For Fearless Friday, Sandra Tilley is introducing us to a character in her book that has an idea about being fearless. Read on and enjoy!
Libby Miller used to be fearless. And then life lulled her and Neil into a comfortable ho-hum. But nothing prepared Libby to celebrate her nineteenth wedding anniversary with a ghost. Or catch her husband Neil cheating or his BMW flipping over an exit ramp or his ghost showing up in her dining room. Despite Libby's efforts to coerce Neil’s meddling presence to move on to the light or wherever, he’s too busy sabotaging Libby's chances at starting a new life. Time for Libby to find her nerve. Time for Libby to be fearless.
A dark hulk stepped into my path. My eyes trailed up his black leather jacket and stopped just south of his BPD ball cap. Eli Anderson. My Eli Anderson.
My feet stopped. My heart stopped. But not the waitress behind me balancing a large round tray loaded with drinks. An avalanche of icy cocktails tumbled over my shoulder and zoomed down my chest like skiers on a ski jump.
A collective gasp sucked the air from the room. My feet froze to the spot—like the frozen pina coladas on my chest. Eli scooped his finger into the icy mound on my cleavage. “Tasty. I don’t usually like fruity drinks.”
I opened my mouth but no words came out. The waitress muscled past him and wiped feverishly at my blouse.
Eli took her cloth and plopped it onto the pile of glasses at my feet and circled his arm firmly around my waist. “You can clean up at my house.”
It wasn’t a suggestion.
“Libby!” Angie’s high-pitched voice out-staged the band. She and Leah and the other bachelorettes waiting for me crowded around a table strewn with ribbons and wrapping paper and lots of empty glasses. Angie diverted their interest to my direction.
I waggled my fingers goodbye.
Leah lifted her gaudy white veil, smiled, and gave me two thumbs up.