CHAPTER 24
One month ago, Lux had said her forever goodbye to Scott.
Since then, she’d completed the Win a Rake in Eight Days challenge by going on dates with guys from the Flirtation Gala, without Scott there to coach her.
The first date had been with the idiot who had asked her to be his mistress.
The second with John. Or, as Scott called him, Corduroy.
The first date had lasted all of one hour before Lux had left him sitting in a bar cleaning up the Bloody Mary she’d poured over his head—that, after he’d reached out and pinched her nipple on a whim because that’s what filthy rich guys do. Asshole.
On the second date, instead of leaning in for a goodnight kiss, John had pulled out his phone and shared with her his latest Instagram post. In it, he’d declared his official love for Dr. Luxury Stone.
Thus, Frankie had claimed victory for Naked Runway, and the fashion magazine had spun the story, painting Lux’s new beau as a rake in sheep’s clothing. A rake who’d approached her as a fumbling professor in order to win her over.
It was a narrative that Lux had found both amusing and frustrating.
Date three with John had happened only after he’d promised to tone down the whole insta-love thing.
Much to Lux’s delight, John had not only kept his word on that, but he’d also thrown himself into getting to know her. Hell, he’d slowed things down so much, he’d yet to even pressure her for sex.
Tonight was date eleven with John. He’d brought her to a small Italian bistro.
“Have I mentioned how lovely you look tonight?” He topped off her wine.
“A couple of times,” Lux responded, her fingers tracing the stem of her wine glass, pulling her thoughts back to the present.
The light from the candle flickered across her date’s thoughtful expression, highlighting the premature gray in his hair. John, a renowned figure in academia, exuded a kindness she’d always sought in the man of her forever romance.
She reached out and placed her hand on his. “I get the feeling you want to say something but aren’t sure if you should.”
“You’re not wrong,” he said ruefully.
“I promise not to overreact.” The night he’d shown her the Instagram post, she’d slammed her door in his face and refused to return any of his calls for three days. Then she’d realized it wasn’t him she was mad at. It was herself, and she’d answered his next call. They’d talked, she’d set her terms about premature declarations of love, he’d agreed, and they’d made up. “And I won’t stomp out in a temper.”
He sat back and chuckled good-naturedly.
She liked that about him. It was one of the many things she liked about him. Sure, he wasn’t anywhere near as handsome as Scott, and his body—what she could feel of it when he hugged her good night—was softer than the rake’s. And his kisses didn’t produce butterflies in her stomach. But those things didn’t matter. What mattered was he was safe.
“I’ve been offered a position at Harvard.” The slight tilt to his chin told her just how excited he was about the opportunity. And why shouldn’t he be?
“Wow,” she said, a tiny bit of envy causing her voice to pitch high. “That’s incredible.”
“I agree,” he said in what she’d come to think of as his trademark lack of humility. That was something he had in common with the rakes of Manhattan.
“Why would you be afraid to tell me that?”
“In my discussions with the committee,” John said. “Your name came up as my probable future fiancée.”
“Oh.” They were back to that again. Damn.
“They’re quite keen on having me join their faculty and are willing to create a position for you as well.” John continued to watch her closely. “It’s a rare chance, Luxury. A dual appointment at Harvard.”
Harvard was the dream for many in their field, a pinnacle of academic success. Yet having the offer tangled with his mention of their probable future marriage tied a knot in her stomach.
Telling herself not to overreact, she paused and checked for any flickers of excitement at the idea of someday saying yes to him. Any glimmers that her heart understood the assignment. Fall in love with a safety-net guy.
There were none.
And that aside, the idea of securing a position at Harvard—as a sweetening of the pot for John to accept his offered position—left her feeling undervalued, her achievements reduced to mere leverage.
“Harvard is impressive,” Lux conceded, her voice steady despite the contradictory emotions she felt. “But I’m not comfortable making a career move just to be part of someone else’s negotiation.”
John’s eyebrows rose slightly at her response, a mixture of surprise and admiration flickering in his eyes. “That, my dear Luxury, is why I was nervous to bring up the topic. But no matter how you get your foot in the Ivy League door, it’s a strategic move. You’d be part of one of the most esteemed academic communities in the world. And it would certainly help put the whole Scott Landshire debacle behind you.”
Lux gave him a tight smile. Was her social media presence what had provoked him to apply at Harvard? A desire to remove the woman he wanted to marry away from the place where everyone knew her as Scott Landshire’s foe?
“Thank you for considering me, John, but I must decline,” Lux said, her words measured. “If I were in love with you, it would be different. I’d jump at your offer. But don’t let me stop you from taking the position. In fact, I insist you go.”
His lips tightened ever so slightly. “Without you?”
She nodded.
John shook his head. “I never stood a chance against him, did I?”
“There is no him. My saying no to you has nothing to do with Scott.”
John motioned for the check. “Then I guess this is it.”
“I’m sorry, but you deserve a woman who is as crazy about you as you are about them.” And she deserved a man who would fight harder than John had just done to get her to change her mind. Like Scott had. Only not Scott.
Two hours later, Lux, wearing pajamas and a clay mask on her face, sat in her apartment preparing for her final radio show. One she’d entitled: Hypnosis for the Broken-Hearted.
Unfortunately, her scattered thoughts made it impossible to compile her show notes.
Not that she was surprised. It was hard to concentrate when show note number one had the words written on it: Admit you fell in love with the Rake of Manhattan. Note two: Go public with how the Mr. Insta-Love relationship had gone. Note three: Moving forward.
What would moving forward look like?
Her gut told her to try hypnosis, thus the title. Only her heart rebelled at the idea of being stripped of its memory of loving Scott.
It didn’t help that her thoughts kept drifting to the broadcast of Monday Musings she had done right after Scott had left. It had been a tumultuous episode, filled with raw emotions and candid revelations. She had publicly admitted she’d been wrong about Scott as a person, dispelling the misconceptions she had once fervently broadcast.
In that same episode, she had spoken of John—Frankie had insisted she do so. It had been a bittersweet situation to find herself in. While she appreciated having a wonderful man like John crazy for her, her time with Scott was a melody that refused to quietly fade into the night.
Lux’s fingers tapped a rhythmic beat on her desk. Monday”s broadcast would be her opportunity to share her growth and her realizations one last time. It would be her moment to step out of the shadow of RAKEish and Naked Runway, to forge her own path, independent of the narratives others had woven around her.
Had she grown? Were there any startling new realizations for her to share? She was not the same woman who had started that show—she was someone stronger, wiser, and, for the first time in a very long time, ready to embrace her feminine side.
The question that remained: would she ever trust her heart on an unchartered path when it came to love? Or would she always be the woman who looked for the safe route?
Which left her with a decision. Yay or nay—hypnosis for the broken hearted.
As she was about to flip a coin, a knock at her door interrupted the moment. It was times like these, she wished her building had a doorman.
For a hot second, she allowed herself to imagine that it was Scott knocking at her door. And when she opened it, he would tell her he had a broken heart—not penis—and would she please help him fix it. That was how the dream that started it all had been analyzed. In her sleep, Lux’s brain had conjured a man like him wanting a woman like her to ease the truth of her reality and the whole dating app debacle.