One More Kiss (A Too Many Men Romantic Comedy / Chick Lit Novel)

by Stephanie Rowe

  I couldn't help it. I laughed. "You're such a guy."

  "Guilty as charged." He sat back as our assortment of desserts arrived. All of them chocolate, all of them horribly decadent. For a moment I felt guilty, then I watched Van take a bite and changed my mind. They looked way too good to resist.

  Besides, I'd been dumped. That was totally worthy of a chocolate overdose.

  "How's the job going?" he asked. "I haven't heard much about that lately."

  I rolled my eyes. "I'm on probation."

  Surprise flashed across his face. "Why?"

  Fortified by the most amazing chocolate I'd ever eaten, I filled him in on my miserable week, even adding the entire discussion with Hildy. "Moral of the story? Stay far, far away from lawyers of any kind. Noah is also a lawyer. Did I tell you that?"

  He looked skeptical. "You think it's a lawyer thing? All lawyers are miserable SOB's who will heartlessly destroy everything in their path?"

  "Yep." I pointed a spoonful of chocolate mousse at him. "That's why there's hope for you. You're not a lawyer."

  He studied me. "So, if I were, you wouldn't be here eating chocolate with me?"

  "No way." At the flicker on his face, I tried to explain. "See, the thing is, you're normal. You have a normal job. You make a normal income. You don't live in a world where appearances, money, and all that sort of stuff matter. I was raised in this elitist world where everyone judges me—and finds me lacking, I might add—and I'm sick of it. But with you, well, none of that exists." I struggled to find my words. "You're like me. One of the regular people, yet we both have to serve the upper classes who look down on us."

  He took his time chewing his piece of four-layer chocolate cake. When he finally swallowed, he said, "I think I'm honored."

  I nodded. "Damn right." In that moment, I imagined what it would be like if I took Van to my sister's wedding. Introduced him as the security guard from my building. Can you imagine? My parents would freak.

  Not that I'd ever use him. But dating all these guys that my parents approved of wasn't exactly finding me true happiness, was it?

  Van slipped our waitress his credit card before I could stop him, and he shook off my cash. "My treat. When I get dumped next time, you can take me out." He grinned. "Feeling better?"

  I thought about it. "Actually, I am." And he hadn't given me all sorts of TLC, or gone off on all the reasons why I didn't need men, or tell me to find someone new. He'd just been there as a friend, listened, bought me food. "Thanks."

  He looked pleased. "My pleasure."

  Van spent the rest of the evening trying to get the details out of me about what made sex with Noah so good. I was embarrassed and laughing all the way home.

  When he'd dropped me off, he'd hugged me. It was the first time he'd ever hugged me, and it had been amazing. His body was warm, solid, and steady. Being in his arms had made me feel safe and loved, more than I'd ever felt in my life.

  I held onto him for a long time before I'd finally allowed him to let me go.

  And then I spent the night awake in bed thinking.

  I'd been such a wreck after Noah. I would have thought I'd be devastated for weeks. But one evening with Van had changed my mood completely.

  Why exactly was that? Had I not liked Noah as much as I'd thought?

  I thought of my evening with Van. I'd spilled all my innermost secrets to him, which, although had felt liberating at the time, now seemed like an embarrassing overshare. I thought back to the night, replaying our conversations as growing horror dawned on me.

  He'd fixed my mood because I liked him.

  Oh, God. He'd taken me out as a friend, and I'd fallen for him.

  What if he knew? I had made that hug go on for a long time.

  Fear rippled down my spine, real fear. Van already knew I was a wreck when it came to dating. If he figured out how I was feeling about him, I'd drive him away.

  I couldn't do that. I couldn't lose him. I had to pull myself together.

  I was totally avoiding him for the next week. Like my list of people to avoid wasn't long enough already.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I woke up at five in the morning to get out of the house before Blaine and Emma got up. No way could I deal with that misery.

  I was in the middle of washing my hair when I heard the door to the bathroom click. I froze. "Who's there?"

  "Me. Just brushing my teeth."

  Emma. God, how I wanted to tell her about my miserable night with Noah. My second thoughts about Max. My conversation with Hildy. I missed her so much. "Em?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Do you want to go out to breakfast?"

  "Today?"

  "Yes." I just wanted to be back to where we were.

  "I'll check with Blaine. Give me a sec."

  "Wait!" I stuck my head out. Emma had her hand on the door, and she was wearing one of her little black nighties. "I don't want Blaine to come. Just us."

  Emma paused, then shook her head. "I can't do that to him. We're a couple now."

  I felt my jaw drop open. "But you've known him for a week."

  Her eyes lit up. "I know! Can you believe it? We totally click. Imagine, me with a lawyer. Who'd have thought? My parents are thrilled. They totally adore him. We're going away this weekend with them to their place in Maine. How about that, huh?"

  She looked so happy, I almost didn't want to shove her toothbrush up her nose and ruin the moment. "Great. Have fun."

  Emma frowned. "You aren't still mad about it, are you? I mean, you're with Noah, and all."

  "Yeah." Pride kept me from admitting anything else.

  "And to be honest, Blaine's not your type. He's too easygoing. You're too high maintenance. He'd never give you all the support you need."

  I blinked. "I'm high maintenance?"

  "Sure you are. You get all wigged about your family, work, lawyer stuff, etc. Max had to work overtime to keep you stable. Blaine's not into that. We have fun."

  Okay, so this was really doing loads to help my mood. "Forget breakfast."

  "You sure?"

  "Very."

  Her eyes narrowed. "Don't be a bitch, Shannon. I deserve to be happy."

  "You're always happy! You don't have a care in the world! You have no bills, no sense of responsibility when it comes to work ethics, you sleep with whoever, date whoever, and generally flit through life so you don't ever have to deal with anything."

  She walked over to me and glared. "Take that back."

  "Don't you even get it? We always swore that our friendship was more important than a man, and you've chosen Blaine over me because you have fun with him. Fun? You'll break up with him in two weeks, and I'll be stuck dealing with the repercussions because I work with him. He's already a jerk to me at work, and when you dump him, it's going to be even worse. And until you dump him, I have to trip over his underwear in the hall, which sucks."

  Her eyes glittered. "Maybe I won't dump him in two weeks. Maybe he's the one."

  My stomach thudded to my toes. I had no response to that, except that it hurt. It really hurt, deep in my core, the same place that Noah had bruised. Not because I wanted Blaine anymore, because I didn't. I never really had, actually. He'd been more of a prize that I could have claimed to help me with my family and my work situations.

  But Emma finding The One? That left me alone. Alone.

  I wanted to congratulate her and giggle with her over breakfast, hearing all the juicy details, but I couldn't. I simply didn't have the emotional capacity at the moment. Not to mention, she didn't have time for one-on-one Shannon/Emma time. "Have fun this weekend."

  She looked wary. "Thanks. You too. Hanging with Noah?"

  "Yeah, probably."

  "We should double date sometime. Once you get to know Blaine, you'll like him."

  Double date? "Sure. Sounds good."

  "How about tonight?"

  Thank heavens for my job. "Red Sox game."

  "Wednesday?"

  Guilt shot
through me as I thought of my dinner with Phoebe and Dave. "Busy."

  She lifted a brow. "Thursday?"

  No legit excuse came to mind right away. "I'll have to check with Noah."

  She nodded, but I could tell she didn't believe me for a sec. But she thought it was because I was being a bitch, not because Noah had dumped me. A delusion I wasn't in the mood to correct. A girl had to have some pride.

  I walked into work that morning, determined to forget about my personal life. I'd focus on my work, do a great job, get off probation, and I was most certainly not going to take up Hildy on her suggestion to go to lunch and talk about me becoming a lawyer.

  Yet, when I sat down at my desk and opened my calendar, there was a lunch with Hildy scheduled for a week from Wednesday, courtesy of Isabel. I debated canceling, but then decided not to hurt the one person at work who actually seemed to care about me. I'd give Hildy the courtesy of a face-to-face rejection of her idea.

  I emailed my agenda for tonight's Red Sox game to Otto, then I took a stroll past Missy's office, but it was still dark. I swallowed. My career wouldn't survive the loss of Missy.

  So I returned to my office and began a list of how I could take this intern experience to a new level, really blow the lid off the pot for these guys, which would hopefully make me an invaluable asset to the firm. After stalling for a while, I made up a questionnaire and sent it to my interns, asking them what they hoped to accomplish this summer.

  Then I walked by Missy's office again.

  Same result.

  So I returned to my desk and ordered flowers to be delivered to her apartment. How pathetic was I? Twenty-four years old, and groveling at the feet of some law school goddess to save my career. Tiptoeing by Otto's office, hoping for another chance to prove my competence. Hiding from the lawyer next door. No social life to speak of. The big two-five birthday coming up soon with nothing at all to celebrate.

  Something had to give. And soon.

  By the next Wednesday, I had settled into a mode of tense anticipation for the dam to break. Missy hadn't been sighted, but she hadn't officially quit. No crises with the interns. No call from Noah. A couple messages from Max that I hadn't returned. Hadn't seen Van. A couple dinners with Phoebe and Dave—my one oasis in a miserable life. Friends who were lonely with their significant others away, so we could all three share our loneliness.

  It was quite fun actually, having someone to bond with in loneliness. I hadn't realized how lonely both of them were, and I felt better. Except when I thought about how completely miserable I was since Noah had broken my heart. Which was only about five times an hour, so really, I was doing fine.

  Otto had cancelled our Monday meeting due to a schedule conflict and hadn't rescheduled, so hopefully I'd fallen off his radar again. I had no plans of getting back on.

  And now I was sitting across from Hildy at lunch, picking at my chicken Caesar salad. So far, she hadn't brought up the law school thing, and I decided to preempt her. "Hildy, I decided I'm not going to law school."

  "Why?" She didn't look surprised or particularly worried.

  Which worried me.

  "Because I don't want to be a lawyer."

  "Why?"

  "Because I don't."

  She shook her head. "Not enough. Why?"

  "Because I don't like them."

  "Any of them?"

  Oh, nice one, Shannon. "Except you. You're nice."

  Hildy took a bite of her baked chicken breast. "Shannon, if you can clearly articulate legitimate reasons why you don't want to do this, I'll leave you alone."

  "Fine. I don't like the whole law firm scenario. I don't want to have to worry about politics. I don't want to work those hours."

  "All of which you're currently enduring for a fraction of the salary."

  "Well, yeah." Good point. "And I don't want to give in."

  She lifted a perfectly shaped brow. "What does that mean?"

  I sighed. "My whole family has been pressuring me to go to law school forever. They're ashamed of my job. If I go to law school, then it's like they win."

  Hildy thought about that one for a minute, and I thought I had her. Then she said, "Then again, if you really would like to be a lawyer and you chose not to be merely because you don't want them to win, then you lose twice by disappointing both yourself and them. Don't be a lawyer because they want you to, but don't give up a career you want merely because they also want you to have that career. You're an adult, Shannon, make the choice for yourself." She tilted her head. "You could always not tell them you're going back to school. Then you'd know it was for yourself."

  "But I don't want to be a lawyer." I'd been fighting against it my whole life. But why? Just because I wanted to piss off my family? Surely I wasn't that shallow and immature?

  Hildy set a brochure on the table. "Here's a brochure for the law school. The website for the application is listed on the last page. Fill it out and submit it by Friday." When I protested, she held up her finger to silence me. "You can always change your mind and back out, but if you don't turn it in, you won't have a choice to make." She handed me a business card. "That's my husband's information. Put his name as a reference, and he'll follow up with you."

  I pursed my lips and stared at the glossy pages of happy people. For a moment, the image of me presenting my law degree to my family passed through my mind. Imagine if my parents were actually proud of me? I immediately scowled. Since when did I make choices to make my parents happy? I made choices to make them mad.

  I blinked. Is that what I did? No, I made choices to make me happy.

  Then why was I at a job that made me miserable?

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I wanted my parents to be proud of me for myself.

  That thought occurred to me while I was on the way to meet Phoebe and Dave for drinks after work on Thursday night.

  If I became a lawyer, then they'd be proud, but it wouldn't be of me. It would be pride for my career.

  But if I took them out of it entirely, what did I think about being a lawyer? Why had I chosen a career in a law firm?

  Dave and Phoebe had their strong opinions about my family and my relationship with them. Maybe I'd run it by them tonight.

  I found them in a booth near the dance floor. They were next to each other, buried in deep conversation. I smiled as I slid in. I'd succeeded in making Phoebe and Dave become friends. It was a good thing. "Hi guys."

  Dave smiled tensely, and Phoebe didn't smile at all.

  "What's wrong?"

  "We need to talk to you about something."

  This didn't sound good. "Go ahead."

  "Shannon?" I looked up to find Van standing at the table. I immediately became embarrassed, recalling how I'd spilled my whole miserable sex life to him, and then trapped him in a hug he hadn't been able to escape. "How are you?"

  I shrugged and felt my cheeks heat up. "Fine."

  "You haven't stopped by the booth since last week."

  "Yeah." I'd been sneaking out the back door actually.

  He touched my arm, and I looked at him. "Dance with me."

  I glanced at my friends. "Phoebe and Dave were just about to tell me something."

  Dave immediately stuck out his hand and introduced himself to Van, and Phoebe did the same. Van returned the favor, and I felt like a dork for not introducing them. "Phoebe and Dave are my best friends."

  My best friends exchanged a tense look, and I wondered again what was up. Dave addressed Van. "Can we keep Shannon for a few minutes? We really need to talk to her."

  I sort of wanted to dance with Van. I also wanted to know what was going on. And, okay, so I admit it, I didn't want to have to go into the details of my Noah mistake again. Seeing Van was like being smacked in the face with it. So I looked at Van. "Are you going to be here for a while?"

  "I think we're here for the night."

  "So, how about later? Like an hour, maybe?"

  He looked at his watch. "You can find me if you
want to dance. I'll be around."

  I watched him walk off and settle down at a table of six guys and four girls, all of whom looked about my age. They were attractive and looked like they were having fun. Weird, but I'd never thought of Van as having friends. He was Van from security, not Van, who had a life. It had never occurred to me what he did when he wasn't at work.

  And I was a little jealous, watching that girl with the red hair tuck her arm through his and lean on him, laughing. And he was laughing back.

  I wasn't jealous of Van. I was jealous that he looked happy. I wanted to feel like that. Maybe I should get a job as a security guard, where I didn't have to deal with all the crap. It would be the ultimate proof that I wasn't trying to impress my family.

  "So, Shannon, we need to talk to you."

  I refocused on my friends. "What's up?"

  Dave and Phoebe exchanged another glance, and they seemed to be having some silent argument about who was going to tell me. I tensed. What did they know? "Is Noah dating someone else?"

  Dave blinked then shook his head. "It's not about Noah."

  "Or Max? He's got a new girlfriend?" Dammit. That hurt.

  Phoebe shook her head rapidly back and forth like she was trying to dislodge a fly from her nose. "No, no, no. Nothing like that." She looked at Dave. "It's about me and Dave."

  I frowned. "What about you guys?"

  Dave put his arm around Phoebe's shoulders—look at that bonding. Great stuff!—and faced me. "Phoebe and I have been spending a lot of time together."

  "I know. I've been with you."

  He shook his head. "Other times."

  "And?"

  Dave looked at Phoebe, then back at me. "We're in love."

  I frowned. "What are you talking about?"

  "We love each other. I'm going to leave Yvonne, and Phoebe is going to leave Zach so we can be together." They exchanged intimate smiles. "I've been sleeping over at her apartment every night Yvonne is out of town. Her roommate hates me."

  I was stunned. "You guys are having an affair?"

  Phoebe frowned. "I don't like that word. We're in love. That's what matters."