Eric tentatively asked if he could visit me, and I said yes. It would be nice to see a familiar face, especially someone who was currently my biggest supporter when it came to my novels. Despite his unwanted sexual advances toward me, he was redeeming himself quite a bit these days. Maybe one day, we could even become good friends. It was something to certainly look forward to.
For my last night in Los Angeles, Stacy, Lorenzo, and Wally made reservations at Mastro’s Steakhouse for our last dinner together. I was surprised to see Helen Archer make an appearance, along with Eric Steinberg, who seemed taken aback by the romance writer’s presence at the restaurant. She, on the other hand, knew who he was, and shamelessly flirted with him. She even offered to send him her latest draft in The Aristocrat’s Forbidden Love series, dropping boulder-sized hints that she needed a new publisher for her series’ spin-off. It was tentatively titled The Viscount’s Erotic Journeys, and the Viscount was inspired by none other than Lorenzo. It was a shocker that really shocked no one at this point.
Throughout our dinner, I had to remind myself not to laugh as I ate my Alaskan halibut. Poor Eric was trying to enjoy his Porterhouse steak, but Helen wouldn’t leave him alone. I wondered if he regretted coming tonight. I gave him a commiserating smile, which he returned with a faint grimace and a slight shake of the head. I almost felt sorry for him. When I kicked Lorenzo under the table and tilted my head in Helen’s direction, he finally took the hint and made sure to hold his beloved’s attention for the rest of the evening. It was only then that Eric could breathe a sigh of relief and relax enough to enjoy his meal.
After dinner, he took my hands and stared into my eyes as we stood outside the restaurant. “I’m sorry to dash off like this, but I have to meet an author who insisted on meeting me tonight. He’s a curmudgeon but a well-respected author and friend. I hope to introduce you two one day.”
I smiled at him. “That sounds lovely. I hope so, too.”
He faltered for a second, then asked, “May I hug you?”
Nodding, I settled into his embrace, inhaling his expensive cologne and pressing my cheek against his crisp Armani suit. We stood like that for a minute, just enjoying each other’s warmth and kindness. Eventually, he was the first to pull away.
“Call me when you arrive in Sydney,” he said quietly. “And let me know when I can visit.”
“Will do.” And I waved goodbye as he slid into the limo, his driver probably taking him to some other fancy location.
That same night, Stacy and Lorenzo insisted that we should all sleep together in the living room. Wally’s eyes lit up with unfettered joy.
“Aw, mate, are we having a real-life orgy?”
“No!” the rest of us shouted in unison, grossed out by the mere suggestion. We were so close that it would practically feel like incest. Then we had to spend the next ten minutes begging Wally to please put on some fricking pajamas, because Lorenzo and I were not going to sleep beside him otherwise. Grumbling under his breath, he yanked on a pair of shorts sans undies and snuggled beside Stacy. When it appeared relatively safe (no stray dick flopping around or playing peekaboo beneath the shorts), I lay beside Wally, and Lorenzo lay beside me. We both sighed in relief, patting our round bellies.
Or at least I did. His stomach was as flat as always.
After lights out, Lorenzo nudged me with his arm. “Remember what I said to you on your twenty-fifth birthday?” he whispered.
I had to think for a bit. “You offered to give me a free cuddle, and said I could tell you all my worries and thoughts.”
He nodded, his eyes glittering in the semi-dark. “The offer still stands, if you want it.”
I did want it, now more than ever.
So Lorenzo cuddled me from behind, and true to form, there wasn’t a full-blown erection digging into my back as I talked softly about how I was afraid I would never meet anyone like Hunter again, how much I was going to miss my friends, how worried I was about Grandma’s health, and the crushing loneliness that would probably follow me all my life. I also spoke at length about my weird obsession with horror movies. As I talked and talked, Lorenzo stayed silent and hugged me, occasionally brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. And I finally understood the importance of just holding someone and talking, no holds barred.
It also dawned on me that Lorenzo was very good at what he did. It was no wonder his clients kept coming back for more.
And so for the first time since I left the penthouse, I was able to sleep soundly as my friend held me close on my final night in Los Angeles.
Chapter 24
Ten Weeks Later
“Possum, give me a hand, would you?” Grandma rose from her wheelchair, raising her hand toward me like she was a queen and I her royal subject. I grinned and helped her to the sofa, where Dad was watching a game of cricket. He scooted over and made room for her.
Grandma shot him a look of open disapproval. “You are the worst son-in-law in the history of sons-in-law,” she complained. “Now go and get me a cold beer, you lazy excuse for a man. And be sure to bring me a straw.”
“One cold beer coming right up,” Dad said, his gaze still stuck on the TV screen. Before he left for the kitchen, he winked at me over his shoulder. I giggled, then ducked my head as Grandma whipped around, her gray curls bouncing. She narrowed her eyes at me.
“Rude, ungrateful child,” she muttered. “I see the publishing deal has gone to your head.”
“No, it hasn’t. I just think you’re funny, that’s all.”
“I am not here to amuse you, Rosemary Thornton.” Her mouth thinned as her eyes gave me the once-over. “You look terrible today. How are you settling in?”
“It’s been ten weeks, Grandma. I’m doing okay.” I was renting a three-bedroom apartment in the city, with views overlooking the Harbour Bridge and Opera House. The place came furnished, so all I had to do was buy some bed sheets, pillows, dishes and utensils, and other miscellaneous items that didn’t require any heavy lifting. It did feel a bit weird living without roommates, though; I found the place far too quiet for my liking. Still, I couldn’t complain. The rental price was decent, I had an awesome view, and it was nice to be back home after all these years.
Grandma fiddled with her lace collar. “So, when is your dashing editor coming to visit you?”
Eric was coming to Sydney on a two-day business trip. I had to admit, I was looking forward to seeing him. “He’s arriving tomorrow. Why do you ask?”
“Never you mind. Where’s my bloody beer?” She sat up straighter and bellowed, “Alan! Where did you go off to! Bring me my beer, Alan! My beer, damn you!”
It turned out Dad had crept outside to watch the rest of the game on his cell phone, but had forgotten to lower the volume – the tinny voice of the commentator filtered back into the house and soon reached our ears. To be honest, I couldn’t blame him. We all loved Grandma and especially enjoyed her visits, but she could be a bit of a handful at times.
“Where’s your mother?” she demanded, and I snapped back to attention.
“She went to Coles to buy some groceries. Didn’t you say you wanted lamb roast for tonight’s dinner?”
“Well, I’ve changed my mind. I have a terrible craving for prawns.”
Mum was going to chuck a massive fit when she came home with her bagfuls of ingredients.
I kissed Grandma’s cheek and stood up. “It was great seeing you, Grandma. But I have to go.”
“You’re not staying for dinner?”
I shook my head, grinning. The last thing I wanted was to stick around while Mum and Grandma clashed over tonight’s meal. It would be safer and quieter to just toss a frozen dinner in the microwave and eat in solitude.
As I stepped outside, I caught Dad loitering in the garage. “I’m going, Dad. Maybe you should pop back inside and get Grandma that beer you promised?”
He smiled sheepishly at his only child. “Give me five more minutes, love. The game’s almost done.”
; Blowing him a kiss, I hurried toward my mini SUV and drove back to my city apartment. It only took about twenty minutes to get there, park the car, and settle in the apartment. Living close to my parents and yet having my own space was going to prove especially convenient in the coming months.
Let’s just focus on one thing at a time, shall we?
For instance, Eric’s arrival tomorrow. We were meeting for lunch at the Opera Bar, and I couldn’t wait to see him. For the past ten weeks, I’d only managed to write two chapters of my latest manuscript, the one that Eric had praised at the Hamptons. Maybe it was because of my sudden move back home, or the fact that I missed my friends terribly, but I couldn’t buckle down and write for long stretches.
Or maybe it’s because of the gaping hole in your heart, left by a certain someone?
“Shut up,” I muttered, placing a frozen dinner in the microwave. I wasn’t going to think about him. Tonight, my only pleasure was going to be this reheated teriyaki chicken with rice, and a lineup of horror movies – Wrong Turn 1, Wrong Turn 2, and Wrong Turn 3, because my life had taken such a wrong turn when he had come into my life.
But I wasn’t going to think about him.
Fifteen minutes into the first movie, I gave in and ordered a large pepperoni lovers pizza to make up for that atrocious reheated dinner.
The next day, I dressed in a simple summer dress and tan-colored sandals. When I met Eric in front of the Opera House, he laughed and gave me a warm hug. He was wearing a pink polo shirt and khaki pants, with a pair of aviator sunglasses dangling from his breast pocket. He looked good, really good, like he’d been working out more.
“You even have a tan,” I said, amazed. “Isn’t New York a bit chilly these days?”
“My friends and I were at the Maldives last week,” he admitted as we made our way to the Opera Bar. “Ten full days of snorkeling, swimming, and sleeping under the sun. I have to say, it was time well spent.”
When we sat down at our table, Eric ordered the sirloin and I ordered the linguine with basil pesto. He then scanned the wine list, choosing a glass of Pinot Noir to accompany his meal.
“What about you, Rosemary?” he asked, fully expecting me to enjoy a glass of wine with him.
“Just water for me, thanks.”
He seemed taken aback. “But why? You’ve always enjoyed wine with your meals.”
“Not today,” I said, smiling, and left it at that. Eric didn’t pursue the matter any further, but he stared at me thoughtfully even after our orders came and our conversation steered toward my soon-to-be-published debut novel. When he later saw me stuffing forkfuls of cheesecake into my mouth, he fell silent, his eyes narrowing.
“I have a sweet tooth,” I said finally, embarrassed. “Please don’t look at me like that. I’m not depressed or anything.”
“Depression didn’t even cross my mind, Rosemary.” He looked as if he wanted to say more, but at the last second, opted to eat his chocolate fondant instead.
For the rest of the afternoon, we walked around The Rocks, looking at souvenirs and accessories. I bought him a kangaroo scrotum bottle opener – which I had to force him to accept – and then bought one more because I knew Grandma would appreciate such a gift. When evening finally came upon us, Eric sighed contentedly and took my hands in his.
“What a fun day I’ve had,” he said, smiling at me. “It almost makes me want to cancel my business dinner tonight.”
“You could always come back to visit. Or you could arrange that overdue writers’ retreat and give me an excuse to visit New York.”
His expression grew serious. “I guess I do owe you that.” After a prolonged pause, he pulled me close to him, his lips on my ear.
“He was a fool to let you go.” Eric murmured. There was no question who he was. “It just boggles my mind that he hasn’t even tried to make this right.”
I really didn’t want to talk about it. “Eric, let’s not do this now . . .”
He drew back, holding me at arm’s length. “Did you know that he fired Roxy a month ago?”
“He did?”
“She called me, absolutely livid. Said she was going to ruin his life. Then she grew mad when I told her to stop calling me.” Eric shook his head, frowning. “It makes me wonder how he put up with her all those years.”
“He did it because she was good at her job.” Talking about Hunter was still too painful for me, so I quickly changed the subject. “You’d better go now, Eric. You don’t want to be late to your business dinner.”
After another hug and promises to see each other soon, he hailed down a taxi and left for the Hilton Hotel. As I slowly made my way to the train station, I thought about that missed opportunity to spend an entire weekend with Hunter, in a cozy cabin with nothing but trees and peaceful isolation. What might have happened if I had chosen to do that instead of going to the Hamptons? Would we still be together today?
All these questions were an exercise in futility. It was done; I had to accept it and move on with my life. But I still wanted to have that weekend, even if Hunter wouldn’t be there with me. It would be a way to get some much-needed writing done, and it could also tidy up everything Hunter-related and help kick-start the next chapter in my life.
My mind made up, I quickened my steps toward the train station, eager to get home and start booking cabin rooms for the upcoming weekend.
Chapter 25
The cozy cabin in the Blue Mountains provided the perfect spot – private, yet within driving distance to many restaurants and shops. There was wireless internet and a host of other amenities that would make my weekend comfortable and stress-free. Satisfied with my cabin, I pulled out my laptop and placed it carefully on the desk. I decided to have a chicken-and-lettuce sandwich before throwing myself into several hours of uninterrupted writing.
I was just finishing the last bite when a bubbly ringtone floated from my laptop. Grinning, I lifted my eyes and saw Stacy was on Skype.
“Hey, it’s Friday night. Why aren’t you out having fun?” I was glad to see my friend, even if it was only through a video call.
“I don’t do that anymore, Roe. My life is just one dull moment after another.”
“Being pregnant is never dull. Emotional and at times stressful, yes, but never dull.”
Stacy frowned at me. “I have news.”
Uh, oh. I didn’t like the expression on her face. “Is the baby okay?” I asked, alarmed.
Stacy sighed, rubbing her cheeks tiredly. “The doctor said I’m having twin girls.”
“What!” I froze for a moment, then burst out a belly laugh. “How did Wally take the news?”
“He locked himself in the bedroom for three whole days. Wouldn’t come out. Wouldn’t even say a word. I had to put a tray of food near the door so he wouldn’t go hungry.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“I kid you not. And it gets even better. When he finally decided to come out of his self-imposed isolation, the first words he croaked were, ‘Wallyanna and Walderine.’”
I looked at her strangely. “What’s a Wallyanna and a Walderine?”
“Names, Roe!” she screeched. “The psycho wanted to name our twins Wallyanna and Walderine! After three days of meditative silence, this is the inspired crap he came up with! Said we would call them Wally and Waldo for short.”
God help those poor, unborn babies. No wonder Stacy was furious.
“Tell me you refused, because that’s just a thousand kinds of wrong.”
She took several deep breaths and calmed down. “I did. I also called his rich grandmother and told her what happened. She threatened to cut him off from her will. So we settled for Imogen and Emilia instead.”
“Well, at least it turned out all right. They’re such pretty names.” I smiled happily into the camera. “I can’t wait to meet them, Stace.”
“And I can’t wait for them to meet their aunt. Bet you’re going to spoil them rotten.” She paused briefly, then repeated, “I have news.
”
“What? Again?”
“Yeah, but it’s about Hunter this time.”
I stared at the screen sullenly. “If it’s about how he fired Roxy a month ago, you don’t have to tell me. I already know.”
“Ah, but did you also know that he left Los Angeles? For good?”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I fell back against the chair. I was not going to ask. I did not care. He was free to go wherever –
“When?” I mumbled, unable to help myself.
“About two days ago.”
“Where?”
“Back to Sydney, obviously. Duh.”
Hunter was making it very difficult for me to kick-start my new life. Because it was too stressful to think about, I changed the subject to something more domestic.
“Does that mean you and Wally are back in the penthouse now?”
“Yep. And Lorenzo moved in with Helen Archer about two weeks ago. Our cramped apartment is out on the market again.”
“Well, at least that’s all sorted out.” I fell silent, nervously biting on my lip, then asked hesitantly, “Stace, why did he come back to Sydney? What’s he doing here?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out, isn’t it?” she said airily, then she abruptly ended our video chat. Just like that. Without even a “bye!” or a “talk to you soon.”
“You. Rude. Arse,” I said with much feeling. Rising from my chair, I stared out the window, noticing the sunny weather outside. Maybe a quick drive to the nearby shops might put my mind at ease. I had to stock the mini fridge with enough food to last me till tomorrow, anyway. And something about Stacy’s tanned face had reminded me of Cheetos, and now I had an unholy craving for them.
My mouth watering, I grabbed my car and cabin keys, then hurriedly stepped outside. There was no avoiding it; tonight was going to be binge night. I decided to get some sausage rolls, roast chicken drumettes, and chocolate mousse on the way. Instant guilt washed over me, but I quickly pushed it aside.
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