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Back First Comes Love Save as PDF
Chapters (92)
  1. First
  2. Love Connection
  3. Zero
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. One Month Later
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Six Months Later
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-one
  27. Twenty-two
  28. Twenty-three
  29. Twenty-four
  30. Six Months Later
  31. Twenty-five
  32. Twenty-six
  33. Twenty-seven
  34. Twenty-eight
  35. Twenty-nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-one
  38. Thirty-two
  39. Thirty-three
  40. I Have Never
  41. One
  42. Two
  43. Three
  44. Four
  45. Five
  46. Six
  47. Seven
  48. Eight
  49. Nine
  50. Ten
  51. Eleven
  52. Twelve
  53. Thirteen
  54. Fourteen
  55. Fifteen
  56. Sixteen
  57. Seventeen
  58. Eighteen
  59. Nineteen
  60. Twenty
  61. Twenty-one
  62. Twenty-two
  63. A Christmas Date
  64. One
  65. Two
  66. Three
  67. Four
  68. Five
  69. Six
  70. Seven
  71. Eight
  72. Nine
  73. Ten
  74. Eleven
  75. Twelve
  76. Thirteen
  77. Fourteen
  78. Fifteen
  79. Sixteen
  80. Seventeen
  81. Eighteen
  82. Nineteen
  83. Twenty
  84. Twenty-one
  85. Twenty-two
  86. Note from the Author
  87. Sneak Peek – To the Stars and Back
  88. Two
  89. Three
  90. Four
  91. Also by Camilla Isley
  92. About the Author

I get up and offer my hand to pull her up. When our eyes become level, a breath catches in my lungs.

Man, what kind of trouble are you getting yourself into?

***

To avoid getting recognized by anyone, I guide Lana through the service halls until we enter the underground parking lot. I’ve come and gone this way enough times over the years to navigate the corridors of the Peninsula without troubles.

In the garage, I head to the spot where I’d parked the Ferrari and eye my new ride. Penny bought me a red Tesla; not quite the Ferrari-red I’m used to, but still a nice color.

I stride to the driver’s side of the car and make a show of dropping my keys. This gives me the excuse to bend down and collect the new ones my PA has hidden behind the tire. Only, instead of a regular key, I find a key card on the ground that looks better fit to open a hotel room than a car. It has the Tesla logo on it, though, so this must be what I need.

“Wow.” Lana has come around to stand beside me. “This looks brand new.”

You have no idea.

“Yeah, I just got it.”

“Cool.” She walks around the car to the passenger door and waits for me to unlock it.

With the key card in my hands, I feel like a total moron. I have no clue how to get this car to open. Where’s the key card reader? Is that even a thing with cars?

Placing the card next to the door handle doesn’t work. With beads of sweat blossoming on my forehead, I search for other possible places to stick this key.

Where would they put the opening mechanism?

The shell of the car looks all the same, except for a lighter patch of glass between the two side windows. For lack of better alternatives, I press the card to the door frame and wait for something to happen. When the Tesla finally beeps and unlocks, I sigh with relief and get in.

Two seconds later, I’m in a panic again. There’s no start button near the wheel, or any other button or key slot; only a giant screen sitting in the middle of the dashboard.

How do I turn this thing on?

Pretending I have to check a message on my phone, I quickly pull up a user manual on the internet. The instructions say I have to place the key card near the cup holder and push the brake to start the engine.

Engine successfully started, I pull my seatbelt on and ask Lana for an address.