not to take it back or play if off as a joke. A card laid is a card played… and, anyway, he meant every word.

Chapter 4
    Zoë stared at the little screen.
    I wish you really were.
    Goose