Meeting Mr Anderson (The Men Series – Interconnected Standalone Romances Book 1)
Meeting Mr Anderson: Chapter 23

10 years earlier

“Who’d have thought it, eh, Anderson? People can’t get enough of your ugly mug. Hollywood must be blind!” Rob elbows me in the ribs.

“Ouch.” I laugh, pretending to look hurt. “I know I’m not your type, but—” Rob’s hand clamps over my mouth.

“Stop talking; you’re ruining it.”

“What are you going on about?” I ask, pulling the hand away. I follow Rob’s gaze across the room to a tall, raven-haired woman with a killer body in a figure-hugging red dress.

We’ve come to a party for a well-known fashion house. They’ve just signed me to be the face of their entire new season of menswear. I shoot in a week’s time. It’s an amazing opportunity and my eyes almost bulged right out of my head when I saw how much they were offering as payment. Rob insisted on coming along as my plus one to play the supportive childhood friend card. We both know it’s got far more to do with the number of single women that come to these events.

“Why don’t you go talk to her?” I whisper in Rob’s ear. Just as I say it, the woman in the red dress looks over in our direction and smiles.

“Maybe after another drink. Don’t want to look too keen,” Rob says, brushing off my suggestion.

“Fine.” I shrug my shoulders, knowing better than to argue. Rob’s more stubborn than red wine on a white shirt.

“What you having this time?” I shout over the music as we cut through the crowd to get to the bar.

“Just a Pepsi.”

I look at Rob with a raised brow. “There’s a free bar, and you want a Pepsi? You remember I said I’d drive home, don’t you?”

“I know,” Rob shouts back, “but it’s your night and you should be celebrating. I’ll drive us. If you trust me with your car, that is?” A smirk crosses Rob’s face, along with a silent challenge.

I never let anyone drive my car, so I know I’m being tested. My entire family jokes about it, saying I’m too uptight. It’s not that at all; I’m just a bad passenger. I like to be the one in control. I think it stems from sitting in the back seat when my dad gave my aunt a driving lesson once. I swear my knuckles were so white. I thought they may drop off from lack of circulation at the end of the half-hour ride of terror. There’s no way Rob will expect me to agree to it.

I narrow my eyes. “You’re on!” I grin, throwing my keys at Rob’s chest.

“Seriously?”

I nod and Rob pockets the keys before I can change my mind. It’s time I started loosening up a bit.

“Oh God,” I groan, squeezing my eyes shut. My head feels like someone’s crushing it in a vise. I run a hand up in my hair and it’s met with wetness, warm and sticky. What the hell?

I force my eyes open and stare through slitted lids at my fingers. They’re red, covered in… blood? Is that blood? I try to sit forward but a crippling pain shoots across my chest, winding me, and I slump back, gasping air into my lungs.

Sirens blare in the distance. The smell of gas and something metallic makes my stomach lurch and I gulp hard, not wanting to throw up all over myself.

I wrench my eyes fully open; the searing pain in my head turns into a relentless pounding. It’s the only part of my body I can feel; the rest is numb. I look down. My white shirt is covered in blood, as is the seat belt. I’m in my car. My head grows heavy and I slump in the seat.

The sirens are louder now. Help is coming. There must have been an accident, but I’m okay, I’m alive.

I’m…

I lurch forward in the seat as adrenaline floods my body.

Rob! I was in the car with Rob!

A sense of dread claws its way inside my body, taking over my soul. There’s only the sound of one set of rasping breaths in the car.

Mine.

I look across to the driver’s seat.

“Rob?”

Silence.

“Rob…?”

Dark-blond hair matted with blood clumps around Rob’s face.

“Rob…?” I lean over and shake my best friend.

My friend I’ve known since I was a kid. My friend I traded snacks with at break time. My friend I fell off my bike with, copied math homework from, went to my first underage club with, had my first drink with. My friend I don’t know how to live without.

“Rob…!” I scream.

This can’t be happening.

This can’t be real.

Empty green eyes stare into space, all light from them gone.

No, no, no. Please God, not Rob. Why not me? Take me instead! Fucking take me!

Strong hands surround me.

“We’re here to help; can you tell me your name?” a faceless voice probes. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“He’s in shock,” they call out.

“We’ve got to get him out now. The tanks split. It’s leaking everywhere,” another voice shouts.

People are grabbing me now, pulling me away.

Away from Rob.

I fight back. I scream at them to stop.

They don’t listen. They pull me away. Farther and farther away until I can’t see Rob anymore.

A police officer asks something about a name as I’m strapped down onto a board.

My eyes dart back to the crumpled metal that used to be my car.

Emergency personnel are surrounding it, talking in hushed voices. One looks at another and drops their head to their chest with a defeated shake.

No.

This can’t be real.

This is a nightmare. I’m going to wake up in a minute.

“What’s her name?” a policeman asks.

Why is he talking to me? Why isn’t he helping Rob?

“What’s your girlfriend’s name?” the same police officer says.

My lips move and words come out, but I have no idea who’s saying them. It doesn’t sound like me.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” the voice whispers. “She’s my best friend.”

“Her name’s Robyn, Robyn Cooper.”

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