CHAPTER ELEVEN
“What did he say?” Hayley asks.
“He said he would love to. Like, he didn’t even hesitate. He jumped right in and said he would love to come with me.”
“That’s amazing! And terrible at the same time.”
“Oh, you mean because my grandmother is going to make a big deal about it and embarrass me until I wish I were dead?”
“Yes, that’s roughly what I had in mind.” She sounds sympathetic at least, though there’s definitely an edge of laughter in her voice.
“She’d be even worse if I didn’t manage to get him on the hook for it, so I guess I have to take my victories where I can get them.” I sigh, looking out over the edge of the roof, toward the park. “If he makes it through this, he might be a keeper.”
“He sounds like a keeper already from what you’ve told me.” Then, she snorts. “Except for the ex-girlfriend. There’s always a stupid ex-girlfriend in the mix, isn’t there?”
“I wouldn’t expect somebody like him to have never dated,” I point out.
“You know what I mean. You’ve dated before, too, but you don’t parade your exes around. Not in front of somebody you only just started dating casually anyway.”
“That’s true. Though in the context of the story he was telling me, it made sense for him to bring her up. She didn’t agree with the direction his life was going in, but he had to make a decision. He chose to take care of himself. I admire him for that; I really do.”
“Jake and Kitty, sitting in a tree …”
“Hush.”
“F-U-C-K-I-N-G …”
“Grow up.” I laugh. Really, she could say just about anything to me at this point, and it wouldn’t matter. I’m on cloud nine.
Because here’s the thing: as much as I’m not looking forward to my grandmother embarrassing me, which I know she will, I’m very much looking forward to walking into a swanky birthday gala with an impossibly gorgeous, hunky doctor on my arm. Who wouldn’t?
And it’s a relief, too, that Jake didn’t look at me like I’d suddenly sprouted a second head when I asked. That was what I’d expected him to do, but I should know better by now than to predict his reactions. He’s a very unpredictable sort of person.
Maybe I need more of that in my life. Maybe that’s part of the reason I’m so attracted to him. It makes me feel better to think this way since, otherwise, I’d have to admit I’m just in need of a good lay.
Once I get off the phone with Hayley, I get back to work. The dog park situation is just too funny to not include in a book, though I do what I can to change some of the details. My character’s dogs are not huskies but golden retrievers.
What can I say? I’m not the most original person in the world, and I just sprained my ankle last weekend, thanks to a certain golden retriever. Plus, I need an energetic breed of dog, and that was the first one that came to mind.
“I should’ve known I’d find you up here on a day like this.”
Yes, only the presence of my neighbor could dampen my spirits. Maybe not dampen my spirits exactly, but he is sort of the fly in the ointment. I only just got back to work, and now, he’s joining me.
“Who could stand to be inside on a day like this?” I ask as he pulls his chair out from its customary spot under the ledge.
“Well, I obviously agree with you.” He takes a seat near me, eyeing my laptop with interest. “Working on the next best seller?”
“Why do you make it sound like that’s a bad thing?”
“Ouch! Take it easy. Things not going well with your hot doctor?”
Who could blame me for feeling a little bit smug right now?
“I’ll have you know, Mr. Smarty-Pants, that he just agreed to come with me to my grandmother’s seventy-fifth birthday party in a couple of weeks. So, there.”
He frowns. “He’s coming with you to a family party?”
“Can you not sound so snide?”
“Answer my question.”
“There’s nothing to answer. I already told you.
Yes, he’s coming with me, though I think you have the wrong idea about the sort of party this is.
It’s not like renting out the back room of a restaurant and filling it with balloons and a collage of pictures from my grandmother’s life.
If anything, it might be less stressful if that were the sort of party we were going to. Grandmother is …”
“The fact that you call her Grandmother alone tells me a lot.” Matt snickers.
“Well, she is a lot. She can be a bit much sometimes, but she’s the only family I have.”
“Is she rich?”
Though I know it shouldn’t, his question makes me bristle, like I have something to defend. “Actually, yes, she is quite wealthy. She lives in a brownstone over on Park Avenue, and her idea of casual clothing is a silk Chanel jumpsuit. Vintage.”
“I’m not quite sure what that means, but I think I can pick it up through context.” He blows a low whistle through pursed lips. “And you’re bringing this guy you barely know to the party?”
“She asked me to. Or rather ordered me to. I’m pretty sure I’d be turned away at the door if I showed up without him.”
His eyebrows shoot up, his mouth falling open, and I immediately wish I hadn’t said it. “So, you told her about him already? Bragging to Grandmother about the doctor you scored?”
“No, you idiot. She ran into us when we were having lunch outside, and that was when she saw him. Trust me, I would never have thought of it myself.”
“What does he think about being part of your next book?”
Damn him. I have to look away since I don’t want him to see the guilt in my eyes. “He doesn’t know about that.”
“Of course he doesn’t,” he says with a huff.
“Why should he? For Pete’s sake, I’ve seen him twice since that day in the ER, and he’s coming to a birthday party with me. It’s not like we’ve made any promises to each other. It’s not like we’re even dating really.”
He eyes my laptop. “How do you have the two of them meeting? Your characters, I mean.”
“You’ll read it in the book,” I retort, tossing my hair over one shoulder.
“Let me guess. The girl hurts herself and ends up in the ER, and the doctor who treats her just happens to be the hero she’s been waiting for her entire life. He just about knocks her over with his sheer sexuality, but what really gets her is how gentle and tender he is. Right?”
“Gee, you missed your calling. You should be the one who’s writing.”
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You are wrong.”
“How so? Don’t tell me she meets him through online dating.”
“No, but she does have a couple of dismal dates after trying to find a boyfriend online.”
He laughs. “I’m sure none of that was drawn from real-life experience. I’ve noticed how you haven’t done any bragging about the results of your profile yet.”
“Mostly because there hasn’t been anything worth bragging about.” Besides, I’m not like him. I don’t need to celebrate my conquests the way he does. Also, there’s the fact that I haven’t had any conquests lately.
“So, come on. How do they meet?”
I hate him so much right now. “Her grandmother falls and calls her for help. She takes her grandmother to the emergency room, and he is the doctor who treats her.”
“So original.”
“There’s nothing new under the sun. Haven’t you ever heard that saying?” When he laughs, I insist, “I mixed things up!”
“Yes, you just happened to include your grandmother, who is currently at the forefront of your mind because she’s having a birthday party …”
“How the heck do you think writing happens, genius? This is how it’s done, especially when my editor keeps telling me I need to get out and live a little. It seemed like as good a reason as any to have the two of them meet up.”
“And let me guess. Does the grandmother have a birthday party, and she invites the doctor because he was so nice to her at the hospital?”
I hate him twice as much as I did just thirty seconds ago.
“Now that you mention it, that’s a very good way to get him at that party.
Grandmother tries to hook the two of them up.
They both see it for what it is and walk into it, thinking this is all funny and awkward and goofy, but they end up developing an interest in each other, which explodes in a frenzy of animal passion—”
He waves his hand, shaking his head. “Spare me, please. I don’t need the sordid details.”
“To be fair, there aren’t any sordid details yet. But there will be.”
“In the book? Or in real life?”
I meet his gaze fully, unblinking. “Maybe both. Would that be such a problem?”
“Well, I’m sure that’s where his mind is going.”
I roll my eyes with a sigh. “You can’t possibly know that. You don’t even know him.”
“Neither do you.”
“But I’m getting to know him.”
“And I know guys. I happen to be one myself.”
“No kidding!” I roll my eyes again. “I don’t need a lecture on the way men’s minds work. I’m not some blushing virgin even if I give the impression of one.”
“I’m just saying, being a writer doesn’t make you a genius when it comes to the way people think. Their motivations, you know what I mean. And I’m telling you, there’s a reason why he accepted your invitation.”
“Because he’s a nice guy who likes me? God forbid.”
“Mark my words. He’s trying to get into your pants.”
“You’re so mean.”
“I didn’t know it was mean to warn a girl when another guy is trying to get her in bed. Not exactly a bad thing.”
“Then, why do you make it sound like it’s such a bad thing? Like there’s something I need to be worried about or wary of.”
He shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away from me.
“I’m just saying, there are a lot of guys out there who would be willing to lead a girl in one direction, make her think they really like her, when really they just want to sleep with her.
They’ll do just about anything to get what they want. And when they’re finished?” He shrugs.
“Speaking from experience, are we?”
That doesn’t get the reaction I expected. Rather than firing off a little quip or smirking or generally being a jerk, he shrugs again. “Yeah, I am. Why not be honest? You already think I’m a lowlife slug.”
“Okay, hang on a second. I don’t know that I would go that far—”
“I know you don’t think I have much respect for women. There. Is that better?”
Well, I can’t argue with that, so I don’t bother trying.
And there’s that smirk I expected, a smirk that says he knows he was right. “Like I said, I know how men think. And I don’t want you … being disappointed.”
Is that it? Is he only trying to help me? When I consider this, it makes me feel bad for giving him such a hard time.
I clear my throat, shifting a little in my chair because, darn it, this makes me uncomfortable. “I know what I’m in this for,” I insist. “I’m not trying to catch feelings this time around. This is supposed to be fun—and for work too. I have to take this seriously.”
Rather than backing off, he turns to me with a different sort of look in his eye. There’s a hardness there now. “Right, and that’s the other thing I have a problem with.”
“No offense, but did I ask you if you had a problem with anything? Furthermore—and still no offense—does it matter? This is my life, not yours.”
“I’m not allowed to tell you when I think you’re doing the wrong thing?”
I should say no, he’s not allowed.
No, I should tell him it doesn’t matter either way whether he thinks I’m doing the right or the wrong thing. I don’t know who gave him permission to pass judgment on my life, but it sure as heck wasn’t me. Where does he get off? The man’s ego never ceases to amaze me.
“I don’t remember asking for your opinion,” I retort.
“I know you know it’s not cool to conveniently forget to tell him he’s part of a book you’re writing. I know you know that.”
“And yet you feel the need to say it out loud anyway,” I mutter, looking up at the sky.
“That’s why you can’t look at me right now.”
I slowly lower my head, meeting him straight-on. “Better? Trust me, that’s not the reason I didn’t want to look at you.”
He lets this go since he’s too busy attacking me.
“I mean, it would be one thing if you were just casually dating and having fun. But you’re taking him to a family party.
That’s the sort of thing that gives a person ideas.
It might make them think they’re more important to you than they are.
I think it’s only right for you to come clean. ”
I wish I could argue with him. I really, truly do. But I know he’s right. I’m doing the same thing Blake did to me.
“I’ll take your advice into consideration, okay?”
“That’s a lame thing to say.”
“What, you’re going to criticize how I talk now too?” I barely have time to shut my laptop before springing up from my chair. “I didn’t come up here to be criticized by somebody who … who …”
He holds up a hand, snickering. “Don’t worry. I get the general idea. Save your words for the book you’re writing.”
“You’d better be careful,” I warn as I fold up my chair, slamming it shut before jamming it beneath the ledge running around the edge of the roof. “You might end up in one of my books, and it won’t be pretty.”
“If that’s the worst you can do to me, I think I’ll be just fine.”
Damn him for laughing as I storm away. Damn him in general.