“I took away your privacy,” I said, my voice shaking as relief at being done and fear of what would happen next began flooding me. “So I took mine away too. I’ve answered every question they asked, let them write whatever they want on me, showed everything I could without getting arrested. I didn’t know any other way to show you that I get it. I’ve got no privacy now. Those guys’ll never forget, and neither will the Internet with all the pictures people took. It’ll all be out there forever. And I knew that and I did it anyhow, because it was so wrong, what I did to you. And I know now how horrible it feels and I’ll never do it to anyone else, won’t do my job even though I love parts of it because the rest is so awful and...”
I couldn’t talk any more. It all hurt so much and I couldn’t stand it. I hung my head, the letters over my body blurring as my eyes filled with tears, and gave up. I had done everything I could do. It was up to them now.
I swayed on my stupid heels, so exhausted and sick I could hardly stand up, and Ron ripped off his jacket and threw it around me then pulled me into his arms.
That he was willing to touch me after all those guys had made me cry even harder, but I could still hear him saying, “For God’s sake, MC, Liv, what else does she have to do? You have to smarten up and forgive her now. You just have to--”
I heard him, and I knew he was wrong. I pulled back from him, clutching his coat around me to hide myself, then made myself pull it open because I couldn’t do that yet. “No, they don’t. They don’t have to. I want them to, you all know that, but they don’t have to. I don’t get to make them do anything. I did what I did to apologize, but whether they forgive me, whether they can ever trust me again, is up to them. Like when Aaron came to apologize for telling you guys that stuff about me at the bachelor party... he apologized but it was up to me to forgive. And I did. But it didn’t fix everything. And I hope you forgive me too, and maybe it does fix us,” I said, looking at the two women who’d been my friends. “But I can’t make that happen. I can’t. But I hope you do, I hope...” I couldn’t speak any more. I could barely breathe.
Liv and MC moved forward at the same time, without looking at each other to decide to move. “We do,” MC said, reaching for me, and Liv echoed it. “We really do.”
I grabbed onto both of them like they were saving me from drowning, crying too hard to talk.
They hugged me hard and Liv said into my ear, “You did so much... and he... Aaron really apologized?”
I managed to choke out a ‘yes’ through my tears, but I didn’t much care about Aaron at the moment. “MC,” I said, forcing the words out, “I’m so sorry. If I made you feel this bad, this exposed, I’m so sorry. Please. I’m so sorry. I want you to be my friend.”
MC gave a sob. “Summer, you’re killing me. I was just so scared of you taking Kent from me--”
That hurt even more than everything else had so far. That she’d been afraid of me doing that but had still let me be in her wedding, make her dress... I so wanted her as my friend. “I never wanted to do that, I really didn’t, I--”
“I know, I know, I just... you’re so much more interesting than me and--”
“Not to Kent,” I said, as firmly as I could though my tears were making my voice shake. “It was always you. You’re meant to be together. And I’m so glad. Truly.”
She pulled me closer so I was only hugging her. “I... thank you. And I’m sorry you had to do all this to get through to me.”
“You can forgive me?” I said, clinging to her, my voice shaking even more with hope.
“Hell, the better question is can you forgive me? If I hadn’t been such a grudge-holding bitch you wouldn’t have had to do this.”
Relief and happiness flooding me, I said, “No, it’s still you forgiving me. Plus, if I hadn’t screwed up before you wouldn’t have had to be--” I realized that repeating her self-insult was probably not a good plan. “Um....”
We both laughed through our tears. “Thanks for not calling me that, even though it’s true,” she said, hugging me tighter. “I think I need to get help for this grudge crap, and I will. God, Summer, you’re so brave. But where are your clothes? We should get you dressed. Aren’t you freezing?”
“I was,” I said, sniffling, “until you showed up.” I burrowed into her, snuggling against her white furry collar like a baby polar bear cuddling with its mother. “You’re all plushy.”
She laughed again and squeezed me tight. “I do forgive you, and I do trust you,” she said into my ear. “Now. But I don’t want to talk about the wedding with you, or have you see pictures or anything. Ever. Okay? Please don’t try. I don’t want you to know how it went. I want to keep that to myself.”
My throat tightened, but I understood. She had managed to make a wedding day for herself despite what I’d done and she didn’t want to let me into it. It hurt, but it was fair. “Okay,” I said back. “Thank you.”
She gave me one last squeeze, close enough that I thought I felt the bulge of her and Kent’s growing baby against me, then said over my shoulder, “Do we have clothes for this one?”
Patrick’s deep voice said, “Right here,” and in moments they had my dress back over my head and my jacket on. I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering, and Patrick said, “Summer, you’re one hell of a woman. Come see me at the bar sometime.”
“You got it,” I said, smiling through my tears. “And thank you.”
He left, shaking his head as he went, and I turned to Kent and Ron who stood together. I looked back and forth between their matching green eyes, seeing their shock at what I’d done and their happiness that it had worked, with no idea what to say, then let myself look only at Ron. I wanted him with me, so badly, but I didn’t have any words.
I didn’t need any.
He took several steps forward, never looking away from me, then kissed me full on the mouth.
As I threw my arms around him, my eyes filled with tears again but they were happy ones and I let them fall because they didn’t matter. All that mattered was his kiss and the feeling in it.
“Oh,” I heard MC say in surprise behind Ron. “Didn’t see that coming.”
Ron chuckled but didn’t break the kiss for a long amazing time. When he did, he brushed the tears from my cheeks and murmured, “I’m going to Seattle this fall. Found out yesterday.”
“Congrats,” I said, thrilled for him but miserable he’d be leaving.
“Found a great building with nice cheap one-bedroom apartments,” he said softly, still caressing my face. “Want to come live beside me but not with me? And maybe after we’ve been together a while... well, maybe some day we can see whether we can keep the tabloids away from our wedding?”
His tone was joking but his eyes told me he meant it, and I loved it. He wanted me with him. Me, not for sex but just for myself. “Yes,” I said. “I know all their tricks, so yes. And Seattle won’t know what hit it.”
He grinned and kissed me again, shorter but still wonderful. Then he turned his head and said to MC, “Didn’t see this coming? I thought you were always so--”
“No, you I saw, actually. After our party.” She pointed. “No, I meant them.”
I turned with Ron and saw Aaron and Liv locked in a kiss. He held her face between his hands like she was the most precious thing he’d ever seen, and she had her arms tight around his waist as if he’d try to get away.
“Whoa,” Ron said. “Me neither.”
Things clicked together in my mind. Liv telling me we had the same taste in guys when I was into Aaron. Aaron’s suddenly guilty face after the bachelor party while he looked at a group that would have included Liv. How she’d dumped her boyfriend and how happy Aaron had been about that. His apologizing to me because she told him to. Her being shocked by that just now. Shocked by how much influence she had over him? I cuddled into Ron. “I didn’t, but I could have.”
He grinned down at me. “Oh, you could have, could you? Because you’re such a star reporter?”
He leaned in and gave me another kiss. “I’m sure something else will come up for you.”
I took a breath to answer but my phone’s text tone cut me off.
I read, briefly, Simon’s message firing me and promising me I’d never get another job in the industry, then said, “Yup, no boss. Oh well. I think my fifteen minutes of fame are over. At least I’ve still got my bathing suits. And they’re even better now that I can handle the business side.” I grinned at Ron. “And you’ll support me, right?”
“Like a bra made of titanium.”
MC laughed. “Would that even work?”
“It’d be cold,” I said, shivering dramatically.
Liv and Aaron separated and came back to us wearing matching sheepish but delighted expressions. As MC hugged them both, I got another text.
“Hey there, word-covered woman. Just saw you got fired. Want to start your own site? How about some scoop to get it going? Like which of A and S I’m dating? You deserve it. We trust you.”
I stared at Dominic’s message, then turned the phone toward Ron. “I think that something else you mentioned has come up.”
He read the message, and I told the others what it meant, and they congratulated me. “Do it your own way,” Liv said, her arm back around Aaron like she didn’t want to stop touching him even for a second. “Do all the talking without all the stalking.”
“All talk, no stalk,” Ron said, grinning at me. “That’s my girlfriend.”
“Your...”
I laughed at Liv. “You weren’t paying attention. Too busy with... other things. Now you’ll have to wait to read about it on my new site.”
“All talk, no stalk,” the others said together.
Loving that idea, and knowing I could make it work, I wrote back to tell Dominic I would arrange a meeting with him in the next few days.
“No problem,” he wrote back immediately. “Have a great night.”
I looked around at my friends, and my boyfriend, the people I trusted with all my heart and soul and every word on my body. They knew my worst and my best and they were still here. “I will,” I responded. “More than words can say.”
Acknowledgements
For responding to my call for character names on my Facebook page (http://www.facebook.com/heather.wardell.author) I’d like to thank Summer Jenkins for suggesting Lucy and Dominic, Dana Zywicki Tapia for Agnes and Steve, and Andrea Irwin for Annabelle and CJ (which is short for Christopher John). I hope you like how I used the names! Also thanks to Tamra Reynolds for suggesting McKent for Kent and MC’s ‘couple name’.
Thanks once again to Scarlett Rugers Design (www.scarlettrugers.com) for the great cover for this book. Always a wonderful experience working with you!
I’m so lucky to have amazing beta readers! Thanks so much to Anna Galinski, Bianca Marzullo, Christal Merrelli, Jenny Eason, Kelli Nash, and Sheyann Sword for taking the time to read this book in second draft and help me make it better. (Any remaining errors, of course, are mine alone!)
For the seventeenth book in a row, Holly MacLeod read multiple drafts of this book and provided me with her unique blend of support and butt-kicking. Much appreciated!
And again for the seventeenth book in a row, my husband. He doesn’t read my books, but none of them would exist without his support and encouragement and willingness to accept pizza for dinner when I forget to start cooking. He makes everything possible.
Thank You For Reading
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Read on to see a preview of my next book. Thanks again, and happy reading!
What’s Coming Next?
My next book, “Safe Harbor?” is a continuation of my Toronto Collection, following on from “All At Sea” and “Plan Overboard”. Celia’s always thought she was just emotional. But when she witnesses a near-murder and finds herself feeling everything the victim feels, she wonders if she’s losing her mind. Is it possible there’s a safe harbor somewhere for her?
If you sign up for my mailing list you will be one of the first to know when “Safe Harbor?” comes out (likely fall 2015) and you’ll also get a free story and a chance to win a book every month!
Chapter One
I checked my phone again, heaving a sigh. I’d forced myself to be five minutes late for my monthly dinner with my friends and even so I’d been waiting ten minutes. Not surprising, since in university the four of us had been known as “the late ones and Celia”, but annoying.
Reluctantly putting the phone away to preserve its low battery instead of playing with it to pass the time, I shifted from foot to foot to relax my always-stiff lower back and wished I had a book, or even the imagination to invent a great story like I waited the way Dawn would have. My friend’s short stories were always full of improbable romance with impossibly perfect men, but at this point even that entertainment would be--
My mind filled, in an almost painful rush, not with a story but with emotions. Terror and pain and a desperate desire to escape. Fury and disgust and an equally desperate desire to possess and control. Somehow I knew the first feelings came from a woman and the others from a man, and the combination felt so real and so overwhelming that I had to grab a nearby mailbox to keep myself upright.
Such a fierce reaction from me, to something that didn’t even exist. Was I imagining all this? Hallucinating? Was I losing my mind?
Before I could do anything but wonder what was wrong with me, I heard the first scream.
I looked up, with everyone else on the busy Toronto street, and saw a woman trying to climb back onto a third-floor apartment balcony while a man fought to push her over the edge.
Everyone gasped in horror, but only because they saw it. They weren’t feeling what I felt. Nobody ever did. I’d always had emotions swirling through me like a thick confusing mist, I’d always been the girl who cried at commercials and got over-involved in other people’s problems. I’d gotten more or less used to that. But this?
I couldn’t have been more terrified if I’d been the woman, and at the same time the man’s rage made me want to scream my fury to the skies. Somehow I was feeling everything both of them felt. This had been bad enough when I’d thought I was hallucinating. Now I could see it was real, and that made it a million times worse. How was I so connected with two total strangers, especially one who’d do what the man was doing?
As people began to yell at him from the street to leave the woman alone, he backed up quickly and disappeared through the sliding door, and the woman’s relief and hope flooded me.
Then so did her utter despair when he rushed back onto the balcony a moment later.
Wielding a baseball bat.
His first smash against her fingers sent such paralyzing fear through me that I couldn’t do anything but watch. She didn’t either. She watched as he raised the bat again and brought it down once more, and watched as her poor broken fingers gave up their grip on the railing.
Then the worst emotion of all threw itself into me.
Hope that she’d d
ie so he wouldn’t be able to hurt her again.
I knew it was hers and I knew she meant it and the horror of picking up such a feeling from another human being made my knees give way so I collapsed in a heap on the sidewalk.
Fresh anger and revulsion swirled through me and I looked up in time to see him hit her other hand with all his strength.
She fell, like a silent broken rag doll.
The people around me screamed, their shock and fear feeling like background noise to hers and his hatred of her. I shut my eyes but it didn’t help; I still felt every second of her plummeting to the sidewalk as he watched with loathing.
When she hit the ground, the onlookers gasped, “Is she dead?” but I didn’t have to join the group racing to her to know she wasn’t. She’d done something bad to the arm she landed on, probably another broken bone by how sharp and awful the pain was, and every part of her ached and throbbed too like she’d been beaten.
Which she had. By him, by the pavement, and by life itself. She did want to die, and she didn’t even get that wish. She had nothing, and the depth of her despair made me want to die too.
I stood, biting my lip in a desperate and useless attempt to push away the pain and emotions which I was somehow impossibly feeling, as people flocked to her and sirens rose.
“Celia, did you see that?”
I turned, finding it difficult with my body full of echoes of what had been done to her, and managed to nod at April and Erin, hardly noticing as my friends’ shock and horror was added to everything else I was feeling.
April gave my arm a squeeze, the same arm on which the woman had landed, and I gasped as though I had a broken bone too.
April jerked her hand back. “Sorry, did I hurt you?”
“I... bumped into a door yesterday,” I lied, not knowing how to tell her what was going on with me. “It’s okay, just a bruise.”
She patted me lightly, and Erin said, “Then you’re better off than her.”
Fifteen Minutes of Summer Page 24