What a Wallflower Wants

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by Maya Rodale


  He tended to be really, really devoted to his business. It could be hard to tear him away from work, but once I did, that same intense focus was aimed at me. My toes curled in my black patent wedge heels just thinking about it.

  “And he’s not whisking you away with him?” Roxanna asked.

  “No, you don’t get the apartment to yourself,” I answered with a laugh. “He’s just going for a day or two, and I have to work.”

  Roxanna’s iPhone buzzed with an incoming text. Like me, she snatched it up right away.

  “Is that from your mysterious millionaire lover?”

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly. I tried to raise one eyebrow in an “I’m intrigued” sort of way, but I think I only managed a weird face. Either way, Roxanna was too busy smiling as she texted him back.

  “Do tell,” I said, sipping my drink.

  “Oh, no. I won’t have my romantic entanglements serve as fodder for your next book.”

  “Please?” I gave her my most sorrowful expression. “I have no idea what to write, and I have a deadline looming.”

  My first two historical romance novels had been easy to write, since my real life provided all the inspiration I needed. The heroines of those two novels—loosely based upon myself—had a friend, Prudence, who needed a story, too. Also in my inbox: emails from readers asking when Prue’s story would be available. I didn’t have an answer for them. What I had was a bad case of writer’s block and no cure.

  “Your own romance isn’t inspiring you?”

  “Nope. My love life is wonderful, which doesn’t exactly make for a very exciting romance novel. There’s no conflamma,” I said, using our made-up word for the awful mixture of conflict and drama. It was essential to any great story—the happy ending wouldn’t be as sweet without it.

  “Don’t get all sappy romantic on me.” Roxanna punctuated that with a big sip of her whiskey. “You have to promise not to turn into one of those awful, smug couples.”

  I laughed. “Well—I suppose there is some conflict. The dueling parties where he has to decide what matters more—his big night or mine.”

  “Or YOU have to decide what matters more,” Roxanna pointed out. “Or which party is simply more fun.”

  My phone buzzed with another text. I hoped this one was from Duke. We’d planned to meet up this evening but hadn’t confirmed when or where. I picked up my phone and frowned.

  “Another text from Sam?” Roxanna asked after seeing my frown.

  “Yeah.” This one was weird and I didn’t want to think about it, so I put my phone in my bag.

  “Still haven’t found your ring?” Roxanna asked, gesturing to my hands, where I was absentmindedly trying to twist my cubic zirconia “engagement” ring around my finger. Except it wasn’t there.

  “No,” I sighed. “I could have sworn I left it in my jewelry box. You know me—I always put things away. But it wasn’t there, and I can’t imagine where I might have lost it.”

  “Good thing it wasn’t real,” Roxanna remarked with a grimace.

  “Yeah. It still had sentimental value, though.”

  Roxanna’s mystery love texted again. She smiled as she tapped a response with her red manicured fingernails.

  “I have to go. It’s for work,” she said. But neither of us could keep a straight face, because it might have been her boss texting her, but it was definitely not about work. We both burst out laughing.

  Roxanna and I parted ways outside the bar. She went off to meet her mystery lover and Duke texted, inviting me to join him and some of his team for drinks at a bar on the Lower East Side.

  Since it was a gorgeous end-of-summer evening, I decided to walk.

  I slipped on my headphones, played “Empire State of Mind,” and started heading over to the bar where we’d agreed to meet. There was nothing like walking through New York City—letting your route be determined by red and green lights, dodging pedestrians on the sidewalk, flowing around cars stopped in the streets, moving in time to the city’s unique rhythm—all while listening to a great song and getting lost in your thoughts. Tonight, I was thinking just how far I had come.

  I arrived here a few months ago, a total mess. My boyfriend of twelve years, Sam, had dumped me, when I’d been expecting him to propose. Oh, and I had gotten fired that day, too. I’d had to move out of the house we’d shared. Rather than stay at home with my folks, and tired of too many awkward conversations with meddling neighbors at the grocery store, I’d declared I was moving to New York to write a novel.

  Madness, that. I just wanted everyone—especially myself—to think I was running to something instead of just fleeing the wreckage of my life.

  Then I met Roxanna, whose practical joke on Facebook got me involved with Duke. My relationship with him provided the inspiration I needed to write not one but two historical romance novels, which I published to great success.

  With Sam I had my life all planned out. And to think . . . I would have missed living and loving in New York City if everything had gone according to plan.

  I pulled open the door to the bar on Elizabeth Street and spotted Duke right away. There was just something about him—confidence, determination, drive—that declared him Someone Important even though he tended to wear free T-shirts from other start-ups, with perfectly broken in Levi’s and sneakers.

  He glanced up and caught my eye. God, that smile. So roguish. So mischievous. It was a smile that made a girl believe in once upon a time and heroes who swept a girl off her feet. It did things to me every time. He stood and strolled through the bar toward me. The crowds just melted out of his way.

  If I had gotten the life I had always planned of, I would have missed this. Duke pulling me into an embrace. His mouth crashing down on mine for the kind of deep, passionate kiss that left no doubt as to how he felt about me or what we would be doing tonight.

  Later I would think about this kiss and remember it as the one sparkling moment when everything was just right and my biggest problem was which party to attend. It was the moment before my past reared its ugly head, making happily ever after seem unlikely. It was the moment before the storm hit, leaving unfathomable destruction in its wake. It was the moment before I got an idea for a new story—but at a price I didn’t want to pay.

  About the Author

  MAYA RODALE began reading romance novels in college at her mother’s insistence. She is now the author of numerous “dazzlingly sexy and witty” romantic novels. She lives in New York City with her darling dog and a rogue of her own.

  For more information bout Maya's books, visit her at www.mayarodale.com.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.

  Romances by Maya Rodale

  WHAT A WALLFLOWER WANTS

  WALLFLOWER GONE WILD

  THE WICKED WALLFLOWER

  SEDUCING MR. KNIGHTLY

  THE TATTOOED DUKE

  A TALE OF TWO LOVERS

  A GROOM OF ONE’S OWN

  Novellas from Avon Impulse

  THE BAD BOY BILLIONAIRE: WHAT A GIRL WANTS

  THE BAD BOY BILLIONAIRE’S GIRL GONE WILD

  THE BAD BOY BILLIONAIRE’S WICKED ARRANGEMENT

  THREE SCHEMES AND A SCANDAL

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Excerpt from The Bad Boy Billionaire: What a Girl Wants copyright © 2014 by Maya Rodale

  WHAT A WALLFLOWER WANTS. Copyright © 2014 by Maya Rodale. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-enginee
red, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  EPub Edition OCTOBER 2014 ISBN: 9780062231246

  Print Edition ISBN: 9780062231284

  FIRST EDITION

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

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