Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Tess
I stare at the two lovely words on the bottom of the page of my Scrivener document.
The End are the best words an author can type and normally I’d be ecstatic, but the only thing I feel is relief. So, as soon as I email the finished book to Paige, I lean back and look across the field at my neighbor’s nearly completed house. He’s been texting and calling from a new number.
Case:
It’s Case. Phone’s gone. This is my new number. Pick up.
Case:
I’m sorry I stood you up. I had an emergency back home. A double emergency. And one of them involves you. Call me back please.
Case:
I need to explain. My life is more complicated than I let on. Answer your phone. This is taking longer than I thought here and I can’t leave. I’ll explain everything if you just call me back.
Case:
I miss you. I hate that I let you down. But it’s important I speak with you. Please pick up the phone.
Case:
Christ. Tessa, answer the phone. I fucked up, I know. But nothing’s changed between us. I still feel the same way about you. I need to talk to you.
And finally, after getting no response to those, he leaves a voice message telling me that a private investigator has photos of us — intimate ones— and he needs my help to keep them from going public. But his most recent message, as of late last night, says he’s back from River’s End. And he’ll bust down my door if I don’t call him back.
I block his number and for good measure, prop kitchen chairs beneath the doorknobs at the front and back of the cottage.
Attempting to swallow the lump in my throat that seems to be permanent now, I remember the picture on his phone, the happy family picture. And the message that came with it. The words pre-term labor sit like cinder blocks on my chest.
Oh, Mack came by the day after I saw the picture, and in as few words as possible, and with plenty of disdain, told me Case had a family emergency and that he’d lost his phone. Mack also made it very clear he didn’t like me.
“Is the baby okay? Case’s wife? Case?”
Mack had looked surprised by my question but answered with a simple, “Case is handling things. He’s where he should be right now ,” confirming my suspicions that Case had another family—that it wasn’t just some misunderstanding.
I stayed in bed, Jake by my side, along with three boxes worth of soggy tear-soaked tissues for three days after that because I was the home wrecker this time and maybe the cause of Case’s wife’s preterm labor. And as if all that wasn’t bad enough, I was in love the bastard.
And being in love is the worst feeling in the world. I didn’t think romantic love was real before Case. How could I? I’d never experienced it. Contentment and complacency, yes. I had that with Gary. But love? I had no idea. And if I could go back to being blind to it, I would. Because damn it, it isn’t worth it.
My pity party had ended two weeks ago now. But no matter how hard I try to forget what it felt like these last few months with Case, the feelings overtake my mind sometimes, and then the hurt is fresh all over again. The woman who hadn’t cried in years, suddenly can’t stop.
Wiping my eyes, I gather a deep cleansing breath and focus again on the good.
The End. Those perfect words. The last and final installment of my contracted book series with my publisher is done. I’m ready to cut ties and start fresh, with what I don’t know.
About to click open my video chat app, I notice an email from my divorce attorney and open it instead. Apparently there’s more good news. My accounts are unfrozen, but closed. The financial babysitter has transferred the money we each get into separate accounts, setting up automatic payments for Gary’s alimony and cancelling all shared credit cards. And all I have to do is go to the local bank branch to get myself set up.
My financial freedom is back, which also means I can go home.
Home doesn’t seem like the right word anymore but at least I can leave the island and my neighbor before he moves his family in. My eyes start to burn so I close the email, and go back to my video app.
Breathing in and out slowly getting my emotions under control, I call Paige. It’s an hour earlier in Ontario, which means it’s only 5 am there, but I can see she’s already online.
“What’s wrong? Is your dad okay?” I say before she can even say hello. Her makeup is smudged, and her eyes are puffy. I’m sure mine look just as bad but my lack of makeup hides it better.
“Good morning, Tess,” she replies. “Nothing is wrong. Dad is fine. The hip surgery was weeks ago, remember?”
“Did you fall asleep at the office with your makeup on? Forget your monthly allergy shot? Poke yourself in the eyes?”
She sighs. “Just a bad day. And you don’t look all that good either.”
“Paige, the day has barely begun. And I have a peckerhead that wakes me at the crack of dawn so of course I look puffy.” It isn’t a lie. “Time for a best friend intervention… Tell me what happened, or I won’t tell you why I called in the first place. And believe me, you want to know why I called.”
“God, you’re a brat. Fine! You remember the client I told you about when we went to lunch? The one I was fighting with?”
I look skyward remembering her words. “You said they were a bigger diva than me.”
“No I said, ‘believe it or not, you’re not the most stubborn client I have’.”
“I was paraphrasing, but okay.” I frown. “Do I have to have a diva-to-diva chat with this woman?”
“It’s a man, but no.”
“A man?” My brow rises. “Did he do something to you?”
She blows out. “I was stupid to fall for it, but he basically put the moves on me so I would introduce him to my family, more specifically my uncle.”
“Uncle Stephen? The one that owns one of the top literary agencies in Canada?” I cock my head. “Why don’t you work for him again?”
“Because he hates romance books even though they’re the largest-grossing genre, and he refused to let me bring you with me to the firm.”
“Oh, right. Well, I hope he’s regretted that. You’re an amazing agent, Paige.”
“Oh, he must have. He’s since changed his mind on the romance genre. Offered me the job of running the department, but I turned him down. I want to come home. There are plenty of authors on the east coast. And I can work remotely with my current clientele. Most of my work is done over the phone or video chat these days anyway.”
Her last two sentences hit me and I lean forward in my chair to get closer to the computer screen. “Wait, what did you say?”
She shrugs. “I’m thinking of coming home. I miss you and my parents are getting older.” She chuckles a moment but it’s sad and nasally as if she’s been crying.
Her announcement brings me back to the point of the call. “Don’t jump the gun for me, Paige. I’m coming back to Toronto. As soon as possible. Now, tell me more about what this dickhead did.”
She nods, her eyes welling. “Right, well his tactics changed.”
“Oh?”
“You know how women kind of go gaga over the Greg House, MD types?”
“Brilliant assholes that are dismissive to most people but have a soft spot for a small few? And when they grace a woman with that kind of sweet special attention it’s like a love potion and the woman falls head over heels in love?”
She slaps her hands on her desk or at least that’s what is sounds like. “Exactly!”
I groan. “Paige, you didn’t.”
“I did. Well, not love, but a lot of like and infatuation. And as soon as I introduced him to my family, my uncle particularly—” Her lip wobbles before she latches it tightly between her teeth and inhales deeply.
“That bastard!” Is that what Case had done? Did he sex me up so I’d stop messing with his build and be putty in his hand? No, because I never stopped messing with his build. So, what was it then? What were his motives? Was it just the challenge? Grr, I don’t care. He needs to go back where he came from. This island isn’t big enough for both of us and his family.
“He didn’t even tell me himself,” Paige says, her voice laced with bitterness, instantly tugging my brain back to her issue. I nod so she knows I’m listening.
“My uncle called and said he would honor his contract, buy me out of it, and add twenty-five percent for my trouble.” She frowns. “Because dark and broody clients are not my thing, and this one obviously used me.” She air quotes before deepening her voice and saying, “ Happy ever afters, Paige, that’s your lane. And nice men who treat you like the precious gem you are. Not this asshat who’ll steal your spark. ” Her head falls into her hands. “I’m such an idiot.”
“No, you’re not, Paige. Your asshole uncle is right. You’ve got spark and when people have that, there’s always someone waiting to snuff it out. And your uncle is a master at separating his work and personal life.”
“I know. It’s just I hate being used.” She deadpans me. “And dammit, I’m attracted to bad boys who have a soft spot for good girls.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “Tell me something I don’t know!”
Paige laughs too and it wipes away the gloom that shadows her face.
“We’ll find you a good bad boy, I promise. But that guy wasn’t it.”
“Are you really moving back here? What about the hottie next door? What about all Gran’s chickens and things?”
“Yes, and I don’t know about the rest. The divorce is final and my finances have been released so my options are open.” I purposely ignore her question about Case because I do not want to admit he’s the one I’m running from. Leaving will be for self-preservation, because just like Paige, I fell for the wrong man. A shitty man who cheats on his pregnant wife. One I don’t plan on seeing with his happy little family across the field.
“Ooh, speaking of divorces. I heard something about Gary.” She smiles brightly now. “Seems he took out a loan on his divorce settlement, invested a large portion into Marie’s father’s company and it tanked. He lost it all.” She snaps her fingers. “And that, bestie, is karma.”
“Suddenly I understand why he flew all the way to Gran’s to get me to reconcile.”
“No way.”
I nod. “Yes way.”
She straightens in her chair folding her hands in front of her. “Okay. We’ll discuss the pig later, I’ve got a client coming in twenty minutes. Why the early call?”
“We don’t need twenty. Check your email.”
She looks down and clicks her mouse. “Oh!” She looks up and all trace of our previous conversation is gone. “Please say this is what I think it is?”
I nod and her face lights up even more. “We need to celebrate!”
“Wait. There’s more. Paige, I’m back. I’m really back! Because that’s not the only book I’ve written while I’ve been here.”
“Oh, my, god, seriously? This is fantastic news! Send it, I’ll start shopping it around.”
“Hang on. Don’t get too excited because the other book is never leaving my hard drive. It was just a fun little project for me. A contemporary erotic romance that will never see the light of day.”
She gasps, her eyes narrowing. “You had better damn well be emailing that to me. And what the hell do you mean you’re not publishing it?” A small smile curves her lips. “Is the reason a tall, broad-shouldered ginger?”
I huff, rolling my eyes. “The point wasn’t the book, Paige, it’s that I’ve broken through the writer’s block.”
“Uh-uh, proof or it never happened.” She falls back in her chair waving her hands.
“What are we, thirteen?”
“Yes, and I need to read it.” She sets her jaw.
I look away, covering my face. “Nope.” I make the mistake of peeking back at my best friend who’s suddenly making sad eyes at me. Fuck.
“I’ve been so sad, Tess, give me something to read that will take my mind off my horrid love life.”
“Read my other book,” I state, but I’m already weakening.
“I need the spice, Tessie, and contemporary. You know I love contemporary. Please.” Her please is long and drawn out and breaks my remaining resolve.
I sigh, but before I can say anything she bounces in her seat.
“Yes!”
I shoot her a stern look. “Only if you promise you won’t try to convince me to publish it. I know you, Paige. And this book is kinky and too full of very vivid sex scenes.”
“Why the hell would I agree to that? I’ve been telling you for years to add some more spice to your books. It’s not as taboo as you think it is. And if you’re really worried, we’ll use a pen name.” She leans forward, resting her chin on her fist. “How kinky is it?”
“Paige, no. If it slipped out that I wrote it, it would ruin me. You’ll see why if you agree not to push the subject of publishing because then, and only then, will you be allowed to read it.”
“Fine.” She groans, sounding like a sullen teen. “Send it.”
I click send after checking the email address at least fifteen times. The thought of the naughty manuscript ending up in a stranger’s inbox makes me sweat.
Blowing out, Paige slumps back in her seat. “You’re just as stubborn as my other authors, Tess Harlow, the only difference is that I love you. I only tolerate them.”
I hear the ding of her email notification through the phone and breathe a sigh of relief.
“Got it.”
“Remember what I said, Paige. No pressure.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She waves her hand as if brushing away my nagging. “Anyway, let me read. I’m dreading my meeting, and I need the distraction.”
“Love you, Paige.”
“Love you, too.”