by Rachael Wade
Bending down to join him now, I took hold of his hand. “I’ll never hurt you like that.”
“I want so badly to believe that. But the truth is there’s nothing you can do to assure me. So I can’t promise you I won’t flip out like that again. It comes with the package, just like my other bullshit.”
“I can deal with that. You put up with all of my bullshit,” I gave him a wry smile.
“Can you? Because I want you. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone.”
My eyes dropped to the floor.
“I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, Kate.” He took hold of my chin and pulled my gaze back to his. “And it scares the living hell out of me. Loving her broke me, but the love I had for her was blind, naive, one-sided. Your love is one hundred percent genuine and has the power to completely obliterate me.”
And therein lay the problem . He was preaching to the choir. The difference was he had an extensive backlist of affairs that seemed to further confirm one thing: I wasn’t the only one he had fallen hard for. He’d been deserted, but he’d done his fair share of deserting, too. The same instinctual sense that told me his love was genuine also told me I was only one small step away from being the next piece of history on that ill-fated list. Either my instinct was conflicted, or I’d misread its signals all along.
16. DISOBEDIENCE
“So he was engaged. That’s a good thing. That means the guy wasn’t afraid of commitment before his player days.” Carter’s voice melted through the phone, full of comfort and reassurance. He was so good at this stuff. “Maybe now you can leave it alone? Let the dude move on, Kate.”
“I know, you’re right. It just really threw me for a loop. I mean, he told me things with Jamie were serious, but he never mentioned the engagement. I just hate that he feels like he needs to keep it from me and I don’t like being kept in the dark...is that so unreasonable?” I tucked my legs under the blanket and curled up on the couch, listening for the turn of the doorknob, knowing Ryan would be home any second. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet since his admission, wandering around the apartment all week, pensive and broody. I mindlessly flipped through the TV channels as I sipped hot chocolate, hoping pre-freak-out Ryan would make an appearance tonight when he came home from work.
“Well, that’s an area you’re an expert in, so I’m sure you can understand where he’s coming from on that one.”
“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Forget it,” he mumbled, clearing his throat. “Look, take my word for it, Kate. Move on and let it go. The guy broke down and told you shit that was probably really hard for him to talk about. Don’t dwell. And don’t make him, either. He loves you, that’s all that matters.”
“Yeah, yeah. Thank you, Carter...for everything.”
“Good luck at the gala tomorrow night. I’ll see you Saturday morning? Can’t wait to hear all about it.”
“Mmmkay. Yup, see you then. Have a good day at work.” I hung up and stared at the phone, thankful we still had our Saturday morning market dates every week. We’d kept them up after my mom passed, the task comforting and familiar. It didn’t feel right abandoning the routine.
“Hey,” Ryan gave me a small smile when he walked through the door. I stood to greet him, but he gestured to sit back down on the couch, crouching down to sit next to me. “I have some news.”
“Oh? Good news, I hope?” Maybe he apologized to Mark after all, came to his senses. Mark said he wouldn’t hold anything against me, personally, but I was still embarrassed to face him tomorrow night. Ryan’s apology would at least smooth things over a bit.
“Well, I hooked you up with someone else, directly with a publisher, actually. You have a meeting with him Tuesday morning at ten a.m.” Reaching over, he kissed my forehead and waited for my reaction. “I told you I’d make this right. Now you can skip this gala tomorrow night and just start fresh with a publisher who is really interested in your manuscript just the way it is.”
“Really?” I shifted, rustling with the blanket. “Wait, skip the gala? That’s such short notice to cancel, Ry. Who is the publisher?”
“An acquaintance of mine set me up with Bob Hall over at Simon and Warden. They’re an excellent house, and they’ve already read the first five chapters. I sent it over yesterday morning.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of them. Wow,” I blinked, ran my fingers over his knuckles. How am I going to get out of this one? “Thank you, babe, that’s such a nice surprise. But I don’t want to cancel with Mark, especially not at the last minute like this. It’s unprofessional, and I’ve already put so much effort into this deal.”
Ryan bit his lip and sat back on the couch, his gaze fixed on the coffee table in front of us. “I really pulled strings to set this up for you. And I told you, Mark’s interested in more than your writing. Please, forget the gala. He’s been screwing around with you, anyway. He wants you to practically rewrite the entire novel.”
I released his hand and stood and stretched, turning to head to the kitchen for some water. Showing Ryan how appreciative I was for his gesture yet declining it at the same time was going to be harder than I thought. He really wasn’t going to let this thing with Mark go.
“Ry, I really don’t want to argue. I admit the path with Mark has been...bumpy. But after the way you treated him, it was beyond generous of him to still offer me representation. And I’m meeting with his partner Eric at this gala, too. I can’t blow off both of them, I already have too much invested in this. Maybe I can do both? Meet with this Bob Hall guy and politely decline in person?”
“You mean go to the meeting anyway, even though you already know you’re going to decline his offer.”
“Yes. Why not?”
“Because you’re wasting his time, then.”
“Look, I’m trying to decline in the best way possible, so your efforts won’t be completely in vain.” I took a swig of water and leaned on the counter. Ryan was still staring at the coffee table. “I don’t know what else to do besides tell you how much I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, Ry. But I’ve made my mind up. I’m sticking with Mark and the publisher he’s signing me with.”
“Please at least see what Bob Hall has to offer. Whatever he offers is guaranteed to be better than what Burgess wants to give you.” He stood up now, turning to face me, him on one side of the counter, me on the other. He wasn’t budging, but I couldn’t either.
“Ryan...”
“I’m begging you to forget this gala. Please, don’t see Mark again.”
I didn’t have to search very far for the source of his distress. One look at him, and the quiet desperation was obvious. Those caramel-colored eyes I loved so much were pleading with me, pleading for more than just a change in my business plans. This was about Mark, not my publishing deal.
“This really means a lot to you.”
He nodded solemnly, floating around the counter to meet me. “I don’t like you working so closely with him. I know you don’t like it, but he’s officially on my shit list, and I don’t trust him.”
“I can accept that you don’t trust him, but I need for you to have a little faith in me.”
“I do have faith in you, Kate.” He reached over and folded me into his arms, peering down at me. “But I need you to be patient with me. Can you do this? For me?”
I wanted to object vehemently, wanted to tell him how irrational and insecure he was being about this whole situation. But irrationality and insecurity were things I was very familiar with myself, so part of me empathized with him.
“I’ll cancel the gala and meet with Simon and Warden on Tuesday.”
Ryan’s shoulders relaxed and he tightened his hold on me, tilting my head to rest into the crook of his neck. “Thank you,” he whispered, kissing my earlobe. I wrapped my arms around his waist and closed my eyes, suddenly wishing I had a girlfriend to talk to. Boys were simpler, but no less exhausting.
***
The noon lunch rush hour
was a welcome break from the slow, quiet pace of the work day. I exited the literacy center and rounded the corner to my favorite lunch spot, smiling gratefully when I spotted Crystal waiting for me at a table. She smiled back, a soft, uncertain smile, shifting in her seat when I approached her and set my bag down.
“Hey, thanks for coming,” I said, ordering right away. I handed the waiter the menu and leaned in to rest my elbows on the table.
“Sure, I’m glad you called. A little surprised, but...glad.”
“I know things have been weird between us,” I said, shrugging off my jacket. “I should’ve just talked to you about it when you started seeing Dean. I mean, I know he’s probably assured you that nothing has ever gone on between him and me, but it’s time I tell you personally. I have never been interested in being more than friends, I can promise you that. And he really, really cares about you. Compared to the others he’s...” I stopped for a moment, glancing out the window. It probably wasn’t a good idea to compare the girl to all the bimbos before her if I wanted to make a friend here.
She laughed lightly, her bright green eyes following my gaze out the window, the sunlight highlighting her pretty golden locks. “Well, aside from caring about Dean, that’s one thing we have in common,” she said, playing with her straw wrapper. “Apparently, our guys have dated half of the Pacific Northwest population.” We both turned to look at one another. “I know what you’re trying to say, and thank you. From what Dean’s told me, it sounds like it’s the same for you and Ryan. You were the one to tame him, huh?”
“I’m not sure ‘tame’ is the word I’d use,” I laughed, taking a sip of my drink. “Most of the time I feel like he’s sort of taming me. Actually, that’s one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you...”
“Oh?” Her eyebrows shot up as the waiter set our plates down.
“Yeah, well I was going to talk to Carter about this because he’s my best friend and all, but I think I need a different perspective. I don’t have any girlfriends...that’s never really worked in my favor.” I shrugged, looking down. Crystal sought out my eyes, pulling my gaze to hers with a shy smile.
“And you need a girl’s opinion about something to do with Ryan?” she asked.
“Yes. Well, he’s irrationally jealous of my new agent. Okay, maybe not completely irrational. He has baggage that warrants it, I guess.” I waved my right hand, shooing away that subject. “Anyway, he’s completely convinced that this guy is attracted to me and asked me—made me promise—that I wouldn’t go to this gala tonight. I’m meeting with this agent and Ryan wants me to cancel it and drop my deal with his agency completely.”
“And you’re not okay with that.”
“Definitely not.”
“And you didn’t cancel, did you?” her eyes slanted accusingly.
“No, but I told him I did.”
“Uh oh.”
“I tried telling Ryan last night that it’s so unprofessional to blow it off on such short notice, but he begged.”
“Well, is this agent guy really attracted to you? I mean, has he hit on you or anything?”
“No, no, nothing like that.” Taking a bite of my sandwich, I recalled his subtle move, touching my knee, and the way his eyes lingered on my chest. “To Ryan’s credit, this Mark guy is a little flirtatious. But it’s nothing I can’t handle, and I’d like to think he’s professional enough that he wouldn’t actually try anything. And he’s—well, was—a friend of Ryan’s. They went to college together.”
“Oh, so Ryan knows him?”
“Yes, but now he doesn’t trust him around me.”
“Ah, yes. The apartment incident. I heard about this.”
“Dean and Carter,” we both chimed in unison, me shaking my head in understanding.
“And I haven’t mentioned that I’ve noticed Mark’s wandering eyes, because I don’t want to give him any more of a reason to jump to conclusions, you know?”
“Hhhmm,” Crystal scrunched her nose, “this Mark sounds a bit two-faced.”
Placing the remaining triangles of my sandwich into two little squares, I shook my head and scooted back in the booth, taking a deep breath. “He’s very fake, in my opinion. And now Ryan set me up with another publisher and expects me to dump Mark, just to appease him.”
“Okay, so if Ryan doesn’t trust him and you think he’s flirtatious yourself, why do you still want to work with him? Do you really want an agent who is going to make you uncomfortable?”
“That’s just it, I see it as a business thing. I’m already invested, supposed to sign the contract tonight. The way I see it, I couldn’t care less if Mark is interested in me because I would never take his shit. My focus is on signing a deal with this publisher he has lined up, on the career opportunity. The rest is irrelevant in my book. I think Ryan’s blowing it out of proportion.”
Crystal gently nodded, her eyes moving to the salt and pepper shakers to the side of the table.
“Would you cancel if Dean was jealous?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, bringing her eyes back to mine. “This is your career and you don’t want Ryan meddling just because he’s jealous. But it doesn’t sound like he’s trying to control you; it sounds like it’s genuinely important to him for some reason. If he went out of his way to set you up with another publisher over this, it really matters to him—whether he’s blowing it out of proportion or not.”
“Crap,” I let out a breath, dropping my head in my hands. “That’s what I think, too. It’s just...” I picked up my spoon and fished it around in my soup bowl, unsure of how to verbalize the conflict I’d felt brewing all week.
“What is it?”
“Since I’ve met Ryan, everything I told myself I would never do, I find myself doing. It’s not that I mean to be inconsiderate of his feelings, but I feel like he’s interfering with...the way I live my life. And this canceling-with-Mark thing is just too much. ”
“You’re set in your ways,” Crystal said matter-of-factly.
“Very,” I chuckled, relief in my voice. Relief that this girl, who I barely knew, understood what I was going through. And that she could relate to where I was coming from. The gift of perception. “I want to manage my life and be self-sufficient, and Ryan’s already responsible for setting me up with Mark.”
“You feel like Ryan’s encroaching on your independence.”
“Very much so, yeah.”
“Well, you’re asking me if I’d cancel. But you didn’t cancel, you just told Ryan you did. So, what you’re really asking me is whether or not I think you’re doing the right thing by lying and going anyway.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“I think if your instinct tells you that sticking with Mark would be a good business decision, then go. Hopefully Ryan will come to his senses and support your decision. ”
Instinct. Well, instinct is a funny thing. And it had been a real pain in the ass lately.
***
At four o’clock, I rushed home and took a quick shower, careful to select a dress with a fair amount of coverage. Settling on a little black number and a pair of burgundy suede heels, I grabbed my peacoat and made my way out the door, leaving a note on the counter for Ryan. He’d be home by seven, and hopefully by the time I got home, he’d have a few hours to calm down and think things through. And forgive me.
17. DODGE BALL
The Westin ballroom was beautiful, all decked out and full of the who’s who of the publishing world. Mark spotted me from across the room and gave me an eager wave, a tall debonair man with black wavy hair next to him. Following suit, the man lifted his glass in my direction and smiled, stepping forward with Mark to meet me near the foyer. Mustering all of my bravery, I offered my hand when the men approached me.
“Eric, I presume?” I smiled at Mark’s partner, shaking his hand.
“Yes, it’s a pleasure. Kate, you look stunning. Mark’s told me so much about you,” he shook my hand and winked. He was built, strong, and seemed we
ll composed, but the liquor on his breath made me wonder how he managed to appear so in control. I was nearly suffering a hangover just breathing in his scent. Mark smelled of whiskey, too, but he didn’t seem quite as loaded as his friend.
“Ah, good things, I hope,” I gripped my handbag, looking for the nearest table to sit down.
“Here you go, Kate. I hope white is okay,” Mark handed me a glass of wine and glanced around. I accepted gratefully, making a mental to note to call them a cab after dinner if they weren’t staying in the hotel. “So, is everything okay...er...did you come with a date?”
“Oh,” I blushed, glancing down. “No, he’s not coming, Mark. Again, I’m very sorry about...everything. I can’t tell you how appreciative I am that you agreed to see me again.”
Visibly relaxing, Mark flagged a waiter and took another drink from a tray, tilting his head to the far end of the room. “Let’s sit, shall we? And it’s certainly my pleasure. I hope whatever was going on with Ryan worked itself out. He always was a bit of a loose cannon.”
The three of us took seats at a large, round dinner table dressed with silk ivory linens, the other guests acknowledging us briefly as we settled in our chairs. Servers flitted around us like hummingbirds, quick and nearly invisible as they swapped out salad dishes and fresh glasses of wine. Dinner lagged as Eric chatted with a couple next to him, and Mark stepped away from the table every few minutes to take phone calls. They both seemed to slow down a bit on the alcohol intake, thankfully. I picked at some bread intermittently, aware I’d need more in my stomach at the rate they were passing me wine. I started to feel a bit of a buzz, a weak haze washing over me when I set the butter down. “Whoa,” I mumbled to myself, standing and picking up my clutch.
Mark motioned for me to wait as he stepped out to answer yet another call, and Eric cut off his conversation with the couple next to him and turned to face me.