Charlie nodded. “Yeah, it’s in town. The food’s pretty basic, just good old Southern downhome cooking. But it’s delicious.”
“Mmmmm, I love Southern food. Fried chicken, greens, hush puppies . . .”
“Exactly.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, tucking me against him as we walked. “And they have a bread pudding with whiskey sauce that Grampy loves. But I don’t think I need any dessert tonight.” He brushed the back of his fingers down my cheek, making me shiver, and then kissed my cheek with so much tenderness that a lump rose in my throat. “I already had the sweetest thing in the world, and I think it might have ruined me for anything—or anyone else.”
I knew what he meant. In a world full of frogs, I was fairly certain I’d finally kissed my prince.
“VIVIAN. HEY, DON’T YOU LOOK great?” Karl stood up from the small table in the corner of the coffee shop as I entered. He held out a hand, and out of politeness, I shook it, even though I had zero desire to touch this guy.
“Hi, Karl.” Hooking my handbag over the back of the empty chair, I sat down. “So, what’s up? I was really surprised when I got your call this morning.” Surprised and not just a little annoyed, I might have added. I’d opened my eyes today, still floating on a cloud of euphoria after another amazing date with Charlie. These last weeks with him had been perfect, not because of anything we’d done or any place we’d gone, but because we’d been together. We’d laughed, told stories and talked about what we both hoped the future held for us. This had been the best time I’d had in . . . well, probably in my entire life.
And each time he kissed me and held me close, the tingle became a little more pronounced. Thanks to the despicable lack of privacy we both suffered by living with someone else, we hadn’t gone any further than burning hot kisses and lots of groping in his car or sitting on a blanket out by the lake, but both of us knew what we wanted. It was only a matter of time and opportunity . . . and if too much more time went by, I was going to combust.
But while I was still reveling in the memory, my phone had rung, and I’d stupidly answered it, even though the number was unfamiliar. When Karl had requested that I meet him here, I’d been too surprised—not to mention curious—to say no.
“Well, yes . . . I’m sure you were. It’s been a little while, hasn’t it?” He chuckled and held up his paper cup of coffee. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, thanks.” I folded my arms on the table. “I can’t be here too long. I need to get to work.”
Karl’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh? You’re working somewhere? I thought you were freelancing. What about the piece you proposed to me when you first got back to town?”
I shrugged. “I’m working at a dog groomer just to get by until I can sell some articles. As far as the frog idea . . .” I hesitated. “I’m not sure. I’ve done a lot of the legwork, so to speak, and I have ideas and direction, but I’m wondering if it’s really the right time for me to do this.”
“Vivian, I’m here to tell you that it’s exactly the right time for you to write this article—for the Sunbeam. I have a hunch that it’s going to be huge. It could bring you national exposure.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Cut the shit, Karl. What’s all this about? Why did you need to see me? If this is just a friendly check-in, you could’ve done it via text or email.”
He forced another laugh. “All right, Vivian, you’re right. I forget sometimes how sharp you are.” After taking another drink of his coffee, he heaved a long breath. “Okay. Here’s the truth. NPI—that’s National Press Incorporated, who bought out the paper from Mr. Clanton–they’re concerned about the content of our new digital platform. We’ve been running what I think are relevant pieces, what’s important to the millennials and what they want to read. But our numbers are tanking. The brass are talking about pulling the plug if we don’t produce something hot—and soon.”
“Hmmm. I’m sorry to hear that, Karl.” I hoped he understood from my tone that I was so not sorry, the traitorous rat.
“When I was meeting with them yesterday, they asked if I had anything on the line that might make a difference. Something that they could promote, something that would be worthy of running on a national level, in all of their markets, which would give us here in Florida a big boost. And right away, I thought of you. Of your idea. I pitched it to them, and they loved it. They want us to pull out all the stops to build up your story, Vivian. This is your break. This is going to be a career-changer.”
I stared at Karl. “Are you serious? You pitched them my story? My idea?”
He shrugged. “It’s totally legit, Vivian. You pitched the concept to me, I greenlighted it and requested first look. There wasn’t a damn thing wrong with me telling NPI about it.” He was so defensive that I figured he already knew he was skirting a fine line. Yes, I’d pitched it to him, but I hadn’t signed anything, and neither had he. If I’d decided to take my frogs piece to another outlet, he wouldn’t have had a legal leg to stand on. That was why he was kissing my ass right now. This article was crucial for his continued editorship at the Sunbeam, and whether or not they got it—whether or not I wrote it—was all up to me. I held his career in the palm of my hands.
I leaned back a little and crossed my legs. “Well, that may be right, Karl. You may have been entitled to tell NPI about my story. But you actually can’t force me to write it, and even if I write it, you can’t force me to sell it to you. I don’t work for you anymore, remember? You made that abundantly clear when I got home from my residency.”
“Now, Vivian—” Karl began, but I cut him off.
“That’s the truth, Karl. You know it is.”
“But I told you I loved the idea. I said I wanted the first look at it.”
“You did.” I nodded. “But that was all verbal. Nothing was in writing. If the shoe was on the other foot, and I was the one trying to convince you to consider this piece when you didn’t want it, you’d tell me the same thing. You know that’s true.”
“All right.” He spread his hands. “You’ve got me over a barrel here. I need something that you can provide. Tell me what you want. Do you want an advance? Do you want me to hire you again? Do you want a contract, stating what we’ll pay for this article? Name it. I’ll make it happen.”
Desperation didn’t look good on Karl, I thought. He was absolutely on target. I was holding all the power here. And yet . . . at the same time, I wasn’t stupid. I could see the potential this story had to catapult my career into the stratosphere. With the backing of NPI and its army of publicists, my fifty frogs could give me the ability to write my own ticket going forward. I could work wherever I wanted.
“I don’t want to work for you, Karl.” That had to be said upfront. “No matter what, I have no desire to be on the Sunbeam staff again. What we had before, when Mr. Clanton was editor, was good and sweet and probably something that had outlived its era. I don’t want any place in the bastardized version of that.”
When he opened his mouth to protest, I raised my hand, stopping him. “But you are correct that I gave you first look at the frogs piece, and I intend to honor my word.” I thought for a moment. “I need a month to finish it, and then you and the dudes at NPI can look it over and see if you like it. If you don’t, no hard feelings. I’ll find another place to publish it. But if you do . . .” I leaned forward and lowered my voice. “If you do, Karl, and if you want it, you and National Press Incorporated are going to pay for it, and you’re going to pay big.”
I was preoccupied all day at work. I’d invested a fairly substantial amount of time and effort in the research for my fifty frogs article. I loved the idea, I loved the concept of exploring what was happening in the dating world today, but Charlie had changed everything for me. From our first date, I’d been second-guessing my goals in writing the piece.
“Hey, Vivian, you okay?” Lauren patted my shoulder as she cut through behind my desk. “You’ve been really quiet today.”
“Yeah, I
’m good.” I rolled the pen I was holding through my fingers. “I’m just trying to figure out something. I have a decision to make, and I’m not sure that there’s a right answer.”
She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. “Well, spill it, sister. Maybe I can help.”
“Ooooh, what’re we talking about?” Holly poked her head into the room. “Something juicy, I hope?”
“Vivian’s got a dilemma, and we’re going to listen and help her solve it.” Lauren nodded at me. “Go on. Lay it on us.”
Slowly, with a lot of halting, I told the girls about the fifty frogs notion, how I’d come up with the concept and the guys I’d dated in the name of journalistic curiosity.
“Oh, my God. So the guy with the threesome—and the horrible grandson—you’re using them to write a story in the newspaper? Honey, that’s classic. You’ve got to do it.”
I sighed. “But then I met a really amazing guy. I actually met him before this started, but we’ve been dating for a few weeks now, and . . . it’s been amazing. We had the best first date in the history of first dates, bar none, and each time we’ve been together since has been even better. I don’t want to keep kissing frogs. I only want to kiss Charlie.”
Holly lay a hand across her chest. “That is so romantic, Vivian. Really. I’m happy for you. I bet Lauren here is happy for you, too. We’re glad you found your prince. But what about the rest of us? The ones who’re still out here kissing frogs and looking for true love? Maybe you need to write this article for us.”
“Yeah.” Lauren nodded. “You know what a jungle it is in the dating world these days. Write it so everyone gets the true picture. Write it so that women don’t feel like they’re alone, like they’re the only ones struggling with this. We need it.”
“And if you need more fodder for it, you can always count on us.” Holly pointed at herself. “We’ve got stories that you wouldn’t believe.”
“She’s not wrong. And all you have to do is buy me a glass of wine. I’ll be happy to talk.”
I looked from Lauren to Holly, and I thought of all the other women I’d encountered along this journey, all of the women who’d been part of my support system my entire life. I thought about the struggles and heartache and anger every one of us experienced as we kissed all the frogs.
“Okay.” I fell back against my chair, letting it roll a little as I spread my arms. “Fine. You guilted me with the unity of womanhood card. But you two better have some incredible details for me, because I’m going to need them.”
Lauren rubbed her hands together. “Did I ever tell you about the guy who thought he was a vampire?”
My eyes widened. “Um, no. Pretty sure I’d remember that one. How did you meet him?”
She winked at me. “Well, it was a dark and stormy night . . .”
My phone trilled as I locked up Mr. Edguardo’s that evening. I saw Aunt Gail’s name on the screen and answered it.
“Hey, Viv, are you on your way home yet? I wanted to see if you’d stop at the grocery store for me. I need limes and some coconut milk.”
“Ooooooh, are we getting fancy drinks tonight?” I dropped my keys into my purse and headed for my car.
“No, we’re getting fancy chicken tonight. I want to try this new recipe on you before I make it for—someone else.” She cleared her throat. “Don’t ask any questions. Just get me my ingredients, please.”
“Sure.” I got into the car and locked the doors. “Anything else?”
“I wouldn’t say no to a bottle of rum if you had time to stop at the liquor store, too.”
“You got it. See you in a bit.”
I hustled in and out of the grocery store, put the bag in the trunk, and then bopped over to the liquor shop next door. I’d just picked up a bottle of Captain Jack when someone spoke behind me.
“You’ve got good taste.” The man gesturing to the bottle in my hand was definitely older than me. I would’ve guessed that he was in his early thirties. He wore gym shorts and a tight T-shirt, and the admiration in his eyes made it clear that he liked more than the rum I was holding.
“Oh—thanks.” I patted the bottle as though it was a small baby. “Nothing but the best for my frou-frou drinks.”
“Are you a mojito girl?” He grinned down at me.
“Not really.” I smiled but took a step back, trying to make it plain that I wasn’t interested. “I like dirty coke floats, actually.”
“Oh.” He quirked an eyebrow. “You’re a dirty girl, are you?”
Annnnnd this conversation was over. “Not really. If you’ll excuse me . . .” I made as if to go around him, but he shot out an arm to block me.
“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“And yet you are.” I stared at his hand on my shoulder. “Please get your hand off me. I’m not interested.”
“But you don’t even know me.” He tried the smolder, but sadly for him, he only seemed to be squinting at me. “I saw your shirt—you work with dogs? We have a lot in common.” He hooked a thumb toward his chest. “I’m a furry.”
I blinked. “You’re a what, now?”
He bent his head closer to me. “A furry. You know, we dress up like animals and ah . . . well, it’s a sexual thing. It’s how we get off. Furries . . . you’ve heard of us.”
Slowly I shook my head. “I really haven’t, and now that I’ve met you, I’m going home to take about five showers.”
“But if you like dogs, you might enjoy the lifestyle. If you don’t try it, how will you know?” He wasn’t giving up easily.
“I just have a hunch, the same way I know I hate liver. Now usually I hate to be rude, but in this case, I’ll make an exception. Step aside.”
“I really think—”
“I’m pretty sure the lady said to move out of her way.” The voice was familiar, and when I turned to look, Jeremy was at the end of the aisle, glaring at Mr. Furry.
I hadn’t seen my ex since the day at his townhouse with Tess. He was in a suit now, probably on his way home from work. He had a bottle of vodka in one hand.
“Fine.” The man near me slid his hand into the pocket of his shorts and produced a business card. “But listen. Here’s our website, in case later on you decide you’re . . . curious.” He pivoted on one foot and pushed past Jeremy. My mouth dropped open when I spied the small fluffy white cotton tail sitting high on his ass.
“Well, that’s it. Now I’ve seen everything.” I smiled at Jeremy as he approached me. “Thanks for stepping in.”
“Eh, you seemed like you had it under control. I was just tired of listening to the guy mouth off. I heard you talking from the other side of the aisle, and I was waiting for him to move on so I could say hello.” He inclined his head. “So—hello.”
“Hello.” We stood undecided for a moment before we both went in for the awkward ex hug. Jeremy patted my back, and then we pulled away.
“How’ve you been, Vivian?” He actually said it as though he cared. “I can’t tell you how much I regret what happened the last time we saw each other. It really wasn’t my intent to hurt you, but I have a feeling I did.”
I sighed, shrugging. “You know, Jeremy, at the time, I might have said yes, you did. But in retrospect, I think I was more surprised than anything. And maybe a little shocked about how much you’d changed.”
He nodded. “I can understand that. It was cowardly of me not to have called you and told you about Tess and me sooner. I convinced myself that doing it over the phone would be wrong, but I think I was probably avoiding the situation.” He paused. “I really am sorry. Not so much for breaking up with you as for asking you to move in with me in the first place. I led you to believe things about my feelings that weren’t accurate.”
I touched his arm. “Jeremy, don’t worry about it. I think you did what you thought was right, based on your knowledge at the time. You did the best you could, just like all of us do.” It was true, I realized. I didn’t have any more hard feelings t
oward Jeremy. “So, how’s everything with Tess?”
His entire countenance transformed when I said her name. “It’s wonderful. She’s making penne a la vodka for us tonight, and she forgot that we were out of vodka. You know, with anyone else, that would’ve annoyed the hell out of me. I would’ve found it irresponsible and flakey. But when Tess does it, I just laugh. It’s part of her. And I love her.”
“I’m so glad for you. Really, I am.” And I was.
“How about you? Since it seems you’re not interested in the, ah, furry lifestyle, I assume you’re not on the verge of a breakdown?” His lips twitched.
“No. Everything’s good.” I realized it was true as I said it. “I’m living with Aunt Gail, doing freelance work, and I . . .I think I met someone. He’s really amazing, and wonderful, and I’m pretty sure when he sees me, his face lights up the way yours just did when I mentioned Tess.”
“That’s great, Vivian. You deserve someone who appreciates you more than I ever did.”
I laughed. “We both deserve that, I think. God, can you imagine if you hadn’t met Tess and I’d actually moved in with you? We might have ended up married.”
“I’ve thought of that. Thank God for small favors, huh?”
“You’re not wrong.” For a few minutes, we were both lost in thought of what might have been. “I should probably go. Aunt Gail’s going to wonder what’s become of me. Thanks again for stepping in with the furry.” I stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Tell Tess I said hello.”
“I will.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Be well, Vivian.”
He carried his vodka to the register, paid and left without a backward look. I waited until he was out the door before I followed with my bottle of rum.
Aunt Gail was in the kitchen at the stove when I got home. She glanced at me over her shoulder.
“Did you actually go to Tahiti for the coconut and lime? I was about ready to call out the cops and report you missing.”
I set down the bag of groceries on the counter. “Oh, you won’t believe the story I have to tell you. Have you ever heard of furries?”
Fifty Frogs (The Anti-Cinderella Chronicles Book 4) Page 17