CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“If it wasn’t for you, I’d be lost. Always running from one place to the next without the first clue why I was running.
Or why I was doing anything—because before you came along, there was no reason for my life.
I pretended it was all for my patients, but I know now that isn’t enough.
I realize, I was missing the other half of myself. You.”
Maggie’s a little breathless, a little swoony once she reaches the end of that passage. Why she felt the need to read it aloud is a mystery to me. I guess that means she loves it.
“I love it,” Maggie gushes. “I absolutely love it. It’s the perfect mix of sweet and heat. That whole scene in the motel room … whew! Tell me that was drawn from real life.”
I roll my eyes, walking down the street while chatting with her on the phone. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“No kidding!”
“No kidding.”
“Well, well, well! Look whose imagination suddenly decided to sprout wings and take flight!” She chortles. “Of course, I take full credit for this turn of events.”
“Of course you do.” I smile through my gritted teeth.
“Well? Who else is responsible? If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be writing about florists and candy-shop owners.”
“There’s nothing wrong with florists or candy-shop owners.”
“You know what I mean. Hell, you could write about a florist who takes it up the ass in the back room of her store, and I’d be fine with that.”
Jeez, I sure hope nobody can hear her as I pass them on the sidewalk. But who am I kidding? Nobody pays attention to anybody else in the middle of Manhattan. They’re all busy with their own phone calls and podcasts and audiobooks and music.
“I’ll take that under consideration,” I offer with a sigh.
“Ooh, and some sensory play with the flowers would be nice too …”
“Okay, I’ll make note of that. Thanks for the input.”
“We’re thinking of the title for the current book now,” she informs me. “Her Dirty Doctor is the one at the top of the list. What do you think?”
“I think it doesn’t matter whether I like the title or not. You’re going to go with whatever sounds better to you. But wasn’t there a podcast not long ago about a doctor, and it had the word dirty in it?”
“Hmm. I’ll have to look into that. You know I don’t pay attention to podcasts and the like.”
No, she’s too busy reading about shifters impregnating girls against their will and stuff like that. She makes it sound like podcasts are beneath her.
“Anyway, so long as you’re happy and the book gets published, I’m okay with it.” And I am.
It’s getting easier to write the way she wants me to, the way the current market demands I do. I imagined it would be beneath me, but that’s not true at all.
I needed to challenge myself and stretch my muscles, and I have.
Now, I need to come up with the next sucker—or rather, the next man to date. Just the thought of it makes me groan softly.
“Can I ask you something?” Maggie suddenly adds, just when I thought the conversation was over.
“Sure.” I have a few more blocks to walk anyway, and without her to distract me, there’s no telling where my thoughts might go.
“Are you happy? Writing this way, I mean. Does it fulfill you?”
What a question. I figured she’d ask if I could include more anal play in the next book. Maggie manages to surprise me, even after working with her for several years.
“I guess? I haven’t thought about it,” I admit. “I’ve been too busy trying to keep my career afloat to worry about whether I’m fulfilled by my work.”
This is a new direction for us. She’s never taken the time to ask personal questions like this. I’ve always figured she looks at me as a word monkey who bangs against a keyboard all day until something worthwhile comes out.
“I don’t want you to think I don’t care,” she explains. “I do. While I need books that will sell and you’ve done a great job so far, I don’t want to think they’ve come at the expense of your self-respect and happiness with your work.”
Is she serious? I almost want to ask that very question—and I would, if I didn’t know it would insult her up and down. I sorta like this softer side my editor’s been hiding from me all this time.
“Lois has been concerned too,” she adds, which just about makes me drop the phone.
“I was afraid I didn’t have an agent anymore after she left me high and dry.” I snort.
It’s been weeks since I’ve even heard from her—and that was nothing more than a congratulatory note after my first sexy book was picked up by the publisher.
“You do. Though you hardly need her at this point.”
“You wouldn’t be interested in cutting me loose from my agent, so you can offer whatever you want without a go-between telling me to ask for more money, would you?” I ask with a knowing grin.
Lois might be getting on in years, and she might have a bad habit of falling asleep in the middle of meetings, but she’s a shrewd one when it comes to negotiating.
“Never!” Maggie gasps just a little louder than she should.
We leave it there and say our good-byes before I slide the phone into my pocket as I enter the dog park.
Instantly, two familiar huskies come running up to meet me.
“Hi, boys,” I murmur, kissing their heads and loving on them. “How’ve you been? Have you been good boys? Not terrorizing any tiny dogs around here, are you?”
“You should have a dog.”
I look up from where I’m crouched in front of the dogs. “You know, I’ve been thinking that lately myself. Goodness knows I’m home enough of the time. They wouldn’t even have to miss me.”
This is the reason I was glad for Maggie’s call as I walked to the park. I knew I’d drive myself nuts if I was left to my own devices and worried about this little meeting all through my walk.
I’ve already done enough worrying ever since Jake texted me yesterday to ask if I had time to meet up.
Why? I still don’t know. I don’t have anything to be worried about. In the weeks since that disastrous night in my bed, I’ve made peace with how things went down. This was never supposed to be forever, no matter how nice it would’ve been if forever had been in the cards.
That, and working my fingers to the bone has been enough to get me through it.
Though now? Now, I’m in front of him. I can smell his cologne. I can see his … everything. All of him. And darned if he doesn’t still affect me physically, just the way he always has. I want to climb him and never come down.
I’m a grown-up. I can juggle knowing this isn’t right with knowing I’ll never stop being attracted to him. And not just because he’s disgustingly gorgeous.
Because he’s a decent man. A sweetheart. He deserves to be happy.
“How’ve you been?” he asks as the dogs trot off to have fun with their buddies.
“Good. Finished the book and slogged through the edits. My editor’s happy with it, says they’re already coming up with titles.” I mime wiping sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. “So, that’s a relief.”
He nods, smiling just a little. But the smile doesn’t reach his eyes, which look flat. “I didn’t mean that—not just that anyway. Though I’m glad.”
“I’d be happy to send you an advance copy, so you’ll see how complimentary I was,” I offer. “I didn’t bad-mouth you or anything like that. In fact, your character ends up saving the heroine’s life.”
“How?”
I hold up a finger, wagging it back and forth. “You’ll have to read it. No spoilers.”
That gets a chuckle out of him anyway. “How are you though? How’ve you been … personally?”
Personally? There’s a question I suspect he’d regret having asked if he had any idea.
“I’ve been working. Too busy to worry about anything else,” I admit with a shrug.
He doesn’t believe me. I can’t blame him.
“What about you? How’ve you been?” Since, ya know, you’re the one who moaned your ex-girlfriend’s name in my ear moments before entering me.
I don’t think the onus is on me to lead this conversation. Am I wrong? I don’t think I’m wrong.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he begins, shoving his balled-up fists into his pockets and rocking back and forth from heel to toe. “Like you suggested. Like I needed to do.”
“That’s good.” I have to bite the sides of my tongue to keep from blurting out the hundred or so questions racing around in my head, competing to see which one gets out first.
“And there’s definitely no chance of anything happening with Erin and me ever again.
I want to make sure you know that,” he adds, looking from the dogs to me.
“That was never an option. Never on the table. I wasn’t lying when I told you how things fell apart for us. We’ll never be on the same page again.”
“I’m glad for you. I mean that. You’re doing so well as you are, the way you’ve changed your life. I’d hate to see you turn into some uptight, stressed-out machine.”
“You and me both.” He scuffs the toe of his shoe against the ground, looking down at it. “Still, I have things to get through. I made myself stop thinking about her when she left, told myself it was over. The end. Maybe that wasn’t the smart way to go.”
“We do what we can.”
“I guess so. All I know is, I don’t want to hurt you. I need you to know that.”
“I do.”
When he holds out his arms, there’s nothing for me to do but go to him. I need one more of his big hugs even if something inside twists and tightens when his arms close around me.
Darn it. This could’ve been good.
“I don’t want you to have to be around me while I’m trying to get over somebody I know I have no future with,” he murmurs against the top of my head. “That’s not fair to you.”
“You’re right,” I have to admit. “No hard feelings. And no hard feelings about me killing you at the end of my book.”
“What?” he gasps, holding me at arm’s length. “Are you kidding?”
“Yes!” I laugh. “Rule number one: happily ever after. I can’t kill the hero. Jeez.”
Happily ever after. Is there such a thing? I write about it all the time, don’t I?
But do I believe it actually exists?
Something Matt told me that night rings out in my memory. I just haven’t found the right one yet. The happily ever after one.
That doesn’t mean he’s not out there.
“I’d better get these guys home,” he says before calling them over and clipping their leashes to their collars. He looks and sounds relieved, which I can certainly relate to. Like he was dreading this the way I was.
“Maybe I’ll run into you in the ER sometime?” I suggest with a grin when he turns my way one last time.
I wish I could freeze him like this, right here, with the dogs by his side and sunshine bringing out the gold streaks in his hair and eyes. Smiling.
He shakes his head. “Is it wrong to say I hope not?”
“No. I guess it’s pretty nice actually. Though odds are, I’ll probably be back sometime. I can’t make any promises.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for you.” He winks and then, “Oh. One more thing.”
“What?”
“Learn to have a little fun. Life’s about more than working in your apartment. Make it a point to get out sometimes, just to live. Okay?”
He’s right. If there’s anything I’ve learned from him besides the proper way to perform the Heimlich maneuver, it’s the importance of stepping away from work and turning my attention to my actual life. Funny, but being with Blake should’ve taught me that.
Jake drove the point home and showed me it’s possible to have a life. There I was, thinking I was so much better at striking a balance than Blake was.
“I will,” I vow before waving one last time and walking away.