Hiding Hollywood: A Southern Kind of Love: Book One by Palmer Jones

for a man. She’d already weighed the pros and cons of a seduction-for-Starbucks routine with this particular blue uniform who currently picked his teeth with that nasty toothpick. Probably the same toothpick she’d seen when he’d arrested her. She schooled her features to keep the disgust inside. A tall guy with a neatly trimmed crew-cut followed the guard until they reached her end of the cells. She spotted a small sheriff’s badge pinned to the chest of his tan shirt. How many cops did the panhandle of Florida need to deal with her? As far as they knew, she spent her days pedaling luxury perfume, not stealing Mercedes for parts. But, as her eyes scanned over the new guy, with his deeply tanned skin, something familiar sparked her interest. He watched her with confusion, his eyes narrowing a touch. “Miss?” The blue uniform wiggled his grubby finger in her direction, grabbing her attention. It was a universal signal to ‘come here.' Her middle finger itched to respond with another universal signal that technically meant the opposite. That’d never win her any favors. She ran a hand over her hair. “Why, sweetie, I already told you my name is Addison Johnson.” Her sugary tone of voice sounded strained. Why didn’t anyone believe her? The first time she’d ever lost her wallet, including her driver’s license. Just lousy timing considering they arrested her for driving a reported stolen vehicle. She was too fact-minded and didn’t believe in fate, so she chalked it up to bad luck. She s