One More Time

by Laurelin Paige

  “Firstly,” she says, “I understand how you feel. And thank you for staying and telling me. But here is the part you don’t know—Walter came over last night so we could hang out, watch your amazing performance on SNL, and chat about our boyfriends. And then we fell asleep.”

  My heart starts racing all over again. “Okay, right, after ‘chatting’ about your boyf...wait. Boyfriends? As in both of you have boyfriends?”

  I whip my head around to look at Walter again. He is cheerfully making cappuccinos on Jenna’s espresso machine. There are three mugs in front of him, and two of them are pink, as is the elaborate kimono he’s donned.

  He looks over, catches my eye and gives me an exaggerated wink.

  Oh.

  Oh.

  “I…” The storm of emotion drains from my body, leaving me tired, embarrassed, and stuttering. Not to mention relieved. “But you have to admit that was really confusing…”

  “Yes. It was. You’re right. And I would have told you what to expect if I’d been expecting you this morning.”

  I can feel my ears turning pink. “I wanted to surprise you, and it backfired just a tad.”

  “Just a tad,” Walter says, setting down fresh coffee in front of me and a tea in front of Jenna. “But let me tell you, as someone who’s hated you since I met her, I’m pretty jazzed to see how passionate you are about her now.” The arched brow and little shimmy he gives leaves me no doubt that Jenna has described our passion in great detail to him.

  “Can we start over?” I ask.

  “Nope.”

  And my heart falls into my stomach.

  “Because you were right about a lot of things you said when you thought Walter and I had sex. And we need to address that. We probably should have done it a week ago.”

  With that, Walter tastefully melts into the living room with his coffee.

  “Most importantly, I’m sorry. I’ve owed you this apology for a very long time, and this seems like the right time for it. I’m sorry for running away from you ten years ago. It was wrong and shortsighted and stubborn. When I thought you were gone, it was really scary to wonder if you’d ever come back. It’s easy to assume, and really hard to swallow your pride and actually talk to someone.”

  She’s tearing up, and holds up a finger to save her place while she heads to the bathroom to blow her nose. I get up and frantically gesture to Walter, and have to just hope he understands me because she isn’t gone long.

  When she’s back in the room, Jenna opens her mouth to continue, but I cut her off. “Can I have the speaking stick back?”

  “Sure. We don’t have a stick, though.”

  “How about I use your hand, then?”

  I reach down and take her hand in my own. Her smooth skin gives me an instant sense of calm. This morning might have started on a really sour note, but in a strange way it’s actually been a great thing to happen. We’ve both proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that although we still fit as well as we did ten years ago, we’ve also grown up in all the ways that count.

  The next time we are tested—and in Hollywood, we will be—I know we’ll come to each other first.

  So there’s nothing that feels more appropriate now than to finish exactly what I started last night before the show.

  “I’m sorry about today, too,” I tell her, rubbing my thumb along the back of her hand. “I should have handled it better. But I’m mostly sorry that I didn’t make it clear how important you were to me ten years ago. Instead of letting you go so that you could make your dreams come true without me in the way, I should have found a way to make your dreams come true with me. I wasted a lot of time not having you in my life. And I don’t want to make that mistake again.”

  She’s tearing up again, and this time I make no effort at all to hide the fact that my eyes are also shining.

  “You have made me happier over the past three months than I have been in the ten years since we’ve been apart. I was an idiot for suggesting we take it slow. I don’t want to spend another day without you in my life.” I use my free hand to reach into my pocket, whip out the Tiffany ring box and fall to one knee. “Jenna Stahl, I love you, and I will always love you. Will you please marry me?”

  She’s in my arms before that final word comes out of my mouth.

  “Yes, yes, yes!” she sobs over and over again, laughing at the same time.

  I hold her tight, closing my eyes in silent thanks.

  When I open them again, I see Walter had understood exactly what I was asking. He holds up his phone, where he’s captured the entire proposal, and then bursts into sobs louder than Jenna’s and joins us for a hug. I pat him awkwardly. I’m excited to get to know Jenna’s best friend, but normally I only like one person in lingerie crying on me at a time.

  “I’m going to design you the most beautiful wedding dress the world has ever seen,” Walter sniffles as Jenna shifts from crying to staring at her brand new ring. “And then I’ll design myself the most beautiful man of honor suit Roger has ever seen.”

  I stare at him, confused, and his eyes fly open wide.

  “Oh! You might want to be alone for a few moments before we start the fittings…” he says, and I nod gratefully.

  “It is absolutely perfect,” Jenna tells me, too absorbed in her new jewelry to even notice Walter close the front door behind him. “Is it…?

  “It is. The Audrey. The perfect ring for my perfect girl,” I say, then, once again, I pull her into my arms, and we start living the rest of time together.

  Epilogue

  Jenna

  “Are you ready?”

  We’re sitting in the back of the Escalade, seconds away from walking down the red carpet for the premiere of Reason To Love. Tanner is beside me in his crisp, black W. Harris tux. He’s never looked hotter. And from the look on his face every time his eyes land on me, Walter must have outdone himself on me, too.

  I’m wearing red.

  “Is anyone ever truly ready for this?” I ask, looking out at the pandemonium that awaits. After tonight, my movie is officially out in the world.

  Our movie.

  I nervously touch my chignon that Walter instructed my stylist to do as an homage to Audrey.

  My career is not quite at Hepburn level yet, but I have received three movie offers since Reason To Love finished filming. There’s a psychological thriller I’m really excited about, and a girl’s-trip movie that should be a lot of fun. But my favorite upcoming project is another romantic comedy co-starring none other than Tanner James.

  Apparently critics love us on the big screen together.

  I can’t say I blame them. We’re my favorite couple, too.

  But there are still butterflies in my stomach tonight. This is my first real premiere, the first red carpet I’m walking for my film, not just on Tanner’s arm, like the old days. I take a deep breath, and glance down at my ring, a tangible symbol of the love that we share. With this on my finger, and him at my side, I’m ready for anything the world can throw at me.

  We step out of the car and the screams of the fans packed outside the ropes reach a fever pitch. The butterflies in my stomach are doing back flips. Tanner can tell. He reaches over and grabs my hand.

  “I won’t leave your side,” he promises. And I know he means it.

  Outside the car, fans are screaming both our names. Jenna! Tanner! We love Janner! It’s overwhelming and amazing at the same time. For so long that celebrity pet name Janner made me cringe, but now it represents where we are today, not where we were back then.

  Out of the corner of my eye I catch Angela standing next to the publicist from the film. She gives a mincing little wave, and I give a giant one back. It’s easy to bitch about the way she tried to manipulate Tanner and I, but in the end, getting together was the right thing to do, and not just for the box office receipts.

  Up ahead we see Polly finishing up an interview with the team at Film Week magazine. I hear them ask her some questions about the script, the set, t
he cinematography. It would be lovely if that was the kind of thing we get asked too, but I know better. No one wants to discuss role prep or comedic timing with Hollywood’s newest It couple.

  “Tanner? Jenna? Are we ready for interview number one?” I hear a young girl in a headset ask.

  “You bet,” Tanner replies.

  “Perfect,” she says. “We’ll start with the team from TMI.”

  My stomach sinks. The irony would be hysterical if it wasn’t so terrifying. Of course the very first interview Tanner and I are forced to do on the movie that brought us back together is with the outlet that tore us apart. I wish I could think of this as sweet justice – we survived despite their best efforts – but I’m too nervous.

  Tanner squeezes my hand, sensing my unease.

  “Don’t worry,” he says, “I’ll do the talking.”

  We both step up into the section reserved for the TMI reporter, a perky blonde wearing a teeny, tiny cocktail dress and six inch heels.

  “Hey you two,” she says, “I’m Tina and I cannot wait to ask you a few questions.”

  “Jenna. I’ll start with you,” Tina says, “What is it like to be back with the man who broke your heart a decade ago?”

  It’s an intense question, on purpose. I can see the excitement in Tina’s eyes as my body freezes. She knows she’s got me, which was exactly her intention. But New Jenna isn’t about to let this intimidate her.

  I stare her down until she blinks nervously and moves on.

  “How did he propose? And when’s the big day? Everyone wants to know.”

  I keep staring silently, and Tina from TMI is starting to look like she would rather be anywhere else.

  Finally, Tanner steps in. “Everything you get from us will be on the screen tonight. The rest of our story belongs to us.”

  God, I love him.

  We step off the TMI platform and back into the red carpet fray. The rest is a total blur. We’re asked a million questions about our wedding plans, but Tanner’s response is all they’ll get from us. Our story is ours.

  And then, finally, we find our way to our seats. There’s a little box of popcorn with our faces on it waiting at our seat, a cute touch from the sweet marketing department. Carrie is sitting a few rows behind me, snapping pictures of the popcorn containers, no doubt for me to share on social media tomorrow. Polly is on the other side of Tanner, looking stunning and giving us a thumbs up. I’m sitting dead center, directly next to my co-star and fiancé.

  I see a flicker of light flash on the velvet fabric of the seatback in front of me. It’s the light from the chandeliers catching on my engagement ring. I look down at it and smile, like I do every time I think about what the future holds for me and the love of my life.

  There’s the secret vineyard wedding we have planned for next month, and the month-long honeymoon to Bali that will follow. My mind wanders to what will happen once we’re back in Los Angeles, as husband and wife. Maybe we’ll move to Malibu like we’ve been talking about, where Tanner can surf every morning and I can find a new Hot Pilates class. Maybe we’ll adopt a puppy and name him something that will remind us of those amazing months on set in Vancouver. Maybe we’ll start trying for a baby.

  Our future is a blank book, just waiting for us to fill with love and adventure.

  The lights dim in the theater. The crowd cheers. Camera lights flash as the paparazzi try to steal one more shot of Tanner and me taking in this incredible moment.

  Suddenly I understand why everyone is so fascinated with my life – our life.

  It’s perfect.

  The End

  Don’t miss the FREE story in my newsletter, SWEET LIAR, starting end of May 2018, one chapter a month. Available to subscribers only.

  British ad exec, Dylan Locke, isn’t looking for love. He isn’t looking for fate. He’s definitely not looking for the pretty, young, romantic Audrey Lind.

  But when the girl, who’s twenty years younger than him, literally lands in his lap and asks for his expertise, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interested.

  Book one in the next duet in the Dirty Universe will be delivered a chapter a month to your inbox starting late May 2018. Sign up for my newsletter now so you don’t miss out!

  Dirty Sexy Player

  (Dirty Games #1)

  Weston King knows how to play.

  But wild nights and owning an extensive collection of women's panties don't carry the thrill they once did, so when his business partner Donovan suggests an outrageous plan to allow them to take over their competition, Wes takes him up on the offer. The crazy idea? Marry the competitor.

  Elizabeth Dyson, the bride-to-be in question, is on board with the plan. She wants access to her trust fund and can only get it once she marries. Each has something the other wants - all they have to do is pretend to like each other well enough to tie the knot.

  Only trouble is, playing fiancé to Elizabeth isn't quite that simple. Wes finds her sexy and brilliant...and soon wishes their engagement wasn't fake at all. Not that he'd ever tell her that.

  But a lover boy like Wes can only stand an empty bed for so long...and even the best of players has to put down his cards eventually.

  Enjoy a sneak peek from Dirty Sexy Player now!

  * * *

  ONE

  Weston

  "Nice rock," I said, admiring the diamond ring Donovan placed on the tabletop. I picked it up and examined the stone in the dimly lit lounge of the The Grand Havana Room, the member’s-only cigar lounge we often frequented when we were together. The diamond was a big one, in a platinum setting with at least four carats between the large center jewel and the scattering of smaller diamonds surrounding it. A serious engagement ring. I wouldn’t expect anything less from one of the world’s most successful young billionaires.

  I just had no idea Donovan was even dating anyone.

  Of course, we weren’t as close as we used to be. Physically, anyway. He’d been managing the Tokyo office with Cade since we’d expanded our advertising firm into that market. He rarely made it stateside, and it had been nearly a year since I’d last seen Donovan in person. When he’d shown up tonight unexpectedly asking Nate and I to meet him at the club, we’d guessed he had serious news but that it was about the business.

  An engagement ring was a whole new level of serious. No wonder he wanted to do this in person.

  "Who's the lucky girl?" I asked, trying not to sound bothered that this was the first I was hearing about her. A glance at Nate said it was the first he was hearing about her too.

  "You're asking the wrong question," Donovan said, and bit off the end of his cigar. "The question is who's the lucky guy?"

  I raised a brow, confused. But not surprised. Donovan was known to speak in riddles. I’d figure out what he was trying to tell me when he was ready to spill. Might as well play along in the meantime.

  "Okay.” I pinched the ring between two fingers and lifted it toward the nearest light source so I could see the full effect of its sparkle. "Who's the lucky guy?"

  He lit the end of his cigar and puffed a couple of times before taking it out and answering. "You."

  "Oh, Donovan. You shouldn't have.” I clutched my hand to my chest for dramatic effect. “I don’t know that we’ve ever said it, but I love you too. Still, I don't think I'm ready for this." I handed the ring back to him with a shake of my head.

  Nate hid his smirk by taking a large swig of his imported beer.

  "Very funny." Donovan carefully placed the ring back in its box. "I'm not proposing to you, Weston. I’m proposing for you."

  "You are, are you?" I chuckled at his attempt at a joke. Inside my jacket pocket my phone buzzed with a text. I pulled it out and quickly skimmed the message.

  I need to see you.

  Normally I’d be all up for a booty call, but my night belonged to the guys. I deleted the message without reading who it was from, silenced my phone and put it back in my pocket.

  I gave my attention back t
o Donovan, continuing to play along with his hoax. "Just who exactly are you proposing to for me?"

  He puffed heavily on his cigar before removing it from his mouth to speak. "Her name is Elizabeth Dyson. She’s the sole inheritor of the Dyson Empire. She's twenty-five, classy though spirited, well-bred—definitely a suitable bride. Your union is going to take our business to the next level. Once you marry her, Reach, Inc. will be the biggest advertising company in Europe."

  All humor drained from my face. He was serious. Donovan never joked about business. But marriage? "You've got to be kidding me."

  “Not even a little bit."

  I was beginning to regret not looking at the name before I deleted that text. I’d have loved to have a reason to bail right about then.

  But it was Donovan's first night back in town, I really couldn't leave him now. Not to mention, I knew him. Once he got an idea in his head, it was nearly impossible to get it out. My best chance was to listen, find the weakness in his scheme, and then propose an alternate strategy.

  If that failed, I’d tell him fuck, no, and that would be that.

  Hopefully.

  Saying fuck, no to Donovan Kincaid was often a bit harder in reality than it seemed in theory.

  If I was going to stay, I was at least going to need a stiffer drink. I signaled the waiter. "Can you bring me a shot of Fireball?" Nate nudged me. "Two shots of Fireball?"

  Then I turned to Donovan. "You’d better explain this from the beginning.”

  He took a puff of his cigar. "It's a short explanation. Dell Dyson, founder, CEO, and majority shareholder of Dyson Media—basically France’s version of Time Warner—died about eight months ago, leaving his daughter the sole inheritor to the bulk of his fortune. However, the will states she can’t get her hands on any of it until she’s 29—with one exception.”