He slid down into the covers so they were face to face. “And if you move to L.A., then I’ll…” His lips grazed her eyelids. “Be close…” They traveled to her nose. “To you.” He pressed his mouth to hers, and for a minute there she lost her focus on the conversation. She pushed away from him.
“Not fair. That’s total coercion.”
A sexy smile played across his lips as he reached to pull her back. “I know.”
She giggled as he ducked his head under the sheet, then gasped as his lips made a slow trail down her stomach. She relaxed against him, her thoughts muddled again. Too soon, he pulled away, emerging from the covers to look her in the eye.
“I’m not above playing dirty if I have to.”
“No kidding.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, willing him to stop talking. She’d already heard his arguments—he’d made them clear at dinner. The most obvious one was that it was frustrating as hell trying to mesh their schedules, and seeing each other once every couple of months wasn’t cutting it for either of them. If they lived under the same roof, they’d be together a lot more often, maybe even more than they were apart.
Right now together didn’t sound so bad.
He didn’t make another move toward her though, and when she opened her eyes she found him watching her. He wasn’t going to let her out of this. She sighed and propped herself up on one elbow.
“What about Reese? My friends?”
“You can fly back any time you want. I’ll buy a plane.”
Her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would.”
She gaped at him. Good Lord, he isn’t kidding. She shook her head, unwilling to process that information.
“What about the firm? Katie’s expecting me to come back, you know. She still hasn’t promoted Carrie beyond interim. And we’ve been talking about a partnership—”
Colin rolled his eyes. “You can start your own firm here. There’s a ton of business for PR people in L.A., with all these celebrity reputations to manage—way more opportunity than there is in Memphis. Honestly, what’s it matter if your name’s on the door here or there?”
Her jaw stiffened, but she didn’t say anything as she mulled over his words.
“Or, you know, you could start a West Coast branch.” His voice grew a pitch higher, excited. “Hire a whole team out here. I bet Katie would be into the idea of an L.A. office. Why wouldn’t she? Way more prestige. And with your name behind it—”
He finally noticed her glaring at him.
“What?” he asked, nonplussed. “I’m just trying to help. Besides, why would you even want to go back to PR? You’re a writer, Mel. You can do that anywhere.”
“I…well, yeah, I’m a writer. But Katie’s counting on me. I guess I just never thought…You know how you always hear, ‘Don’t quit your day job?’“ She floundered around in her head, trying to find an argument that didn’t sound as ridiculous as this one felt. “I guess I just never intended to be gone this long. I’ve got to get back to real life sometime.”
Something flashed in his eyes, but it was gone so fast she couldn’t pinpoint it. “This is your life, Amelia,” he said. “Things change. I know a lot’s changed for you in a short time, and I know from experience that’s not always easy to deal with, but they’re all good changes.” He paused, gave her a searching look. “Aren’t they?”
Her mind reeled. Were they? She still wasn’t sure. But how can I tell him that? She stared at him like she didn’t understand the question.
“Some of them,” she finally whispered. She leaned forward to kiss him on the lips, and he kissed her back, but she could tell the conversation wasn’t over. What else could he want to know? Surely he didn’t expect her to make up her mind tonight?
A minute later, he pulled away as if in answer to her thoughts. “You sure you don’t just have commitment issues?”
He grinned, played it off as a joke, but the look that had flashed by earlier came into his eyes again, and this time she thought she understood it. Could it be…could he be jealous? Her stomach lurched with panic. Did he know about Noah? But there was no way he could—there was nothing to know. She hadn’t told him about Noah’s connection to the books, and Colin was an actor, not a mind-reader.
“Ha-ha,” she said dryly. “Nooo, I’m having cross-country move issues. Career issues. This isn’t a decision I can make in a day, Colin.” Her eyes were pleading. “Let’s just get through this week, okay? Then we’ll talk.”
He searched her eyes and then nodded. “Okay. I don’t want to pressure you. I was just hoping you’d be as excited about this as I am.” She felt a pang at the hurt look on his face and tightened her arms around him, her resolve starting to weaken.
Then he touched his lips to her forehead. “I love you, Lia.”
Her whole body stiffened.
“Don’t call me that,” she whispered, the automatic response sharper than she’d intended. His eyebrows rose, and she flushed with embarrassment. Neither of them spoke for several seconds.
Finally he chuckled. “Ah, there it is.”
“What?” Confusion mingled with her mortification.
“The real reason you won’t say yes.”
Her body froze again. She stared silently at him, expecting more jealousy, or even anger. But his expression was smooth.
“Everybody has a past,” he said. “I know you’ve been hurt before. I don’t blame you for wanting to think things through.” He moved his hand down her back and slowly up again. “I won’t keep pushing you. Take as much time as you need to answer.”
Feeling like a terrible person from head to toe, she said, “I love you.”
Wrapped in his arms under the soft luxury of mounds of hotel bedding, she listened as his breathing slowed, and then grew rhythmic. She listened for a long, long time before she finally fell asleep.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Looking Up
Noah, late April
Noah kicked his rolling suitcase into its upright position and dropped back onto his sofa with relief. He’d stopped on the way home to pick up Amos despite the late hour. An admin in his office, Sheila, had been dog-sitting Amos while Noah traveled—he’d been gone so much that he hated to leave his best friend in a kennel. Sheila had a beagle that got along well with Amos and a husband who worked from home, so her place was a much better alternative and made him feel a tiny bit less terrible about being gone all the time. He reached down and rumpled Amos’ glossy brown coat.
“Sorry I haven’t been around much lately, buddy.” Amos licked his hand and settled in contentedly at his feet.
Noah was so happy to be in his own house he could practically kiss the floors. He’d had enough of hotels lately—staying in them, designing them, watching their gleaming towers rise gloriously out of dirt-filled lots. It was exciting, sure, but he was beat. I need a vacation, he thought. But where would he go? The idea of traveling didn’t hold much charm for him right now. And besides, who would he go with? He had no one.
What a damn depressing thought.
He pressed back into the sofa cushions and let his eyelids droop. This had been one of the most stressful weeks of his life. The Miami Beach project he’d started last fall had finally come to fruition, and he’d spent the last week and weekend overseeing the design team and making sure a million little details came together in exactly the right way.
The grand opening had happened Saturday night. It was a massive blowout, the property’s nightclub poised to become the party spot in a town full of party spots. The event’s roster had teemed with A-list guests, and thanks to his high-profile role in the hotel’s development, he’d met almost all of them. He’d smiled more than he had in months, made more small talk than he had in years. He’d even danced.
On the outside he must have looked happy, he thought. But it had been a mask. Despite his career success—thanks to this one project, he knew he’d have his pick of projects for the foreseeable future—he was misera
ble.
I miss Erin.
Well, maybe not Erin so much as the idea of Erin, he amended himself, grimacing as he recalled how thoroughly he’d torched that bridge. But he missed being part of a couple, having someone to share his life with, tell his stories to, eat dinner with. He’d gone so long without it, but now that he’d tasted it with Erin, he wanted it again.
I might as well face who it is I miss.
He missed Amelia, missed her more than he’d ever missed her, missed her even more than he had in the two years after their breakup, though he hadn’t thought that was possible. He’d seen so much of her in the past few months online and in print that he felt like she was there, present, in his life again.
It was killing him.
But what could he do about it? Everything he read, every picture he saw, pointed to one glaring fact: Amelia was happy. If he was experiencing a career high, she was soaring above the stratosphere. Her books were a screaming success, her face was on the cover of practically every major magazine, and her love life, well, her love life was being discussed over dinner tables across the country.
Colinmel, Colinmel, Colinmel.
He was so sick of the word, he thought he might literally vomit the next time he heard it. He’d finally had it out with his sisters over the news they’d kept from him last summer. He’d brought it up at Christmas, the last time they’d all been back home at the same time. He could tell Nicki and Sam still weren’t going to talk about it, so he did it for them.
He put on a good show of nonchalance, he thought. Good enough that Nicki even teased him about it in the end. He laid into Sam, though, for not being straight with him when he’d asked.
“I honestly thought you had to know,” she said, defensive. “How did you not know? I thought you were—not kidding, exactly—but just…bluffing.” She paused. “Did you really not know?”
Noah smirked at her. Turned out, both his sisters—and his mom even, the traitor—had read Amelia’s books. He had to work carefully to avoid giving away the fact that he’d read them, too. He just couldn’t take them knowing how much it bothered him. He was pathetic enough already, still reeling from his breakup with Erin. He could feel his mom’s eyes following him everywhere he moved. Worrying about him. And Nicki was nicer than usual, which irked him more than it should have.
Worse, though, was the fact that without Erin there, he once again saw Amelia’s face everywhere he looked in his hometown. He couldn’t get out of Girard fast enough.
Noah shook off his memories, pausing as he moved off the sofa to give Amos a long scratch behind his ears. Then he grabbed his suitcase handle and headed to his room to settle in for a few long-awaited weeks at home in Dallas.
* * *
That Friday, he flipped off the light switch in his office a couple hours earlier than usual. He was meeting Adam and some other guys for happy hour at a bar not far from work.
He reveled in the feeling of being deadline-free for a few days. Now that Dallas and Miami had opened, he was between projects. Things in L.A. were running smoothly, and the next round of development—Chicago, Atlanta—wouldn’t kick off for another couple of months.
It had actually been a good week.
Feedback on the Miami project had been pouring in. The firm was getting slammed with inquiries from prospective clients who’d heard about the hotels, a coup that had bumped Noah to super-star status in his office. Personally he’d been fielding calls from reporters across the country who wanted to interview him about the Miami property. That week, he’d talked to two major trade magazines about the green design measures he’d implemented to reach platinum LEED status. He’d gotten mentions in The New York Times and the Miami Herald, and a feature on the hotels had led the business section of The Dallas Morning News.
Soon, a profile on him was appearing in The Wall Street Journal, something he was still in shock over. He was ready to kick back and celebrate a little, the dark cloud that had been hovering over him these past few months lifted, at least for the moment.
He swung his SUV into a parking space. His feet felt light as he sauntered toward the wood front doors of the bar, the same bar he’d taken Erin to on their second date. Once inside, he scanned the crowd and spotted Adam holding down a table in the center of the room. He made his way to it and slid onto a stool across the table from him.
“Hey, man.”
Adam came around the table and slapped him on the back. “Dude. You’re like, the man now.” He signaled to the waitress, who hurried over as Cameron and two guys from Noah’s firm walked up. “Two pitchers of Blue Moon, five shots of tequila.”
Noah shrugged off the compliment, but inside he rode the high. He hadn’t felt this good about himself in ages. He managed to completely relax as he entered the guys’ debate over who was the best Cowboys quarterback of all time. He and Adam said Staubach. Everybody else argued Aikman. Noah tipped back one glass and then reached for the pitcher to pour another. And that’s when he saw her.
Erin.
You’ve got to be kidding me. Of all the bars in Dallas. Of all the nights.
While his eyes were still on her, Erin looked up and glanced straight over at him. She caught him staring, his mouth hanging slightly open. She winked.
He nodded his head in her direction and managed a smile through his shock. She smiled back and then turned her attention to the guy sitting across from her.
She was on a date.
Noah gulped and forced his eyes away from her. He tried to get himself back into the place he’d been, but he couldn’t keep his eyes from straying in her direction every few minutes. Finally, she and her date pushed their red leather chairs back from their table and moved toward the door. On the way, she passed right by his chair and paused.
“It’s great to see you here. How are you?”
He started at the sound of her voice and looked up at her. “I’m good, Erin. How are you?” Her smile was slight, but genuine.
“I’m doing fine,” she said, studying him for a prolonged moment. “Well, it’s nice to see you,” she repeated. She turned to eye her date, who was hanging back, waiting for her to catch up.
“Yeah,” Noah said. “Nice to see you, too.”
She smiled at him once more, and then she was gone.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Unthinkable
Back at his place later that night, Noah couldn’t get the encounter with Erin off his mind. She looked…good. Recovered. Happy.
And here I am, as single and pathetic as ever. The cup-half-full feeling he’d had earlier in the night dripped into a puddle of false hope at his feet.
He deserved happiness, too, he thought. Didn’t he?
He stared at his bedroom wall from his seat on the edge of his bed. He’d been grasping at happiness all these years through his work. And now here he was, his career taking off in ways he’d only dreamed about, and he just felt…alone. No matter how many accolades he gathered, how many profiles ran, how many big commissions he received, he’d still be alone. That fact perched heavily on his shoulders, pinned him where he sat.
There was a part of him that was still empty, a part he was desperately trying to fill. But he’d been trying to fill it with the wrong things.
Nothing’s going to fix me.
Nothing. Only one thing could ever make his life feel like his again, and it was the one thing he couldn’t have. His shoulders slumped even lower under the weight he’d carried way too long.
I’ve hit rock bottom. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so low. But I can’t stay depressed over her forever, can I?
He rubbed his temples and scooted back on his bed, lying back to stare up at the ceiling. He guessed maybe he could. He had this long. And if it was going to, wouldn’t time have healed his wounds by now?
It had been ages—years—since he’d prayed. Even longer since her name had entered his prayers. He’d long ago stopped believing, hoping, her life was meant to be intertwined with his.
&n
bsp; He’d stopped believing in anything.
Still, he prayed now, more fervently than he’d ever prayed in his life. He knew he had to get past this, and obviously he wasn’t doing such a great job on his own.
* * *
Two hours later Noah woke with a start. He glanced around, disoriented, and realized he’d fallen asleep where he’d landed, his clothes and light still on. He scooted to the edge of the bed and slowly stood, shedding his wrinkled shirt before wandering out of his room and through the quiet condo. In the living room, the heavy, dark brown panels that hung on either side of the sliding glass doors were wide open, giving him a view out over his small patio. The only sounds he could hear were crickets chirping on the other side of the doors and the even rise and fall of Amos’ breath.
He slunk down onto the sofa, his head filled with a buzzing mix of images—the Miami party, the principals in his office popping a bottle of champagne, Adam slapping him on the back, Erin on her date. Amelia. Always Amelia. He reached up to rub his bleary eyes as the haze of sleep slowly lifted. What was he going to do about this constant, hopeless fixation on Amelia? How was he ever going to quit her?
He had to get his life back, but how? How could he ever again find the peace that had eluded him since the day he’d lost her?
Maybe I’m just not meant to. The idea caused a shudder of pain to ripple through his body. He didn’t see how he could go on feeling this way for the rest of his life, but he didn’t see how he’d get past it, either. He imagined himself old, gray, sitting bitter and alone on the front porch of a home he shared with no one, wondering where life had taken Amelia and wishing she was in the empty chair beside him.
No! His head snapped up in a moment of sudden, violent clarity. What the fuck am I doing? Why am I just sitting here, letting this happen?
All at once, he knew what he had to do. It was crazy, reckless, unthinkable.
Now a Major Motion Picture Page 29