My Forever Plus-One

by Shannyn Schroeder

  He loved her. Was in love with her.

  Reaching up, he pushed her hair back so he could see her whole face when he said the words. “I love you.”

  She smiled. “I love you, too.”

  He blew out a breath. When you loved someone as long as he had loved her, how was he supposed to say it in a way to make her realize that this was different? “No, Evelyn. I’m in love you. More than as a friend. More than as a lover. I love you with my whole heart. You’ve managed to seep into every cell of my body in a way no one else will ever be able to erase. I’m yours.”

  She blinked back tears. “For a guy who doesn’t like to talk, you seem to know exactly what to say to turn my world upside down.” She smiled again. “I love you, too. All of me. Forever.” She leaned forward to meet his lips. Against his mouth, she whispered, “No one else.”

  Like somehow she knew he needed to hear the words.

  Their kiss was hot and sexy, yet meaningful in a completely new way. Owen knew he wouldn’t have the words to describe it, so he didn’t try. He simply let her take him to that place where they were perfect.

  …

  The contract Marcus sent was pretty good. They spent days going back and forth negotiating smaller points. They conceded and gave her voice in approving the host, which meant Marilyn was a shoo-in. She was comfortable enough with the terms that she didn’t try to find a better offer.

  Once the contract was signed, everything that had been moving like a sloth was now fast-forward. She’d been putting in long hours hiring a crew since Marcus was in New York.

  He’d sent an assistant from his office to work with her. Tyler was young, but he’d been working with Marcus long enough that he knew what he was doing. This wasn’t his first launch. And Evelyn was more than a little grateful Donald wasn’t there. While she knew she could work with Donald, it would upset Owen. They hadn’t been seeing all that much of each other because of her long hours. At least Owen understood. Since he worked twenty-four-hour shifts, he wasn’t sitting around waiting for her. She’d dated some guys who’d call repeatedly wondering when she’d be off work. Not Owen. He called and texted to check in and talk about their days. More often than not, when he was off, she spent the night at his house so they had some time together.

  Unfortunately today, working with Donald was unavoidable. Marilyn was coming to the studio for a run-through audition. Then they were meeting to lay out the first few weeks of episodes.

  It was really happening. She was going to air the first show she developed from the ground up. In the studio, they were using Marilyn’s audition as a test run for the crew. She needed to see if the people they hired were a good fit both for the show and with one another.

  Donald volunteered to be interviewed by Marilyn, so once the lights were set and the cameras ready, they started.

  “Hi, Donald. It’s so nice to have you here today. For those in our audience who don’t know who you are, can you tell us a little about yourself?”

  “I’m your boss, one of the executive producers of the show.”

  In Marilyn’s ear, Evelyn said, “Don’t let him rattle you. It’s a test. Ask him something personal.”

  “What is something you’re passionate about? What really gets your motor revved?”

  Some of the crew snickered, and even Evelyn couldn’t stop her laugh. With anyone else, the question probably would’ve been fine, but this was Donald.

  “Success. Everything I do, every move I make, is designed to ensure I achieve the success I’m after.”

  “That’s great in business, but what about your personal life?”

  “It holds true in my private life as well. It’s all about perspective. If I deem success to mean getting the girl, then I do everything in my power to make that happen.”

  Marilyn fanned herself. “Woof. Talk about being an alpha. What do you do when the woman wants no part of this definition of success?”

  “That almost never happens. But I can respect what a woman wants. And if it’s not me, I change my definition of success.”

  He stared into the camera and Evelyn felt it as if he were talking to her. She blinked to break the spell. She knew Donald had that effect on people. She’d witnessed him use that charm to get everything he wanted and to talk himself out of whatever jam he’d gotten into. It was a special kind of skill set.

  She’d take Owen’s straightforward attitude any day.

  The director yelled, “Cut!”

  Marilyn leaned over and shook Donald’s hand. “Thank you for that. I hope I didn’t come across as too nervous.” She pointed to the lights and camera. “It’s a lot to take in.”

  Evelyn left the control room and made it to the stage, which was still under construction and design. “You did a great job. Don’t play coy. You’ve been in front of cameras before.”

  “On the other end of the couch, sure. It’s different when it’s up to me to keep the conversation going. He didn’t make it easy with his short responses.”

  “You did fine. With any other guest, we’d have a bio and questions prepared ahead of time. This was just about getting a feel for your stage presence.”

  They shared a quick hug, and Evelyn told her she’d call soon with news. Then Donald put his hand on her lower back and said, “Marcus is in the conference room. Let’s talk.”

  Evelyn took a quick extra step to get out of his reach. She wouldn’t go so far as to swat his hand away—she didn’t need the gossip—but she didn’t want him thinking it was okay to constantly touch her, either.

  When they got to the conference room, Marcus was on a call, so they took a seat and waited.

  “What did you think of Marilyn?” she asked.

  “How much did you feed her through the earpiece?”

  “Nothing. Other than to point out you were just being difficult to test her. I played fair.”

  He pursed his lips and tilted his head. “I taught you better than that. But if that’s the case, you have a good eye.”

  Marcus finished his call. “Her instincts are better than good. I’ve whispered about the show to a few people, and it’s already generating buzz.”

  “Without a name?” As far as she knew, the show was still untitled.

  “We’re going with Chi-talk Live. We’ve gotten enough feedback to let us know people react to the name and recognize it as something different. I want to start within two weeks, so let’s talk details.”

  “Does that mean Marilyn is hired?”

  “My assistant has already sent her the contract.”

  “Then why did she need to audition?” Evelyn looked at both men.

  “We needed to see if she could hold her own in front of a camera. She’ll get some practice in and smooth her edges out, but she did well. Let’s talk about the first episodes.”

  Evelyn pulled out her portfolio. “I know I sent you a list of ideas, but I have something new to add to the list. A five-part series on a youth center in Chicago.” She removed the page and handed a copy to Marcus and one to Donald.

  Donald barely glanced at it. “Evie, this is nothing like what you pitched.”

  She didn’t grind her teeth at the nickname that he wouldn’t stop using, but she was completely confused. “This is perfect. The center has a huge, positive impact on the neighborhood and the families who live there.”

  He took a deep breath. “How can I put this delicately?” He looked to Marcus, who was still reading her notes, and then back at her. “These kids are a reminder of the downtrodden in society. We’re supposed to be lighthearted and happy.”

  “But—”

  Marcus looked up. “He has a point, Evelyn. I’m not saying we can never do something like this, but for the opening weeks, we need to nail it. We have to keep the audience laughing and coming back for more. If we start pulling on heartstrings, it’ll be a tougher sell.”

  Evelyn’s heart sank. At least it wasn’t a no. It was a not-right-now. In a few months, or next season, she’d definitely be a
ble to slide in at least a few segments for Owen and his kids.

  Without any further discussion from Evelyn, Marcus continued. “We’ve gone through the list you originally provided and have pulled the topics and guests we think will draw the biggest market share. I’ve emailed it to you, so you can start lining up the guests. Any other questions?”

  “Based on my contract and the conversations we’ve had so far, I was under the impression I would have some freedom to develop the episodes.”

  “And you will. My hand stays in the pot until we get the formula right. Once we get our format and brand down, you’ll mostly be on your own.”

  She smiled. Owen had nothing to worry about. His center would get the spotlight. It was just going to take a little time.

  …

  Owen got off shift and hoped Evelyn would still be at home when he got there. Home. He liked the idea of his house being hers. Unfortunately, she was already gone. Judging by the lack of coffee in the kitchen, she’d been gone for hours. When she got up not long before he got home, she normally would leave the pot on for him. She had left a note on the fridge, though.

  Auditions and meetings all day in the studio. It’s real! I might be late. Love, E

  Setting up a new show was a lot of work. He’d seen the emails and spreadsheets and notes she’d been dealing with for weeks now. But she was happy. She was happier than he’d seen her in a long time, so he couldn’t complain. And she never bitched about his hours. She might be the perfect woman. It was just another reminder of how well they fit into each other’s lives.

  He walked Probie and then took a nap. Later, he swung by the youth center and talked to Sandra about Evelyn giving them a spot on her new show. While he was there, he played a pickup game of basketball with the high school boys. He’d hoped to be able to get them new uniforms this year, but with the pitiful results of the fund-raiser, he doubted it would happen.

  At home, he made tacos for dinner. Evelyn had texted to say she was on her way over. She arrived as he pulled food off the stove.

  “How was your day?”

  “So good. Marilyn’s audition was excellent. As it turns out, it was just a test to make sure she could handle being in front of the camera and could shoot from the hip. I thought they’d want to bring in other possible hosts, but she’s hired if they agree on contract terms. Since it’s not about the money for Marilyn, I’m pretty sure she’s going to sign. How about your day?”

  “I napped. I went to the center. Sandra is thrilled with the idea of you doing segments on the center. Let her know what you need.” He set food on the table.

  Evelyn lost the sparkle she came in with. She shifted awkwardly. “About that.”

  “What?” He sat and pointed at the chair across from him and handed her a plate.

  “I presented the segment ideas to Marcus and Donald.”

  Although he wanted to make a face when she said Donald’s name, he didn’t actually do it. Point for me.

  “They shot me down.”

  “Why would they do that? I thought it was your show.”

  “They don’t think it’s feel-good or lighthearted enough for the first episodes.” She dragged her chair closer to him and took his hand. “Next season, I’ll be able to do it for sure.”

  “Next season? We need funding now. The budget has shrunk. People haven’t donated. I was hoping that those segments would bring people out.”

  “I know. But Marcus and Donald have the money, so they have final decision. Once we have the groundwork laid and have built an audience, I’ll have more freedom.”

  He slid his hand away. “Did you tell Donald this was important to me?”

  She shrank back. “This has nothing to do with you. Or us. It was a business decision.”

  “I’d like to believe that, but when it comes to you, little with Donald seems to be only business.” He pushed away from the table, his appetite gone.

  While it wasn’t Evelyn’s job to save the youth center, she’d gotten his hopes up. Knowing that it was Donald who didn’t want the segments to air made it feel personal. He needed air to clear his head. “I’m taking Probie for a walk.”

  He left without waiting for a response from Evelyn. The temperature was dipping as the full force of fall hit Chicago. The leaves were turning, falling, and blowing across the sidewalks. When he got back to the house, Evelyn was sitting on his front steps. He released Probie’s leash, and the dog ran straight to her.

  “Do you want me to go home?”

  “No,” he answered. “I know I shouldn’t be mad at you. Right now, it feels like you took Donald’s side and that bugs me. This was really important, and he took it away. You let him. And before you give me that look, I know it’s irrational.”

  “I feel bad about making an offer I can’t uphold. Yet. I want to do the segments. I will do them.” She took his hand. “In the meantime, I talked with Marilyn while you were gone. In addition to being the host of my new show, she is a world-class fund-raiser. She sits on the board of many foundations and stuff. She’s always running something.”

  He walked toward the door, still holding her hand. “Are you going somewhere with this?”

  “Marilyn is going to help the center. She said she’d put something together within the next month or so. The people she knows have deep pockets. It might not solve all the budget problems, but it’ll be a start.”

  He held the door open for her, speechless.

  “I know how important the center is to you. I didn’t think Marcus would tell me no. Getting Marilyn involved is my way of saying I’m sorry for making a promise I can’t keep right now.”

  He pulled her into his arms. “Have I told you how amazing you are?”

  “It’s been a while. Like at least twenty-four hours. Maybe you should show me.”

  “I’m sorry I got mad. It was mostly disappointment. I appreciate anything you can do for the center.” He lowered his mouth to hers.

  “If it’s important to you, it’s important to me. We’re a team, right?”

  He loved hearing her say that. “Absolutely.”

  Chapter Nine

  Owen had been picking up extra shifts to earn more money that he could donate to the youth center. He’d been carrying extra weight for days. He said he didn’t blame her, but Evelyn felt guilty. She wanted to do more for him. Especially since he’d made the news—well, not him, but the fire he’d been fighting.

  She’d ordered dinner in, had already taken Probie on an extended walk, and had one of Owen’s favorite black-and-white movies queued up on the TV. Tonight was going to be just about him. When he walked through the door, he looked worn out. The extra hours were taking a toll on him. Today’s fire added to that burden.

  “Hey,” he said as he kicked off his shoes. “What’re you doing here? Thought you’d be working.”

  Another pang of guilt struck. She had been working a lot. Trying to get the show up and running was no simple task.

  Before she had a chance to answer, he said, “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I know you’ve been busy.” He hefted a sigh. “I’m not going to be very good company tonight.” He dropped his bag and jacket on the chair.

  “I wanted to see you.” No. She needed to see him. When he stared at her, she continued, “The fire made the news, and I saw your truck on the scene. I knew you were working, but I didn’t see you.”

  “You shouldn’t watch things like that.”

  “I don’t. Usually. But I was at the station and it came up on a screen in the background and I couldn’t not look. How are you?” she asked softly.

  “I’m fine. Just tired.”

  She sighed instead of saying, “Don’t be stupid.” She couldn’t imagine how he’d be fine. Two kids had died in the fire. He was probably beating himself up for not finding them in time. It didn’t matter that they had rescued twenty other people.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” As he walked past her, he kissed her head and kept moving.

&nbs
p; “What can I do?” she asked.

  “Nothing. Just go home. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  He headed toward the bedroom, and she sat for a minute. Sometimes, he was hard to read. Hell, most of the time he was. She wanted to help him, but he closed off. It looked like this was going to be one of those times she would have to push up against him, so she followed.

  She stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “You don’t get to push me away. I wouldn’t let you do it when we were friends. I’m not going to let you do it now. Talk to me.”

  He was at the dresser, head down, hands fisted. “I can’t.”

  She stepped closer and placed a tentative hand on his back. His muscles quivered beneath her touch. He rarely talked about his job and what he did. Sure, he was always quick with a funny story, but not the tough stuff. Not the calls that got to him.

  Those he bottled up.

  Evelyn knew he did it, but it wasn’t until right now that she realized how hard that was. She stroked his back. His muscles bunched and flexed in response.

  “You always take care of me. Everyone, really. Let me take care of you for a change.” When her hand touched his side, he winced. He’d been hurt. “What happened?”

  He straightened and shoved away from the dresser. “Not now, Evelyn. I can’t.”

  When she looked into his eyes, she saw his torment. She tugged at his shirt and pulled it over his head. Sure enough, a bruise bigger than the span of her hand bloomed on his side. She leaned forward and kissed his chest. He trembled.

  “Let me make you feel better,” she whispered against his skin. If he wouldn’t use words, she’d let him use his body.

  He released a rough sigh. Then he gripped her upper arms and pushed her away. “I can’t. Not like this. I—”

  She saw it then. He was on edge, barely holding on to the tight control that he used to get through life. “You don’t scare me, Owen. I know you won’t hurt me. Use me to feel better. I’ll give you anything you need.”

  The rapid rise and fall of his chest was the only indication that he’d heard her, that she was having any effect on him whatsoever.