Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

GEMMA

It’s Monday morning, and I’m in my office. My boss pokes her pretty face in the door. “Hi, Gemma. I didn’t think I’d see you today. I thought you were traveling?”

“There was a weather system coming in, so I left a day early. I got back into town last night.”

She scoffs. “And you still came to work?”

“If I have no good reason to fall behind, then why bother?”

“Hmm. I suppose that’s why you’re one of my top ten favorite employees.”

I raise an eyebrow at her, and she giggles. There are only ten people working in this small law practice.

Darian Lawrence Knight is the best boss a girl could ever hope for. She’s semi-retired and only comes into the office one or two days a week. After training me in corporate law, she turned over the reins to me and pays me accordingly. I’m more than grateful for this situation. Most of my law school friends are miserable or struggling to work their way to the top, with terrible bosses who ride their asses all day and night. Not me. I’ve got a great job that I love.

I sarcastically reply, “So thrilled I made the cut.”

“Just barely. How was the signing?”

“It was great, thanks for asking.”

She clutches her chest. “I just finished your new release. Oh, Gemma, it’s your best book yet. I cried, I laughed, I swooned.” She gives me a cheeky smile. “Jackson also says thank you.”

I let out a laugh. “I don’t think you two need any help in that department.”

Despite being around fifty, Darian and her husband are very… active . Even in her office sometimes. It’s the source of many jokes around here, though we’re all a little jealous of the passion they share.

Darian was widowed in her mid-forties. The other people in this office say she had a rough few years after her husband passed, but then she met Jackson and things took a turn for the better. I only know her with Jackson. He’s madly in love with her. Fairytale love. I may have based a few book characters on the two of them. They’re like a romance novel come to life. In fact, maybe I should write their story. It would be a great book.

She winks. “What are you working on today?”

“The Henley contracts.”

Her face falls. “If you have to meet with him in person again, I want you to take someone with you.”

“Yeah, yeah. It wasn’t a big deal. You’re an attractive woman, Darian. I’m sure clients have hit on you in the past. Sadly, this situation isn’t news for women in the workplace.”

“Hit on me? Yes. But John Henley was more than hitting on you. He was completely out of line, Gemma. Nothing about the situation is acceptable. I wish you’d let me fire him as a client.”

She went nuts when I told her about John Henley’s constant sexual innuendos. They were truly over the top. I have a dirty sense of humor and can handle a lot, but it wasn’t the time or place, and it certainly wasn’t innocent fun. He was pushing to see if I’d bite on any of it .

I shake my head. “I’d rather hit him where it hurts. His pocketbook. It’s a lot of billable hours for us.”

“I don’t care about the money. I care about you. Never be alone with him. Am I understood?”

I nod. “Yes. I promise.”

“Jackson may have thrown him a little elbow at a fundraiser last week. He made it clear to John that he doesn’t do business with anyone who mistreats women. If that doesn’t set him straight, I want you to tell me right away. Zero tolerance. I let you talk me into giving him one more chance. It’s the only one.”

Jackson is one of the biggest developers in all of Philly. People fall all over themselves to do business with him.

“Yes, ma’am. How’s the fam?”

“Wonderful. Are you still planning to come to our house for Thanksgiving?”

“If you’ll have me. I don’t want to intrude.”

“We’re looking forward to it.” She lets out a laugh. “You look more like my daughter than two of my three girls.” She jokes, “Reagan demanded a DNA test when she met you.”

People often mistake us for mother and daughter, and even sometimes assume Darian is my older sister. I take it all as a compliment.

I shake my head. “Marian Fairchild is most definitely my mother. There’s no escaping it.”

She gives me a knowing smile. She’s met my mother.

I ask, “You’re okay that Val and CJ are coming, right?” My two best friends are family-less for Thanksgiving this year too.

“The more, the merrier. Don’t work too late, Gemma. Make sure you have some fun. You work too hard.”

“Said no other boss, ever.”

She lets out a laugh and repeats her often-stated mantra, “Happy employees are productive employees,” before heading back to her office.

“Andrew, I’m heading out to lunch.”

Our young, adorable front desk receptionist looks up at me. “Okay, mademoiselle. Where are you headed?”

“I’m meeting Taylor at Parc.”

“Yummy. I was just there with my man. Enjoy.”

I walk into the French-styled chic restaurant, Parc, and see my friend waving at me from her table. Taylor and I met in college and have been fairly close ever since. We went to law school together, but she chose to work for a big law firm in their family law department, and I chose a small corporate firm.

She’s in a white pantsuit, and her long blonde hair is styled in a fashionable ponytail. I smile as I approach. “Wow, you look gorgeous. That suit is amazing.”

She bats her eyelashes. “Thank you, and I know. I’m obsessed with this suit.” With a big dose of pride, she boasts, “I was in court this morning and wanted to kick a little ass.”

I gasp. “They’re finally letting you go to court?”

She hands me a glass of my favorite white wine as her big brown eyes sparkle with happiness. “Yes. About damn time. Vicious Victor finally let me off the leash. I need to get back to the office to debrief him, so I ordered for us already. I hope you don’t mind.”

Her boss, Victor, has been working her like a dog for years, barely giving her any real responsibility.

“Not at all. You know what I like.” I take a sip. “Yum. This is good. Tell me about your case.”

“Just an ugly divorce, nothing crazy. People get so petty. My client is the wife, and she makes a lot more money than he does. He refuses to contribute anything toward the kids, even though he makes a comfortable living. And then he tells the kids that they can’t do certain things they want to do because their mother won’t pay for it.”

I blow out a breath. “Ugh. What a dick. That’s so depressing. Why can’t people get it together for their kids?”

She takes a big gulp of her wine. “I know. It’s jading me on love. I’m terrified of it. And Victor is always telling me to never get married. I should switch departments, but I’ve put in more than four years already. I feel like I’d be starting over.”

“If you’re unhappy, make a change.”

She bites her lip. “Maybe. You hit the lottery with your boss. We’re not all that lucky.”

“I know. I’m very fortunate. She invited me to join her family for Thanksgiving.”

“That’s so nice. You know you’re always welcome to come with me to my family in Boston.”

“I appreciate the offer, but with my mother away and the office closed for a few days, it will give me some time to focus on my writing.”

“Oh right. How was your book thingy?”

And that’s what several of my friends and family call it. Book thingy or sex books . They don't understand why I decided to write, and I often feel judged. I try to explain that they’re love stories, because, at the end of the day, I’m a hopeless romantic, but they only see the lascivious side of things, and I’ve stopped bothering to explain it to them.

Taylor is more supportive than most. Though not a romance reader, she always buys my books just because they’re mine, and she gives them the wonderful five-star reviews that we indie authors crave, and I appreciate it. But she still doesn’t get it. I answer questions when asked but don’t otherwise bring it up anymore. I have my author friends to talk to about it.

“It was so much fun.”

“Is it a bunch of women in lingerie walking around looking for sex books?”

I spit my drink in laughter. “Umm, no. No one is in lingerie. It’s no different from any other convention. Think about the Atlantic City boat show we went to a few years ago. That was boats and boat-related product companies with their own booths selling their products. This was authors selling their books and meeting romance readers. ”

She shrugs. “Don’t spoil the illusion. I imagine it as one big orgy.”

I smile as I shake my head. “Okay, sure. It’s one massive orgy with a bunch of hornballs groping each other.”

She grins. “Thanks for indulging me. It’s cool that you have this fun hobby. All I do is work. I fit in a date or two now and then, but I feel like all I do is try to please Victor.”

“Any interesting dates lately?”

She gasps. “Holy shit. That reminds me. I’ve been dying to tell you about one I had a few days ago. You’re going to want it for one of your books. It was a guy I met on Hinge, not Tinder.”

That’s code for it being an actual date, not just a booty call.

“The date was going well. I don’t like to put out on a first date if I’m genuinely interested, but after dinner, we were sitting in his car talking when he leaned over to kiss me.”

“Aww. That’s sweet.”

“Just wait. It gets good. So, my eyes are closed while we’re kissing, and he starts moaning. Loudly. Way more than normal for a kiss. I opened my eyes and saw his dick in his hand. He was jerking off while we kissed. On a first date.”

“He just took out his dick? You didn’t touch him or anything?”

“Other than my hands on the back of his neck, no. He jerked off during our first kiss as if it’s a totally normal thing to do.”

“That’s so weird. Where…umm…did it go? When he came.”

She leans over and whispers, “All over my fucking arm.”

I burst out laughing. “Oh my god. That’s classic. I’m definitely using that in a book.” I type a quick note in my phone to remind myself of this ridiculous story.

She smiles as she nods. “I thought you might.”

“How did you leave things with him? Hey, thanks for the arm of jizz. Text me later. ”

She giggles. “He just sent me a text when I was in court this morning about wanting to see me again…and some other dirty stuff. ”

She blushes, which is very unlike her. I think she’s into this guy.

“Did you respond?”

“No, I’m not good with the dirty banter. I need your help. You’re the sex author.”

“What did his last text say?”

“That he wants to see me again and can’t get my sexy body out of his mind.”

“Do you want to see him again?”

She bites her lip. “I think so. The dick thing was weird, but before that things were going really well. We have a lot in common and the chemistry was there.”

“Write back that you’ll think about it, but you’ll need to bring wipes this time.”

She scrunches her face. “Eww. I don’t know if I can say that.”

“Do it. Trust me.”

She reluctantly pulls out her phone and types away. It pings seconds later with a response.

I stare at her as she reads it with a big smile. “What did he write?”

She looks back up at me. “That he’s sorry he did that, but he couldn’t help himself. That I’m so hot he needed to come. He simply couldn’t wait until he got home.”

“Write back that it was hot. That’s why you’re still wearing it.”

She giggles. “No way. I’m not writing that.”

I nod toward her phone and lift my eyebrow.

She sighs. “Ugh. Fine. You’re turning me into a ho.” She sends the text.

Again, her phone pings right away with a response.

After seeing her attempt to bite back a smile, I look at her in question. “Well? What did he write?”

“That the comment was so hot that he’s got his dick in his hand again. ”

I laugh. “Told ya so. I’m a dirty talk professional. I have a PhD in sordid thoughts and naughty words.”

“Thanks for your help. I miss your dirty mind. I wish we went out for more than just a monthly lunch.”

My face falls. She’s right. “I know. I get so absorbed in my writing. Nights and weekends are the only time I get to do it. I watch football and basketball with Val and CJ, but I haven’t otherwise been doing much. Let’s make time in the near future to go out.”

She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “I’d love that. Val and CJ monopolize all your free time.”

“You could always hang with the three of us.”

“Umm…no. The three of you have a weird relationship. I’d feel like a fifth wheel even though I’d technically be the fourth.”

I get that. Most people feel that way when hanging out with me and my forever besties.

She continues, “I’ll let my girls know you’re up for going out. They’d love to see you.”

Ugh. I adore Taylor, but her friends are a bit much for me at times. They’re obsessed with finding rich men. These are girls who went to college to get their M.R.S., as in trying to become a wife instead of caring about a real degree. They’re the kind of women who completely change who they are and are willing to drop everything because of the men they’re dating. I hate women like that.

It’s probably why I rarely hang out with them anymore. It’s all about the manhunt. And they’re so judgy about my writing. But I’m committed to being more social, so I halfheartedly agree.

I finish work and am at the bar a little early, waiting for Trey Donatucci to arrive. I speak into my phone, “Yes, Lubey Libby, I’m meeting with the plumber now. ”

She cheerfully asks, “What’s a plumber’s favorite casino game?”

“I don’t know. What?”

“Craps.”

I let out a laugh as I motion for the bartender to refill my vodka martini. I need a little more liquid courage for tonight. I have no idea what the hell I’m doing.

“That’s a terrible joke. But also funny.”

“This is so exciting, Gem. You’re the first of us to meet with a BBB client. Do you know what kind of book boyfriend you want him to be? A sweet cinnamon roll type, or an alpha dirty man? Roar .”

“Did you just claw at me even though I can’t see you?”

She giggles. “Yes. It’s so thrilling that we get to mold men. Well? Which is it?”

“Hmm. I think I need to get to know him first. I don’t want to make him into something he’s not. Don’t we simply want to help draw out the best in these guys? And teach them to better read women and their needs? I don’t think we should be helping men dupe women.”

I mouth, “Thank you,” to the waiter as he refills my drink.

“So…you won’t tell him to bend her over, spank her, and go straight to anal on the first date?”

I burst out laughing. “Oh my god. You’re terrible. Maybe I’ll just tell him the real secret to every woman’s heart and pants. We all want men with pierced cocks.” I sarcastically add, “I know I only sleep with men who have dick piercings. Everything else is bearable if they make us black out when we come.”

She moans. “Umm. That sounds like heaven.”

I moan too. “I know, and—”

My conversation is interrupted by a tap on the shoulder followed by a raspy, deep voice. “Excuse me.”

I turn around and am completely dumbfounded. Before me is the most objectively attractive man I’ve ever seen in my life. He’s tall and muscular, with dark hair and blue eyes. His face is full of sexy scruff, but it’s the chin dimple that truly catches my attention. Fuuuck . Is Santa filling my stocking early this year?

I actually blink a few times, thinking I might be dreaming about the man staring at me. Am I being pranked right now? I don’t see any cameras. Maybe my vibrator manifested this.

My mouth fills with saliva. I gulp it down before responding, “Can…can…I help you?”

He holds out his hand. “I’m Trey. Your…umm… client . I recognize you from your videos.”

“ You’re Trey Donatucci? My new client?” There’s no way.

He smiles sexily. “I am.”

The slovenly middle-aged man sitting next to me at the bar clears his throat, loud enough to gain my attention. Looking my body up and down, he licks his lips and says, “Oh, I didn’t realize you’re one of those kinds of girls. Can I get an appointment after him? I’d like to be a client too.” He air quotes the word client .

Before I can register the insult, Trey grabs the man by the shirt and pushes him against the bar. “This is a business meeting, asshole. Does she look like that type of woman?”

They both visibly take in my hunter-green designer Prada business suit. It’s one of my most conservative outfits. I’m even wearing a red Hermes scarf around my neck. Short of wearing a bonnet, I couldn’t possibly look any more conservative. There’s certainly nothing about me to suggest call girl .

Trey glares back at the guy, bringing his face within an inch of the man’s. He practically growls, yes growls, “Fucking apologize to her.”

Nope, my panties aren’t soaked right now.

The man, much smaller than Trey, looks scared to death. “I’m…I’m sorry, ma’am.”

I can only wordlessly nod. I breathe into the phone, “Later, Lib.”

She yells out, “No. I want to listen. That was so fucking h—”

I end the call and gain a little composure before glaring at the man at the bar. “Be careful how you speak to women and the assumptions you make. For example, I’m assuming right now that you’re not very well endowed and potentially suffer from a little premature ejaculation issue. But perhaps I’m wrong.”

I innocently smile and bat my eyelashes.

Trey lets out a laugh but hasn’t let go of him yet. The man still looks terrified. Frankly, I don’t care about the stranger or what he said. I’m focused on reining in the throb between my legs at this entire alpha display.

Realizing the situation needs to be defused, I quickly throw my bag over my shoulder, grab my drink, leave too much cash for the bartender, and slide off the stool. “Trey, let’s get a table so we can talk. I think there’s been some sort of misunderstanding between us.”

He nods as he releases the man, who breathes a sigh of relief.

Trey follows me as I flag down the hostess and secure a table as far away from the bar as possible. Trey is so close behind me that I can smell his delicious aftershave. It’s invading my senses. Who smells this good? What the hell is happening?

Wait. I think I just heard him inhale. Did he just smell me too?

We make our way to the back and sit across from one another at a small table. He exhales a deep breath while running his fingers through his hair. “I owe you an apology. He was being disrespectful to you, and I snapped. It’s completely out of character for me to act like that. I’m not a violent person. I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t scare you.”

I can’t help the small twinge of disappointment that I experience. And then I’m surprised I feel that way. I’ve never witnessed a fight, let alone one over me. It wasn’t really a fight. More like a strong man demoralizing a weak one. Well, I suppose I helped demoralize him too, but he was an asshole and deserved it.

I nonetheless force a smile. “It’s okay. You were well-intended. Why don’t we grab you a drink and start over? ”

And I need a minute to figure out what he’s doing here. I’m confused. This man doesn’t need my services.

He nods. “Thank you. I’d like that.”

He motions for the waitress, who appears immediately, which is not at all surprising for a guy like Trey. He orders a beer while I down a few large gulps of my vodka martini.

I take in his entire appearance. He’s in jeans that hug what appear to be extremely muscular thighs. His black sweater does little to disguise his broad chest and muscles. His hair is thick and wavy. He’s extremely tall. The whole package is perfection. He belongs on the cover of one of my books.

After he orders, he looks at me with his piercing blue eyes. “I’m going to assume your name isn’t Tami Maida. What’s your real name?”

I can’t help but smile. “I’ve been writing for nearly three years. You’re the first person to ever connect the dots on my pen name without me having to explain it to them.”

He smirks. “I have a sister. She must have watched the movie Quarterback Princess a thousand times when we were kids. It’s a classic. Did you know that it’s loosely based on a true story?”

Quarterback Princess is a movie about a girl, Tami Maida, who leads her high school’s football team as the star quarterback and is also the prom queen.

“Of course I do. I was the only girl on my high school’s football team. I was the kicker though, not the quarterback. Though I did get to play quarterback for two plays at the end of the season.” I mock blow my fingernails. “I don’t mean to brag, but I do have one completion for eighteen yards on my resumé.”

His eyes widen in shock. “Really? I wouldn’t have guessed that about you.”

“Why not?”

“Hmm. I’m not sure. You’re kind of…girly.”

I giggle. “They’re not mutually exclusive. You can be both.”

He humbly nods, knowing he’s been busted for judging this book by its cover. “I suppose you can. Lesson learned, though I’m going to assume you were also the prom queen. I know I’m not wrong about that one.”

The corners of my mouth raise in amusement. “I was. And my real name is Gemma Fairchild. I’m an attorney.”

He pinches his thick eyebrows together. “I thought that you’re an author?”

“Being an author doesn’t pay the bills. In fact, it adds to them. It’s more of a labor of love. A hobby.” I hold out my hand to shake his. “It’s nice to meet you, Trey Donatucci.”

He flinches for a brief moment before taking my hand in his enormous and calloused one. It occurs to me that I’ve never been touched by a man with calloused hands. It’s unexpectedly appealing and sexy as hell.

He continues to hold my hand in his. “That’s a pretty name for a pretty lady.”

I smile as I slowly, and begrudgingly, pull my hand away. “Thank you, but aren’t I supposed to be the one teaching you how to flirt properly? You seem pretty good at it already.”

He gives me a boyish grin before he rubs his scruff with his fingers. “I suppose you're right.” He makes a show of zipping his lips and throwing away the imaginary key. “Pretend I’m a blank canvas. Teach me, Master Gemma.”

I laugh as I pull out my notebook and pen, suddenly intrigued by this whole bizarre situation. “Why don’t we get to business? I read your application and know a little background from it…but tell me why a man like you reached out to me.”

His eyes are playful. “I think I wrote that on my application.”

“You did, and it was very clever. It certainly caught my eye. But what’s the real reason? You’re a…good-looking guy, Trey. I’m sure you don’t have trouble finding women.”

“I don’t want any woman. I want the right one.”

“What does the right one look like?”

He contemplates for a moment before answering, “One who doesn’t judge me for my job. ”

“Your job?” That’s interesting. “Being a plumber is a noble profession. But I’ve never had a plumber who looks like you.”

He looks like a porn plumber where the dirty housewife has her wicked way with him while he’s on his back, working under her kitchen sink.

Damn it. I need to stop watching so much porn.

He briefly looks away. I know that means he’s not being truthful. He’s searching for a lie right now.

Leaning back, I say, “This doesn’t work if you’re not honest with me. In the words of Thomas Jefferson, honesty is the first chapter in the book of wisdom . It’s a trait I value above all others.”

“I’ve never had a date quote Thomas Jefferson before.”

“This isn’t a date. It’s a business meeting.”

He holds his hands up. “You’re right. I’m sorry. This is as new to me as it is to you. It’s hard for me to articulate the right woman. I’m still figuring it out myself.”

“Fair enough, but this isn’t a matchmaking service. I want to make sure you realize that. I need you to be here for the right reasons, Trey.”

“My intentions are noble, I assure you. I’m just looking to understand you better.”

“Understand who better?”

He quickly corrects himself. “Women. I’m looking to understand women better. I saw your video, and everything about it was appealing to me. I’m here to learn from the expert.”

I hold up my left hand and wiggle my ringless ring finger. “I’m hardly an expert. I barely even date. My doctor asked me last week if there’s any chance that I’m pregnant. I responded that if I am, I’d be giving birth to batteries.”

He lets out a loud laugh. “Right, you’re a rom-com author. You’re funny.”

I smile. “I try. But in all seriousness, all I’m offering is to show you what women find so appealing about book boyfriends. There’s no magic formula. It’s up to you to decide which of those attributes makes sense for you. I’m not encouraging you to act in a way inconsistent with your own personality. We want an enhanced and enlightened Trey, not a deceitful Trey. Does that make sense?”

He nods. “I understand. How do we get started?”

“Tell me a little about yourself.”

He blows out a breath. “Well, I’m twenty-nine. I enjoy sports, especially football, and my job. I have an older sister who I’m close to, a niece who’s my favorite person in the world, and a baby nephew who’s just finding his voice. My parents divorced when we were teens. My sister and I relied on each other a lot.”

I nod in understanding. “Mine divorced when I was a teen too. It’s no walk in the park. You’re lucky you had a sister to rely on. It can be very lonely.”

“No siblings?”

I shake my head. “No, but I’m close with my grandmother. I spent a lot of time with her when I needed a break from the madness. Where do you live, Trey?”

“Umm, in the city.”

“Do you have many friends?”

He smiles. It’s the most genuine one he’s given me yet, and it’s adorable. “I do. I have a great group of friends. Most of them are still single too. We have fun together.”

“What’s your definition of fun?”

“Like I said, sports. Mostly hanging out with my crew. Going to clubs and bars. Nothing extraordinary. I travel a little when I can, but I’m just a normal twenty-nine-year-old guy.”

“I understand.”

I’m still unclear why a man like him needs help, but I decide to stay the course and see how this plays out. “Let’s talk book boyfriends. We’re cracking the code on what fictitious men have that real men don’t. For today, I just planned to get to know you a little bit and then educate you on some romance novel terminology. Are you familiar with the word trope ?”

“No. Should I be?”

“Not necessarily. I didn’t know it before I started writing. It’s a common theme that you see in a given book. An overarching concept. Romance books are known for having them. At some point, there were probably only a dozen or so, but it’s taken on a life of its own, and now there are hundreds. Romance readers are attracted to different tropes depending on their personalities, wants, and needs.”

He twists his lips. “I’m not following. Can you give me an example?”

“Sure. A very popular trope is enemies to lovers, where the couple starts off hating each other, and then that hateful passion morphs throughout the book into steamy, bedroom passion. It’s usually followed by a happily ever after.”

He scrunches his face. “I can’t imagine hating a woman and then magically falling in love with her. That’s weird.”

“Frankly, I feel the same. I’ve only written one book with that trope, and, between you and me, they weren’t true enemies. More like business competitors.”

He nods. “I can see that being hot. What are other examples of tropes?”

“Friends to lovers, billionaire, second chance, fake relationships, forbidden—”

“Forbidden? What does that mean?”

I shrug. “A bunch of different things. Sometimes it might be teacher/student or employer/employee, but it’s probably most often used in romances between stepsiblings or a stepdaughter and her stepfather.”

He makes a look of disgust. “Do you write those?”

I shake my head. “I don’t, but I respect those who do. I’ve read some, I just don’t write them. I keep things fairly lighthearted. I write the kind of men I’d like to date, and I’m okay with the fact that it may not be for everyone.”

“What does all this mean for me and your service? Do I have to pick a trope and become that guy?”

I let out a laugh. “No, not at all. I’m just creating awareness of all the different types of themes in these romance novels. Each woman is attracted to something different. For example, some like what is termed a cinnamon roll or golden retriever man.”

“What are those?”

“Sweet, supportive, kind book boyfriends.”

“All women don’t want that?”

“No, they don’t. Some want alpha or possessive men. Men who practically growl. Many women like that touch her and die vibe. Or the who hurt you vibe.”

His eyes meet mine. “Which kind do you like, Gemma?”

I feel my cheeks redden. “In all honesty, I think I’d like a bit of both. There are times for sweet and supportive and times I want a man who takes a little control and will fight for me.”

“Have you ever found one who is both? The whole package?”

Shaking my head, I admit, “I haven’t. Maybe he doesn’t exist.”

He calmly leans back in his chair. “Maybe you’ve been looking in the wrong places.”

Maybe he’s right.

We’re both silent for a few long beats as we sip our drinks.

Eventually, he asks, “What are other tropes?”

“There are hundreds of them. I swear, I see new ones pop up every single day. We could talk about tropes for hours. There are fake marriages, surprise pregnancies, secret babies, mistaken identity, forced proximity, age gaps, bodyguards, shared bed, kidnappers, stalkers, sports—”

He perks up at that. “There are sports romances?”

I nod. “Lots of them. Women get off on jocks.”

“Do you get off on jocks?”

I sigh. “We’re not here to talk about me. This isn’t a date.” Though I wouldn’t mind if it was. “I’m here to help you better understand women’s desires and needs.”

He takes another sip of his beer. It’s almost erotic how sexy it is when he swallows. His Adam’s apple slides up and then back down. He exudes confidence with his legs spread wide. He’s so…manly.

He licks the beer off his lower lip. “I think it would be helpful for me to get firsthand information. Obviously you’re not married. Are you seeing anyone?”

I shake my head. “Not currently.”

“Why didn’t it work out with your last boyfriend?”

I grimace.

His face falls. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Yes, you did, but it’s fine. Frankly, he wasn’t either a cinnamon roll or a possessive man.” I’ve never thought of it that way, but it’s true. “The biggest problem was that he wasn’t…supportive.”

“In what ways?”

“I’m a lawyer, and he works in finance. I think, on paper, we made a lot of sense, both being what we each thought we wanted in a partner. He didn’t love how brash I can be, and he struggled with my romance writing career. He was embarrassed by it. Embarrassed by me.”

Trey waves his hand dismissively. “Fuck him. I think it’s cool that you write books.”

“Thank you. It was more than just that. He didn’t give me…that something extra. He accused me of thinking the men in my books were real. And that’s, in part, why we started this business. We’re trying to help men figure out how to play into the fantasies of women. The small things that go a long way.”

“What was his trope?”

I smile. “Ooh, that’s a tough one. As I’ve spent the past few months thinking about it, I think he was the asshole ex that is often present in romance books. The one the female character didn’t realize was Mr. Wrong until after they broke up but feels like a fool for not seeing it earlier until she realizes it was part of the journey to finding Mr. Right.” I mumble, “At least I hope I’m on that journey. ”

He nods in understanding. “I’ve had a few Ms. Wrongs in my past too. How do I become the kind of boyfriend you want?”

“Different women want different things. Romance readers get fully engrossed in novels. They don’t slowly read our books. They don’t read a chapter a night for several weeks. They binge. Some read five or six books a week. Why do you think that is?”

He shrugs. “The sex scenes?”

I let out a laugh. “Maybe a little of that, but no, I don’t think that’s it. There are generally only five or six sex scenes in a full-length book. They’re a tiny percentage of the overall story. What they enjoy is the fantasy. A man who feeds into the dialogue of something they’re missing, something they want, or simply something that merely excites them.”

“Give me an example.”

I think for a moment. How can I best make this relatable to him? An idea occurs to me. “How about grand romantic gestures? Something huge and thoughtful that fictional men often do for their women. I know you don’t read romance novels, but have you seen romantic comedy movies?”

“Of course.”

“Isn’t there always some grand romantic gesture at the end of those movies? Richard Gere rides in with his head sticking out of his limo and climbs the fire escape for her in Pretty Woman , giving her the fairytale she once mentioned wanting. Harry runs through the entire city of New York on New Year’s Eve and interrupts a fancy party just to tell Sally he wants to spend his life with her in When Harry Met Sally . Nick boarded a plane and dropped down to one knee in front of everyone with his mother’s emerald ring in Crazy Rich Asians . In Hitch, he freakin’ jumps on top of a moving car at the end to spill his heart out to her.”

Trey nods. “I get it.” He whispers, more to himself than me, “Grand romantic gestures.”

“There are thousands of things like that. Something that makes a woman’s heart beat faster. Something that makes her feel seen, important, and cared for. In all honesty, Trey, what you did at the bar is something you might read in a romance novel and not see as much in real life.”

“What do you mean?”

“You got very protective of me. A lot of women would get off on that. Frankly, it was hot. I might write about it.”

He smirks with pride. “Really?” He mock straightens his shirt and holds his shoulders high. “I think I’m already learning to be a good book boyfriend just by being around you.”

I giggle. “Yes, you are.”

“By the way, Crazy Rich Asians is one of the funniest movies I’ve seen in a long time.”

I smile. “Agree. Did you know that it was a rom-com book first?”

“No, I didn’t. That’s cool. Will your books be movies?”

I let out a loud laugh. “I wish. That’s the dream of almost every author but the reality for very few.”

“Dream big, Gemma. That’s why I’m here. Nothing will stand in the way of me getting the woman I want.”

I swallow. “I’m sensing you have a particular woman in mind.”

He smiles. “I suppose you’re right.”

“What’s her name?”

For the first time, he looks a little flustered. Maybe he doesn’t want me to know.

“Umm…Jenna.”

“Okay. Tell me about Jenna.”

He has a dreamy look on his face. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. The second I laid eyes on her, I knew I wanted her to be mine. I can’t explain it. Her laugh. Her smile. She’s…she’s extraordinary. There’s something about her that immediately struck a chord in me. I’ve never felt that way about a woman before.”

“In the romance world, we call that insta-love.”

“Like love at first sight? ”

“Yes. It’s another trope. Tell me about your interactions with her.”

“I’ve only spoken to her once, but I really like what I’ve seen.”

“Why only once?”

“I don’t want to mess it up. I also only recently met her.”

“Does she know how you feel?”

He shakes his head. “No. I don’t want to scare her off.”

I slowly nod. “I guess it would be a risk. Some women might be into insta-love, but some might be frightened off by you coming on that strong.”

“That’s what I was thinking. I need to be careful so I don’t screw it up.”

“What does she know about you?”

“Pretty much everything I’ve told you.”

“What do you know about her?”

He bites back a smile. He’s clearly besotted with this lucky woman. I have a pang of jealousy over her.

“Besides being stunning, she’s funny, super smart, and kind of…uptown.”

“Do you have any clue as to what she’s looking for in a man?”

“I’m learning. Tell me some more things that romance readers like you want in a book boyfriend. Better yet, tell me things you don’t. That could be helpful in getting to…generally know women’s wants and needs.”

I twist my lips for a moment. “I think many women are attracted to book boyfriends who only have eyes for them. All others be damned. Men who love the female lead character and don’t care who knows it.”

“Like a public display of affection?”

“It’s more than that. It’s about unashamedly loving them. My ex didn’t like to kiss in public. He said it was because of my red lipstick. For some reason, that always bothered me. If a man loves you, why would he care about a little lipstick on his face? Shouldn’t he value kissing you over any small embarrassment that might cause?”

Trey nods as he stares at my lips. “I’d wear it proudly.”

We’re silent as he continues to stare.

What’s happening? Is it getting hot in here?

It’s time to end this. “I’ve given you a lot to consider. Why don’t you think about some of these things, and we can meet after you’ve had time to process them? Perhaps you can learn a bit more about Jenna and her needs. Like I said, I’m not here to play matchmaker, but I do want to bring out the best version of you.”

It’s actually sweet that he’s so besotted and wants to learn how to make this woman happy. Perhaps our arrangement will work out after all.

He nods. “I’d like that. I’ll reach out soon.”