Object of My Desire

by R. L. Kenderson

  I’d left with a nice good-bye, deleted his number off my phone, and gone home and gotten myself off. I might have looked up some half-naked pictures of Travis first, but nobody could prove that, and I wasn’t going to admit to anything.

  I had friend-requested Travis on Facebook and followed him on Instagram after returning home from the book signing but gotten nothing in return from him. He hadn’t accepted my request or followed me back. I’d commented on a few of his posts, too, just to show him I was out there, but nothing. Every time I saw that he’d liked every single one of Angela’s posts, I got jealous. I was also envious of the obvious friendship that I’d witnessed when I met them. It wasn’t that I didn’t want them to be friends. I just wanted to be close to him like that, too.

  But jealousy was a rotten emotion, and I wanted to believe that I was maturer than that. I hated feeling that way. I’d done jealousy when I was younger. I’d been on the receiving and giving end, and it was never pretty.

  I thought about unfollowing Travis, but then that seemed petty, like I was doing it because he wasn’t following me. So, instead, I swiped the notification, making it disappear from my screen. I put my car in drive and headed home.

  “Hey, Lexie,” I called out when I got home.

  “In here,” she answered as I took off my wet shoes and hung up my coat.

  I walked into the living room. “What’s up?”

  She shrugged, making her long, dark hair fall off her shoulders. “Nothing. Just wanted to come over. Do you care if I spend the night?”

  I dropped down beside her on the couch. “Of course not. Everything okay?”

  She pulled her legs to her chest and put her chin on her knee. “Yeah. Brendan and I had a fight.”

  “Oh, honey.” I put my hand on her back and rubbed. Brendan was Lexie’s boyfriend, and they often ran hot and cold. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I think we both need to just cool off. Is it bad that I don’t want to talk to him right now?”

  I shook my head. “No. Sometimes, it’s better to talk about things later.” I pulled her into a hug. “You’re welcome to hang out as long as you want.”

  Lexie pulled away and sat back up. “Thanks.”

  I slapped my hands on my knees. “I wish I could stay and chat, but I have to get some work done before I start dinner.” I stood. “Are you helping me?”

  “Sure.”

  “Thank God. Come find me around four if I don’t emerge from my cave, okay?”

  Lexie laughed. “Will do.”

  I went upstairs to one of the bedrooms that I used as my office and shut the door to drown out any noises from downstairs. Maleficent pushed the door open a crack, and I left it as she jumped onto my desk to lie down next to my computer. I hit the power button, and after it started, I pulled up my latest manuscript. It was a completely different book from the one I’d been working on five months ago, and I was in love with the story.

  It was a story about a young girl who fell in love with her older neighbor. She was in middle school, and he was the big, popular high schooler. He graduated, and his family moved away. Fast-forward to fifteen years later where she was a physical therapist, and she was assigned to help an injured military veteran whom no one wanted to deal with because he was a jerk. The client ended up being her former neighbor and was so completely different from the boy she used to idolize.

  I had titled it Beautifully Broken, thanks to one of my readers, and I’d had a lot of fun writing the book. Unfortunately, I was only halfway through editing the eighty-thousand-word book, and I still had to figure out what I wanted to do about the cover. I was starting to push the deadline and needed to make a decision. I had another book signing in two months, and I wanted to have the book completed by then. I also needed to get all my information to my PR representative so that she could get my blog tour started.

  With a sigh, I opened my book and made myself read through at least ten chapters before I started looking at photographs for the front of my book. I hit a good roll and actually made it through fifteen chapters before I stopped. I saved my work and closed it.

  Next stop: handsome men and beautiful women.

  When I’d started writing books, I couldn’t afford much. So, like many authors, I’d used stock photos. I had books published with those photos, and I still loved those covers, too. However, every once in a while, someone would accuse me in a roundabout way of stealing. I would then explain that stock photos were royalty-free photographs that could be used over and over again by multiple authors. It always irked me when someone would call me a thief and then ignore my explanation.

  So, as soon as I could comfortably afford it, I started purchasing exclusive photos for my books. I loved that I had a picture that no one else would have. The only downside was that I had to make sure I loved it. At anywhere from three hundred to eight hundred dollars an image, I had to make sure I was ready for it to be on my book for life. With a stock photo, they were a lot cheaper, and I could change out the image later if I wanted to.

  I went to one of my favorite photographer’s websites. I had been avoiding it because I discovered that Travis was one of the models he photographed. A lot. Before I’d met him, Travis had been a blip on my radar. So much so that I never even realized that I had looked at some of his images before. Now, I had been going out of my way to avoid it.

  It wasn’t like I didn’t want to see pictures of him. I just didn’t want to see a particular picture of him. It was one that I wanted for the cover of my book so incredibly badly, but there was a part of me that was so afraid that it would show the world I liked him. Like there would be a huge neon sign over my head, announcing that he was my number one crush.

  I knew that was absolutely ridiculous. No one actually knew how I felt, except Harper, and even she didn’t know how much I thought about the guy. Plus, it was doubtful he remembered me. He wouldn’t think anything of me putting him on the cover of my book.

  Sometimes, I really wished I could get out of my own head. I loved the stories it came up with for my fictional characters, but it didn’t need to come up with drama for my real life. I was very happy, living drama-free.

  My office door opened behind me, and Lexie said, “Wow. That’s hot.”

  I sighed. “I know.”

  Travis was lying on a bed with a beautiful blonde. He was shirtless with his jeans riding low. She wore a blouse that was unbuttoned to mid-chest with a hint of cleavage showing in a very sensual way. Her head was turned away from Travis, and he had his mouth on her neck. It was very sexy.

  And, man, did I want to be that woman. Surprisingly, this didn’t make me jealous. I thought it was because I knew that it wasn’t real. It was staged, and they were posing. But it sure as hell made me want. It made me want to be her and for his mouth to be on my neck and for it to be real.

  She stepped closer. “Hey, is that the guy you met at your book signing?”

  “Yeah.” My face suddenly felt warm.

  “And you’re just sitting in here, drooling over his picture, because you think he’s hot or what?”

  I turned my head and shot her a look. Teenagers.

  “Yes, he’s gorgeous, but I’m looking at it because I really want it for my next book cover. Their hair colors match my characters’, and there is actually a scene where it would be a perfect match.”

  “So, why don’t you buy it?”

  “Because I’m afraid it’ll be weird.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “How?”

  “Because I just met him, and then I put him on my book. What if he thinks I’m a crazy stalker or something now?”

  “Are you?”

  I gave her an are you kidding me look. “No, I’m not stalking him. But I did start following him on social media.”

  “Okay, but did you start following anyone else you met at the signing?”

  “Oh, yeah. Several authors and I became friends even.”

  “An
d have you bought their books?”

  “Some of them, yes.”

  “And you don’t think that they think you’re stalking them, right?”

  “Well … no.”

  She was right. It was because I liked him. But, if I took a step back and objectively thought about it, there would be nothing to me buying a picture of him after I met him. Just like I had done with the authors I’d met.

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “How did you get to be so smart?”

  “It’s because I come from a long line of smart people, including my aunt.”

  I laughed. “Good answer.”

  She pretended to brush off her shoulder. “I know.” She nudged me. “Do it. Buy the picture. You’re never going to be happy with anything else if this is the one you want.”

  She was right again. And he was only one person. I was going to have hundreds of fans who would hopefully love my cover.

  “Okay, I’ll e-mail the photographer and my book cover designer.”

  She clapped her hands, and her brown eyes sparkled. “Yay.”

  “Go on. Get out of here, so I can get that done. Then, we can start dinner.”

  She walked toward the door. “Just remember who helped you. You might want to dedicate this book to me.”

  “I’ve already dedicated two others to you.”

  “You can never have too many dedicated to me.”

  I laughed as she walked away. Then, I opened up my e-mail and drafted my first message.

  I left my office, feeling very excited. The photographer had thankfully been available right away. I sent my money, he sent the photo, and I sent it off to my book designer. I couldn’t wait to see the finished product.

  Jessica and I had been working together since I started, and we had become friends. She told me she’d already been working on some ideas but was just waiting for the final main piece. Whenever she sent my book covers, it was like Christmas, and I was a child who couldn’t wait to open my gift.

  I walked into my kitchen in a great mood to see Lexie had already started working on dinner. She was peeling the potatoes because she knew I hated that job.

  “You’re the best niece ever. Why can’t you be my kid?”

  She laughed as I grabbed the two pounds of beef from the fridge. Tonight, we were having meatloaf and mashed potatoes. It wasn’t a fancy dinner, but it was my late mother’s recipe and my father’s favorite. He couldn’t cook to save his life, so I enjoyed making it for him.

  I got out the rest of the ingredients, but before I got my hands dirty, I poured myself a glass of wine.

  “Can I have some?”

  I laughed. “No.”

  We got into our cooking groove, and before I knew it, the meatloaf was in the oven, the potatoes were on the stove, and my family was at my door.

  “Smells good in here, Sydney,” my father boomed as he came through the door.

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  My brother and sister-in-law were right behind him.

  “Hey, Ryan. Hey, Grace,” I said. “Where are Ben and Gretchen?”

  “Slowly getting out of the car,” my brother said. “When you can’t turn your phone off for two minutes, it makes normal activities twice as long.”

  Ben was thirteen, and Gretchen was eleven, and I thought they were worse than Lexie when it came to their phones. To me, that always seemed backward.

  The two of them came through the door a few seconds later, both with their eyes on their screens.

  “Hey. Nice of you to make it,” I said.

  They both looked up and smiled.

  “Hey, Aunt Sydney,” Ben said, and Gretchen gave me a hug.

  Everyone took off their coats and hung them in the closet.

  My father had his usual Minnesota Vikings jersey on even though football season was over. It was either Vikings, Twins, or a Wild jersey or shirt. I honestly didn’t think he owned anything besides sports clothes. Maybe one button-up shirt for those rare, special occasions, like a wedding.

  My brother was a pharmaceutical rep and dressed up for his job, so he liked to wear T-shirts and jeans on his days off. Don’t be fooled however. They were two-hundred-dollar jeans and fifty-dollar T-shirts. No Hanes or Fruit of the Loom for Ryan.

  And my sister-in-law was always dressed up and looking fancy. We got along really well, but we were so different. I was wearing Old Navy jeans and a comfortable sweater from Maurice’s. My brown hair had air-dried after my shower, and I’d brushed once this afternoon. I wore minimal makeup that had probably worn off from this morning. I thought I’d gotten my fashion sense from my dad.

  Grace, on the other hand, looked like she was going out for dinner and drinks with her other high-class friends. Her blonde hair was curled and styled, her makeup was flawless, her clothes were stylish, and her jewelry matched perfectly. And she had on high heels. I didn’t even own high heels, and she was wearing them to a casual family dinner.

  There was a time when I had tried to be someone more like Grace. I had gone through a phase in college where I tried to be cute and stylish every day, but it was such a chore. Things like that came naturally to Grace. It was just the kind of person she was. And the kind of person I wasn’t.

  We might get along, but we never were and never would be really good friends.

  She was also the kind of woman I pictured Travis being with. Someone who always looked beautiful and was dressed to the nines. My style was comfortable and casual. That meant I had to make sure to leave the house looking like I wasn’t a homeless person.

  The nice thing about being in my mid-thirties was that any insecurity I’d had when I was younger about not being that kind of woman was long gone. I was who I was, and if I started dating a guy, even Travis, and he wanted me to be fancier, I would say, See ya. Life was too short to spend two hours getting ready every morning.

  If that was your thing, awesome for you. In fact, my sister-in-law probably had her routine down to a fraction of the two hours it would take me. And, if you enjoyed it, go for it. I didn’t. I’d rather, write, read, watch TV, or even go to the gym. But that was just me.

  “You all know to make yourselves comfortable. I’m just going to check on the potatoes.”

  Grace followed me into the kitchen. “Hey, honey,” she said and pulled her daughter into a hug. “How was your afternoon?”

  Lexie smiled. “Good. And yours?”

  “Good. I’m glad to be here now though.”

  “Wine?” I asked Grace.

  She grinned. “You know you don’t have to ask me twice.”

  I poured her a glass and topped off my own. Then, I grabbed a beer each for my dad and brother and took it to them like the good hostess I was. They both knew that, after that, they would have to get up and get their own.

  I headed back to the kitchen again when my phone beeped. I pulled it out of my back pocket and scrolled down to the attachment.

  My book cover designer was already done. I held my breath as I opened my e-mail and squealed when I saw the results. I hurried to show Lexie what my cover designer had sent back to me.

  “Lexie, look. My book cover is already done.” I turned my phone around and showed it to her.

  “I love it,” Lexie said.

  “Wow. That is gorgeous,” Grace said.

  I turned the phone back around. “I think so.”

  As I e-mailed my cover designer back, praising her for her awesome skills, Lexie told Grace about who was on my cover.

  “That guy is the model she met in Iowa.”

  “The one you had on your Facebook page?”

  “Yes,” Lexie answered for me.

  To be fair, I had posted all the pictures I’d taken that day on my Facebook page. It wasn’t just the ones of Travis.

  “You should invite him to your next book signing.”

  My eyes flew up, and I laughed uncomfortably. “What?”

  “He’s on the cover of your new boo
k, and he’s hot. You will have readers flock to your table to buy your book.”

  Grace had majored in marketing in college, and she wasn’t wrong. There had been a lot of people at Angela Devlin’s table at the Iowa signing.

  “I would feel like I’m using him.”

  “Didn’t you just buy a picture because you’d met him at the signing?”

  “Yes.”

  She raised her brow. “See? It’s good exposure for him, too. And you’d be asking him. He could always say no.”

  “Now, I know how Lexie got to be so smart.”

  Grace laughed, but it was true. She was pretty and intelligent. I used to feel threatened by women like that, but now, I was proud she was my sister-in-law.

  I bit my lip. “I don’t know.” My next signing was right here in the Cities. It would be perfect because he wouldn’t have to travel. “It’s a good idea, but …”

  “But what?” Grace asked.

  “Sydney’s got a crush,” Lexie singsonged.

  “Shut up, brat. I’m too old to have a crush. I have a healthy interest in him,” I said and stuck my nose in the air, pretending to be snooty.

  She laughed.

  Grace smiled at her daughter. “Does he know you have a crush on him?”

  I grimaced. “God, I hope not.”

  Grace pointed to my phone. “Then, ask him.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  After dinner, I remembered to send my new book cover to Harper while my family went to hang out in the living room.

  Harper: OMG. That’s hot. I want him to kiss me all over like that.

  Me: LOL. Me, too. But I don’t want him to stop at kissing me.

  Me: Grace says that I should ask him to come to my next book signing, but I feel weird about it. She says it’ll help promote the book.

  Harper: You totally should. Look how many readers were at Angela’s table.

  Me: I know. I thought about that. But what if he doesn’t remember me? What if he’s like, “Who the hell is this woman, and why is she contacting me?”