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CALL ME, MAYBE
Ellie Cahill
Releasing on February 9, 2016
Loveswept
“Ellie Cahill is definitely one to watch!” raves bestselling author Cora Carmack, and this steamy, upbeat modern romance about connecting in all the best ways proves it once again.
Clementine Daly knows she’s the black sheep. Her wealthy, powerful family has watched her very closely since she almost got caught in an embarrassing scandal a few years ago. So when Clementine’s sent on a mission to live up to the Daly name, politely declining isn’t an option. Of course, the last thing she does before boarding the plane is to grab a stranger’s phone by mistake—leaving the hunky journalist with her phone. Soon his sexy voice is on the line, but he doesn’t know her real name, or her famous pedigree—which is just the way Clementine likes it.
Despite all the hassles, Justin Mueller is intrigued to realize that the beautiful brown-eyed girl he met at the airport is suddenly at his fingertips. They agree to exchange phones when they’re both back in town, but after a week of flirty texts and wonderfully intimate conversations, Justin doesn’t want to let her go. The only problem? It turns out that Clemetine has been lying to him about, well, everything. Except for the one thing two people can’t fake, the only thing that matters: The heat between them is for real.
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I
pushed my fingers through my hair. My heart was full of a feeling I’d
had waiting for my grandmother to come out of her hip replacement
surgery three years ago. Which was ridiculous considering my phone
could be replaced for a few hundred dollars. I could replace both of
ours with a few phone calls and a swipe of my American Express.
“I’m
really sorry,” I repeated.
“Unless
you did this on purpose, you can stop apologizing. We just have to
deal with this.”
“Right.”
I bit my lip.
“Who
are you?” he asked.
My
nerves jangled with familiar anxiety. But he had my phone. There was
nothing I could do about it if he decided to play detective. Oh god,
I’d worked so hard at keeping it clean. Had I missed anything?
Anything that he could use? Finally, I said, “Clementine.”
“Clementine?”
he repeated with a tone of total disbelief. It was a typical
reaction.
“Yes.”
“I’m
Justin. I’d say nice to meet you, but . . .”
“Yeah.
Well, thanks for being cool about this, Justin.”
“No
problem. Do you mind if I give your number to a few people?”
It
took me a moment to process what he meant. He still needed a phone,
and for now, mine was all he had.
“No,
that’s fine. Go ahead. I don’t really think I’ll be getting
many calls. Everyone knows I’m out of town.”
“You
can give my number to people if you need to.”
“Same
to you.”
“Okay
. . .” He faded, seeming uncertain. “I guess I’ll just . . .
get in touch with you if you get any messages.”
“Um
. . . I guess . . . I’ll talk to you later then.”
I
disconnected, finding my brother staring at me. “Was he upset?”
he asked.
“Yeah,
but at least he wasn’t a dick about it.”
“Why
don’t you just have them both replaced? Tell him to go pick up a
new phone at the nearest store.”
“I
thought of that, but maybe he doesn’t have the cash to drop on a
new one.”
“So
pay for it.”
“People
are weird about stuff like that. Besides, do you really think I
should point out the fact that he has the personal phone numbers of
some of the wealthiest people in the country? We have no clue who
this guy is.”
He
made a face, but he knew I was right.
This
was so so bad. My grandparents were going to kill me. “Oh my god,
Honor, you have to call Grandma right away!”
He
didn’t even hesitate, just reached for his phone and dialed. He
knew how it was. If she didn’t hear that we were safe and sound
very soon, she was going to start calling me. And the last thing the
poor schmuck whose day I’d already ruined needed was to have Miriam
Schulman-Daly hitting redial until she got a response.
“Don’t
tell her a stranger has it! Tell her I left it at home!” I added to
Honor in a rush, tugging on his arm to make sure he was paying
attention.
He
waved me off, but I thought I could trust him to give me this small
bit of cover. While I waited for Honor to explain the situation, the
phone buzzed with a new text message from my line.
Sorry
if I was a jerk on the phone. I’m frustrated.
I
replied, You
weren’t. No apology necessary.
We’re
stuck with each other for now. An apology is definitely necessary.
I’m
the one who should be giving it. My stupid brother grabbed the wrong
phone.
All
right, so we’re mutually sorry and we can blame your brother,
agreed?
I
smiled. Who was this guy?
Agreed.
Ellie Cahill is a freelance writer and also writes books for young adults under the name Liz Czukas. She lives outside Milwaukee, Wisconsin, with her husband, son, and the world’s loudest cat.
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