The Unidentified Redhead (1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

him a little.
    “Hamilton, I would love for you to come,” I teased, implication heavy in the air as I raised my hand and gave him a light slap on the face. He narrowed his eyes at me.
    “Hmmm…” he said, and opened the front door.
    “What does that mean?” I grinned. Don't chase him, don't chase him.
    He turned once more, giving me a thoughtful glance. “Hmmm…” he repeated, and gave me wink.
    “Night,” I said, as he started to walk away
    “Night, Sheridan,” he called over his shoulder, and then he was gone.
    I closed the door and leaned against it for a minute, just thinking about “Hmmm…” I pushed myself off the door and was startled by Holly watching me from the other room.
    “Hmmm?” she smirked.
    “There will be no hmmm-ing going on, I will have you know. He's my new friend. That's all. He's twenty-four, for Christ's sake!” I stated, as I walked by her on my way upstairs.
    “You could use a good hmmm-ing, ya know!” she yelled up after me.
    That was so true.
     

The_Unidentified_Redhead

Chapter Four
    I woke up feeling strangely disoriented. My back was stiff and I realized that I had fallen asleep in the big chair by the fireplace in the living room. I stretched, listening to the tendons in my neck crackle and pop until I noticed that Holly was sitting across from me with a grin like the Cheshire Cat.
    “Hey, what's up?” I asked, snuggling back under the throw I had wrapped up in last night while I was reading.
    While I was reading…oh no.
    “I told you so. How far did you get?” she asked with a bemused expression, looking pointedly at the magazines strewn across the floor next to me.
    I attempted to crawl further under the blanket while she pointed accusingly at me and I finally rolled my eyes and held up my hands, signifying my surrender.
    “OK, OK, I give. It's brilliant and I'm totally sucked in. I'm in love with Super Sexy Scientist Guy!” I admitted, blushing as I thought of the passages I'd read the night before. Joshua had arrived in nineteenth century Paris and was engaged in some rather intense 'international relations' with a young woman who worked in a millinery. I didn't know where this story was going to go, but I was sure digging it. I might have also been imagining a certain Mr. Hamilton in the role of Joshua and that made me blush further.
    “Oh, boy,” she squealed. “Wait until you get to the part where he picks her up and pushes her up against the—”
    “Holly! Not fair! Let me read them on my own. At the rate I'm going I'll be finished by the end of the week.” I raised a finger in her direction and shook it.
    “I won't tell you anything…but promise me you'll keep me posted on what part you're on,” she pleaded with me.
    “Agreed,” I muttered as she left the room, glowing.
    ***
    Later that day, I was finishing a run at Griffith Park. I had spent the rest of the morning trying to work, but I was unable to stay away from the damn stories. I was well into the third short story by now, and losing ground fast to this new addiction. By three p.m., it was obvious that I would get no work done, so I decided to go for a run. I was lucky that my job allowed me a flexible schedule and I mainly worked from home. I had gone back to school after moving back from L.A. and got a second degree in instructional design. I created and designed training programs and materials and had been fortunate enough to be able to work in a freelance capacity. This work was something I enjoyed and was good at, although it wasn't satisfying the way performing was. As I was running, I reflected on how happy I was here and how I had made it back.
    When I lived in L.A. the first time, I was focused only on what I thought fame would bring me. I wanted the attention, the money, the lifestyle, instead of concentrating on the work, on the craft. What I have since realized is that, back then, it was all about the validation, looking out instead of in. I rarely allowed myself to really