Emily

“What’s your name?” he asked in a smoothly flavored accent.

I really didn’t care to talk to this strange rich guy, whoever he is. I just wanted to be left alone but creepers abounded in this crazy town, and I was getting sick of running into them.

“Bethany,” I said, lying. I wasn’t going to give him my real name. If I did that, I might find him at my apartment with a bouquet of flowers, chocolates or even worse, if I gave him my number, which I ...