Invisible Future Read online

  INVISIBLE FUTURE

  LINDSEY ANDERLE

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2018 by Lindsey Anderle

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, October 2018

  ISBN 978-0-692-19866-7

  Book Cover Design by: www.ebooklaunch.com

  You can find me on Facebook and Twitter – Lindsey Anderle

  Chapter One

  I looked around my desk one last time, making sure everything was in its place before I left work for the night. I opened my briefcase to confirm that I had placed the manuscript I was currently editing in there. Working at Voodoo Publishing had its perks, such as getting off at three p.m. on Fridays.

  I straightened the nameplate on my desk, feeling a warm glow of pride as I looked at the shine of ‘Abigail Hendricks’ for everyone to see. Satisfied that I had everything I needed, I hoisted the briefcase strap onto my shoulder and left the office area where I worked. There were six desks evenly spaced around the room, and I had the desk in the far back corner away from the door. Sometimes it felt like I was in my own little world because I wasn’t close to most of the other editors in the room.

  I headed to the elevator on the far side of the room, already looking forward to getting home. It had been a busy week, with new proposals showing up almost daily. I always felt bad for the potential books and authors that got turned down, but the truth was, some were just awful with their unedited manuscripts and clichéd plotlines.

  I got into the elevator with two other people, all of us heading down and out. When the doors opened on the first floor, I said goodbye to them and walked out the front door. I turned right, heading for the parking garage. Getting into my car, I started the twenty-minute drive home. I lived in an apartment building with my best friend, Whitney Hamilton.

  Reaching home, I went up the four flights to our apartment. I unlocked the door and saw Whitney was already there, cleaning up the living room, bass from the song she was listening to thumping loudly.

  “Hey, Whitney!” I shouted over the music she had playing. I put my keys on the keyring and set my briefcase down.

  “Abigail! Hey! I didn’t hear you come in!” Whitney danced her way to the front hallway, pillow in her hand.

  I rolled my eyes, smiling. With the music blaring, it was no surprise she hadn’t heard me. I followed her to the living room.

  Whitney went to the stereo and turned it down. “How was work?” she asked me.

  “Oh, it wasn’t too bad. I had to bring some work home with me to try to get some more done over the weekend,” I answered, plopping down onto the couch.

  Whitney tossed the pillow at me. “Not tonight, my friend! Tonight, you and I are going out. We are in sore need of a fun time.”

  I thought about resisting, knowing how much reading I had to get done. But seeing the pleading look on Whitney’s face, I knew there was no point in trying.

  I stood up. “Fine with me! I guess I better start getting ready then.” Whitney was a bit of a bathroom hog, and I always had to beat her in there to ensure that I could get what I needed done.

  By the time we were ready, we had gone back and forth between each other’s closets a few times, mixing and matching our clothes, trying to find the right outfits to wear out. In the end, I settled on a green tank top and short black skirt with flats, while Whitney was in a hot pink dress with high heels.

  Around eight p.m., we were walking the four blocks to our favorite bar, The Den. Being the beginning of the weekend, the streets were getting busy. Cars were constantly zooming by and people were filling up the sidewalks, making it feel cramped as we headed to our destination.

  I looked down at Whitney’s ridiculously tall heels. “I will never understand how you can walk in those.” Her talent never ceased to amaze me.

  Whitney grinned at me. “It’s a gift. Besides, I have to weed out all of the short guys who don’t meet my height requirement.”

  I laughed at that. Being only 5’5”, I was pretty sure every man was taller than me, heels or no heels. Whitney was a few inches taller than I was and was also much stricter on her dating requirements.

  We had reached the last intersection, waiting on the light to change. The Den was right across the street. Loud music was pouring out of the open door, and people were crowded around the entrance, waiting to go in. Others were standing around the outdoor seating, smoking cigarettes or chatting with their friends.

  Two other men and a woman were waiting to cross as well. Finally, the light changed. We started to cross and neared the other side. I looked at Whitney, about to say something, when I heard tires squealing. A red four-door car was turning in front of us without slowing down at all and I felt the wind from it blow my skirt around, the sharp scent of burnt rubber stinging in my nose. I shrieked, frozen, until one of the men crossing with us grabbed my hand, pulling me over sharply.

  I could hear screaming and crying. I was too shocked to really pay much attention to anything except the man beside me, still holding onto me. Fear had me frozen in place and clutching the man’s hand tightly, unsure of where it was safe to move to.

  The man who had grabbed my hand guided me to the sidewalk and peered down at me. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking me over for injuries. “That car almost ran you over!”

  I just nodded, still dazed. Whitney ran over, tears staining her face. She hugged me tightly before examining me. “That car almost got you! Oh, my God! He didn’t even stop or slow down! What if he had hit you, you could be dead!” she cried.

  “I’m okay,” I replied, finally coming back to myself. “Is everyone else okay?”

  The man spoke up. “Everyone else is fine. The car sped off before anyone could get any info on it for the police.” He looked disgusted at the thought of such a reckless driver like that staying on the road.

  Whitney shook her head and carefully wiped at her face to make sure her makeup wasn’t running. “Well, I guess we really need some drinks now!” She motioned to the man. “You and your friend are welcome to join.”

  I think she had finally noticed how attractive the man was. Being a little over six feet tall easily put him in her height bracket. He had chestnut brown hair and dark brown eyes. His dark blue plaid button-up shirt accentuated the muscles that I could tell were underneath. I knew if he turned around that I would be able to appreciate just how well his jeans fit him.

  I was surprised when he turned and looked over at me and asked, “Is that all right with you?”

  I blinked a couple of times before remembering to respond. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Whitney reacting to the fact that the man was asking my opinion, a scowl on her face. I guess she had assumed he would be into her, since most men were.

  “Um, yeah, that’s fine with me,” I managed to spit out. “I’m Abigail Hendricks and this is Whitney Hamilton.”

  The man held his hand out. “Lane Coleman. That there is my brother, Kent.”

  I shook Lane’s hand and then his brother’s. Kent looked pretty similar to Lane, but not quite as tall. I noticed dark brown eyes on him, too. He was wearing jeans and a button-down shirt as well, but my eyes kept drifting away from him to Lane. Kent just wasn’t as impressive to me as his brother was.

  Whitney clapped her hands once and gestured at the door to The Den. “Well, shall we?”

  I could tell she was excited at the turn the night had taken. After the terrifying almost hit-and-run, of course. I followed her inside, slowing down to let my eyes adj
ust to the dimness inside. On the left wall was a bar running down the length of it, spotlights highlighting the different bottles of liquor. Throughout the floor were various tables and high tops, and on the right-hand wall were a handful of booths. Tonight, it was quite crowded, and we had to wait for a table. The bar was also full, with people pushing around each other to shout at the bartenders.

  It felt like pure chaos from where I stood as a bystander. I couldn’t imagine how the bartenders felt. Perfumes and colognes permeated the air around us, almost blocking out the smell of alcohol that seemed to be in every bar I’ve been in.

  Someone came in the front door to my right, causing me to take a step back and bump into Lane. I quickly stepped away. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize you were right there.”

  Lane gave me a slow smile. “It’s okay. It happens.” He kept looking at me as if he were studying me.

  After a minute, I realized I was staring at him, too. I cleared my throat and looked down before turning away from him. I widened my eyes at Whitney, as if to ask for help. Luckily, she had always been good at reading my silent gestures.

  “Oh, look, I see a table over there!” She pointed toward the middle of the room. Grabbing my hand, she started hauling me in that direction, Lane and Kent following us.

  When we reached the table, Whitney turned to the two men. “If you’ll excuse us for a moment, we’ll be right back.” She practically dragged me to the restroom, which was thankfully empty.

  Turning to the mirror, Whitney started fluffing her hair. “This night started as a nightmare!”

  I agreed with her, turning to examine myself in the mirror. My auburn hair was hanging flat, which seemed to always happen when I tried to curl it. My hazel eyes were framed by dark lashes that I had added mascara to. My cheeks were still red, probably more from my embarrassment over stepping into Lane than the blush I had applied. I reached into my pocket for my lip gloss, so I could at least have one thing that looked good.

  Whitney finished with her hair and turned to me. “So, which one do you want? Me, personally, I kind of like Lane. He’s got that tall, dark, and handsome thing going on.”

  My stomach flipped at that, though I wasn’t sure why. I went into a bathroom stall to hide my reaction, not sure if it was broadcasted on my face. “Yeah, I mean, whatever you want. They’re both pretty cute.” I rolled my eyes, knowing I was safe from view. Whitney tended to be extremely demanding when she set her eyes on something she wanted, disregarding anyone else’s feelings on the matter.

  Whitney banged on the stall door. “You done in there? They’re not going to wait for us all night!”

  I flushed the toilet, even though I hadn’t used it. Opening the stall, I came out and saw Whitney by the door. She swung it open and left, with me following behind.

  We got back to the table and Whitney immediately sat down next to Lane, who was across from Kent. I sat down slowly, not sure what to think anymore. I was actually kind of annoyed at Whitney for taking over and not really letting me have an opinion. This is so typical of her, I thought.

  There were already four beers on the table, plus four shots of tequila. I saw Whitney glance at the beers with distaste. I knew she preferred mixed drinks and I wondered if she would drink them, because of Lane.

  Lane passed out the shots, and then lifted his own. “To the four of us. To surviving the night.” He looked at me as he said the toast, letting his smile slowly spread across his face. I noticed the corners of his eyes crinkling as he did this.

  I blushed, feeling my face heat up. If I was to be honest with myself, Lane was the most handsome man I had ever met. But I wouldn’t let myself think about it too much, for Whitney’s sake.

  We all raised up our glasses, clinked them together and drank. I winced, unused to drinking liquor. It burned as it ran down my throat. I pulled a beer over and drank, hoping to quench the burn. It helped a little bit.

  Whitney had turned to Lane, engaging him in conversation, leaving me with Kent. I turned to him and saw him glancing around the room.

  “So, have you been here before?” I asked.

  “No, I haven’t. My brother and I are new to the city, and tonight is the first chance we’ve had to really get out,” Kent replied, turning in his chair to face me.

  “Oh, really? Well, I’m glad you guys chose tonight to go out.” I was thinking about almost getting hit by that car. If Lane and Kent had not been crossing the street with us, I didn’t even want to think of what might have happened.

  I glanced over at Lane and noticed him looking back at me. He gave a small smile and I ducked my head down, feeling embarrassed. I looked back at Kent. “So, what brought you guys here?”

  Kent took a drink of his beer. “We both wanted something new. So, we moved to a completely new state, and gambled with the fact that we might run out of money before we find jobs.” He looked at me, and it felt like he was trying to figure me out. “What do you do, Amy?”

  I felt a flash of annoyance. Amy, really? Dumb guy couldn’t even remember my name. “It’s Abigail, actually,” I said stiffly, and then heard a snort from across the table. I looked over and saw Lane trying to cover up the smile he couldn’t quite hide. He was still paying attention to Whitney, but somehow, I knew he had been listening to us talk. “And I work at Voodoo Publishing as an editor.”

  Kent raised his eyebrows, looking impressed. “That’s pretty cool. I hate reading, though.”

  I stared blankly at him. This could not be going any worse than it already was. I was starting to wish I had just stayed home and kept up with the pages that needed editing. Even horrible writing would have been better than talking to the man before me.

  Lane chose that moment to stand up. “Another round for everyone?” he asked, pointing at us all. “Abigail, do you want to come and help me carry them?”

  I was surprised but nodded yes. Glancing at Whitney, I could tell by the purse in her lips that she wasn’t thrilled Lane had asked me instead of her.

  We got up and walked to the bar, waiting our turn. Lane turned to me, studying my face. “So, how’s your night going?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh, great, you know. First, I almost die, and then I’m stuck talking to some guy who forgets my name.” I felt my stomach drop, realizing who I was talking to. “Not that your brother’s all bad, of course.” I was trying to backtrack, and Lane knew it.

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “Relax, Abby. I know you meant no harm.”

  I felt my face heat up at his nickname. Surprisingly, nobody called me by one. I was just Abigail and always had been.

  “Actually,” he continued, “I was kind of thinking that I wished I had been talking to you all night instead of…” He trailed off, his eyes drifting over to Whitney.

  I followed his gaze, and saw Whitney watching us. Kent seemed to be trying to get her attention, waving his arms around, apparently describing something. I looked back at Lane. A lazy smile was on his face as he looked at me.

  “What?” I asked, itching to reach up and feel my face or hair, sure that there must be something stuck in them.

  He shook his head. “I’ve just never met anyone quite like you before.” He stepped closer, causing me to catch my breath. “You interest me.”

  I let out a breathless laugh, stepping away from him and up to the bar. This was not happening. Guys like Lane just did not talk this way to me. “Easy there, tiger. We’re just here to have some drinks. We happened to be at the same place at the same time.”

  Lane looked down at me, eyes roaming over my face. I felt like he could hear the doubt in my voice. It felt like it was oozing off my skin. “All right. Just drinks it is, then.” He turned to the bartender and ordered four more beers and tequila shots.

  Feeling awkward, I gathered up two shots and two beers, Lane taking the others. We wound our way back to our table where Whitney was obviously ignoring Kent, keeping her entire focus on us instead.

  She turned as we approached. “Abigail, I
need to use the restroom.” She stared at me, her squinted, angry eyes trying to drill a message into my brain.

  I nodded. “Um, yeah, so do I. We’ll be right back.” I looked at Lane, who was watching me as I walked by him. He lifted his hand and let it trail over mine as I passed him. My heart sped up and I froze for a second, shivering at the contact as I felt butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. What was this? It scared me a little bit that I could have such a reaction to a man that I had just met.

  I followed Whitney through the tables and into the bathroom. She spun around, narrowing her eyes at me. “What are you doing? I said I wanted Lane, and you’re throwing goo-goo eyes at him. Don’t think I haven’t noticed!” She was practically melting me with her glaring eyes.

  I just stared at her, confused. “I’ve been talking to Kent all night. I’ve never thrown any eyes anywhere.” I wasn’t even sure what goo-goo eyes looked like. I had never seen Whitney like this before.

  She just stood there looking at me. “I think I have a really good shot with Lane. Don’t blow this for me.”

  I couldn’t think straight right now. Whitney was coming off as slightly crazy and possessive, something I had never seen before. Lane was acting interested in me, and even while I was headed here, he was touching my hand. What was I supposed to do? I had been friends with Whitney for five years and had only just met Lane. Thinking about it like that, it made the choice clear.

  I nodded. “Of course, Whitney. I’m not even interested. Maybe he’s the one who wanted to try us both out?” I suggested this as a way out, even though I could feel the burn of the lie on my face.

  Whitney stopped touching up her makeup in the mirror at that. “Oh, my gosh. He’s just playing me! I can’t believe it!” She slammed her lipstick down on the counter. “I’ll show him.”

  My head was reeling from the emotional display I had just seen. What the hell, I thought as I turned around slowly to follow her back out. This whole night was turning out to be so exhausting.

  I returned to the table and grabbed the shot glass in front of my seat. Then, throwing away all my cares, I downed Kent’s as well. I wiped my mouth and noticed everyone staring at me. At this point in the night, I couldn’t care less.