Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

“So how was your blind date?” Maggie held out a Starbucks coffee cup and a bottle of Motrin.

There was a reason she was my best friend and head of marketing at Eternity Roses. “Are those both for me?”

She nodded. “I know you’re trying to cut back to one coffee a day. But I’m hoping you need it this morning because your date kept you up all night.”

“What are the Motrin for?”

Maggie smiled and brought her own coffee to her lips. “In case your head was banging against the headboard. I told you to get rid of that fancy wooden bedframe and get a cushioned one.”

I laughed and waved off the bottle. “I’m good. No banging headboard last night. Though I will take the coffee. Thank you.”

She twisted the cap off the Motrin and shook the bottle upside down. “Oh good. Because there are only two left, and my head’s killing me. There’s definitely no cushion on those stalls in the courthouse bathrooms.”

I stopped with my coffee halfway to my mouth. “You didn’t…”

She grinned. “Oh, but I did…twice.”

I chuckled. Maggie might’ve lost a little of her mind. For almost a year now, she’d been embroiled in a messy divorce. A few months ago, her soon-to-be ex-husband, Aaron, didn’t show up for a settlement conference at his lawyer’s office. Rather than reschedule, she decided to make good use of the time by seducing his attorney. Since then, she’d made it a sport to have sex with the guy in every inappropriate place possible. I was pretty sure he could be disbarred if anyone found out.

“Was Aaron at the courthouse?” I asked.

Her eyes sparkled. “Sure was.”

“What if he’d walked into the men’s room?”

“Then he could have watched—same as I got to do when I walked in on him and our neighbor.” She plopped down in the guest chair on the other side of my desk and sipped her coffee. “So your date was a dud, huh? I warned you that letting Frannie fix you up was not the best idea. Did he bore you to death over drinks?”

“Actually…drinks were the most exciting part of my date.”

“Oh? Delicious cocktails?”

I shook my head and grinned. “Nope. Delicious man who pretended to be my date before my real date showed up.”

Maggie’s eyes widened.

I laughed because it was nearly impossible to shock her these days.

“Tell me everything,” she said.

Over the next twenty minutes, I filled her in on meeting Max, almost walking out of the arena before finding him on the Jumbotron, and staying out until 2 AM talking. When I was done, she took out her cell.

“What’s his last name?”

“Yearwood, why?”

“Because I want to Google him and see exactly what we’re talking about here.”

She typed into her phone, and her eyes lit up. “Holy crap. He’s gorgeous.”

“I know.”

“When are we going out with him again?”

I chuckled at her use of we. “I gave him my number, but I actually don’t think I’m going to go out with him.”

“Are you crazy? Why not?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. It just feels…wrong.”

“Because of Gabriel? Who ran away to Europe to screw other women?”

“How am I supposed to get involved with someone when Gabriel is coming back at the end of the year?”

“You’re living apart, and he’s dating other women. If he comes back and you two want to be together, it was meant to be. Anything that changes your mind before then just proves you weren’t supposed to stay together. Take it from me, it’s easier to figure it out now than after you get married. For whatever reason, Gabriel needed this time, and he’s clearly taking it. So why shouldn’t you?” She shook her head. “What changed? You seemed okay with it before you went out on the blind date.”

I shrugged. “I guess it seemed safe and simple. The way Frannie described the guy, I sort of knew in my heart nothing would come of it.”

“And now?”

“Max seems…” I shook my head and tried to figure out what bothered me so much. I couldn’t put my finger on it. “I guess he just seems the opposite of safe and simple. Max seems risky and complicated.”

Maggie smiled. “Because you actually like him.”

“Maybe.” I shrugged. “I don’t know why the thought of going out with him makes me so nervous. I think I just don’t trust my own judgment anymore.”

“Perhaps it seemed easier when you knew you wouldn’t fall for the guy. You’d said you were going to put yourself out there, but you weren’t really planning on it. You were just going through the motions and biding time until Gabriel comes home.”

She leaned forward and rested her hands on my desk. “But honey, what if Gabriel doesn’t come home? Or what if he does, but he doesn’t want to pick up where you left off? I’m not trying to be mean. Really, I’m not. I like Gabriel, or at least I did until he pulled the crap he pulled before he left. But why should you waste more than a year of your life, when he’s not?”

I sighed. “I guess. But the other thing is, it’s not fair to the other person. I don’t know if I can give Max the same thing a truly single person could, you know?”

“You said you told him the deal between you and Gabriel? What was his response?”

“He asked if I was looking to get even or looking to see what else was out there.”

“And what did you say?”

“I was honest and said I wasn’t sure.”

“He was okay with that?”

I nodded. “He said he just wanted to know what he was in for.”

“You want to know what I would do?”

I tilted my head. “Probably not. You’re a little off your rocker these days.”

“True. But I’m going to tell you anyway. I think you should fuck his brains out—have an affair, or whatever you want to call it.”

I couldn’t say the idea of getting hot and sweaty with Max Yearwood didn’t appeal to me. In fact, the thought of it made my belly do a little dip. I was exhausted today because I hadn’t been able to fall asleep when I got home last night. Lust had coursed through my veins just imagining those big, blue eyes looking down at me. I bet his thighs were muscular from all that skating, too. He was just so big and broad—nothing like Gabriel, who had a lean, runner’s body. Again, I imagined what Max might look like naked. But I forced that thought from my mind with a few blinks.

When my eyes came into focus again, I found Maggie with the dirtiest grin.

“You were just imagining it, weren’t you?”

“No.” I answered waaay too fast.

She smirked. “Sure you weren’t. You know what I’m going to do?”

“What?”

“I’m going to get one of those little electronic scoreboards and hang it right over there.” She pointed to the wall opposite my desk. “Maybe if I tally how many times Gabriel bones someone and make it a competition, I’ll get the home team off the sidelines and back into the action. You’ll never be able to handle losing.”

While she was right that I liked to win, I wasn’t sure racking up numbers would make me feel like I was winning anything with Gabriel.

Luckily, our conversation was cut short before Maggie could delve deeper. My admin, Ellie, knocked on my office door and opened it.

“Mark Atkins has arrived for your ten o’clock meeting. He said he came early because he has a lot of prototypes to set up, so I put him in the conference room and told him I’d check on him in a bit.”

“Okay, great. Thank you, Ellie.”

I’d been working on a new product line with the vendor who made my vases. I thought it would be cool if people could keep their roses for a year and have them change colors. So we designed a vase with a removable bottom panel. Different interchangeable bottoms could be purchased that contained dye wells designed to infuse the stems of the roses with new color. After a few months with white roses, you could unscrew the bottom panel, insert a pink dye well, and twenty-four hours later, voilà: pink roses. It could be done a few times if you went from light colors to dark.

Maggie rubbed her hands together. “Today is turning out to be awesome already. You’re going to bang a hot hockey player, and we’re going to see your idea come to life.”

“I didn’t say I was going to see Max again.”

She winked and got up. “You didn’t have to. I’m going to go check if Mark needs help. You finish up your fantasy, and I’ll come get you when he’s ready.”

• • •

I’d missed two calls during the meeting today. The first was from Gabriel, who had left a voicemail. The second was Max, who hadn’t. I found myself a tad disappointed that it wasn’t the other way around. Nevertheless, I waited until I got home that night to press play and listen to Gabriel’s message.

“Hey, babe. Just checking in. I spoke to my publisher today, and he liked the early stuff I sent him on the book I’ve started working on. Of course, he liked the first one enough to buy two books and the first one flopped, so him liking it doesn’t actually mean much. But it’s better than him not liking it, I suppose. Anyway, we haven’t talked in a while, and I miss you. I’m sure you’re probably working late, busy kicking ass and taking names, but give me a call when you have time. Love you.”

I frowned and unzipped the back of my skirt, tossing it on the bed. After my trip to Paris, where I’d found out Gabriel had actually started dating and had slept with other women, I’d stopped being the one to initiate contact. Seems I didn’t feel like making all the effort anymore. So my every-other or every-third-day phone calls with Gabriel had dwindled to once a week or less. I wasn’t even sure if Gabriel had noticed the change. But so much bothered me about his message today. First, “I’m sure you’re probably working late…” It must be nice to assume that and not imagine I’m in bed with someone else. Because that’s certainly what had run through my head when I thought about him lately. And second, it irked me that he was calling to tell me good news about his publisher. We’d gotten engaged when he sold his book and separated when it flopped. It made me feel like the way I was treated depended on external circumstances. Is that how it would always be? The health of our relationship relying on his career successes and failures? How had I only realized this in hindsight?

Whatever. It was eight o’clock here, which meant it was one in the morning there, so I wasn’t going to call him back anyway. Plus, my phone was almost dead, so I plugged it into the charger on my bedroom nightstand and went to take a shower.

An hour and a half later, I climbed into bed and checked my phone. I’d missed another call from Max. As I nibbled on my lip and debated if I should call back, my phone buzzed with an incoming text. Normally, I had Siri read me my texts and send responses to save time because of the disconnect between my brain and letters, but when I glanced over and saw Max’s name, I started to read.

Max: Are you avoiding me or busy?

I smiled and texted back.

Georgia: I had a busy day.

Max: Busy now?

Georgia: No, I just climbed into bed.

A few seconds later, my phone rang.

“I really wanted to FaceTime to see what you wear to bed,” Max said. “But I figured I’d be a gentleman.”

I chuckled. “I appreciate that. Because I took a shower and didn’t feel like drying my hair, so I have a braid and no makeup on.”

“Braid, huh? Sorta like Princess Leia…”

I laughed. “Are you actually a Star Wars fan, or do you just have a Princess Leia fetish?”

“I wouldn’t say fetish. But what little boy wasn’t hot for the princess? She was a badass.”

I reached over to my nightstand and grabbed Yoda. “You know, I still have your action figure. I forgot that you put it back in my pocket when I tried to return him.”

“Make sure you take care of my lucky charm.”

I rolled Yoda between my fingers. “How did this little guy become your lucky charm, anyway? Is it because of your fondness for Princess Leia?”

“Nope. It all started with a girl named Amy Chase.”

“A girl, huh? Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Don’t get jealous. She hates me.”

I laughed. “I’ll bite. What’s the story with Amy and Yoda?”

“Amy was in ninth grade when I was in seventh. She was friends with my brother Ethan, who worked at the movie theater around the corner. He used to sneak people in to watch movies for free. One weekend they were running a Star Wars marathon. I think there were six movies back then, so it was something like twelve or fourteen hours long. I went with Amy and a few of Ethan’s other friends, but everyone dropped out after two or three movies. Only Amy and I stayed for the whole thing.” He paused. “Not to be disrespectful, but she had a great rack for a ninth grader. Anyway, we were sitting in the last row of the balcony during The Phantom Menace—which is the worst one, by the way—and we started to get a little bored, so we were talking, mostly about school and stuff. Then out of nowhere, Amy asked me if I’d ever touched a boob. I said no and asked her if she’d ever touched a dick. She said no, so of course I suggested we remedy that.”

“Aren’t you only like thirteen in seventh grade?”

“Yup. And Amy was fifteen. In her defense, I looked older. And I was as big as any ninth grader. Anyway, we gave each other thirty seconds to check out each other’s assets. She stuck her hand down my pants, wrapped her little fingers around my junk, and gave it a good squeeze. Of course, I was fully hard and had been since she’d said the word boobs. After she was done, she let me play with her boobs, under the bra, for half a minute.”

I couldn’t help but crack up at the way he’d emphasized under the bra. “So that’s why I have Yoda? Because you got to cop a feel in a movie theater in seventh grade?”

“What could be luckier than getting to watch six Star Wars movies for free and touching boobs for the first time?”

“You’re a little nutty. Though I guess you’re right—at least at that age.” I laughed. “But why does Amy hate you?”

“Oh, because I told all my friends about it, and they started calling her second-base Chase. I was thirteen and thought I was cool. It wasn’t my finest moment. My brother kicked my ass when he found out I’d told people, and Amy got even by lying and telling everyone my dick was limp when she touched it. But it did teach me an early lesson never to kiss and tell.”

“I bet.”

“So…were you going to call me back?”

“I…” I was about to say I would’ve, but why not be truthful? “I’m not sure.”

“Did you not have a good time last night after the game?”

“No, I did. It was the most I’ve laughed in a long time.”

“Not attracted to me?”

“Is your mirror broken? I’m guessing most women between eight and eighty find you handsome.”

“So the problem is the dumbass then?”

“Dumbass?”

“What else would you call a guy who tells you it’s okay for you to see other people while he’s living out of the country for a year? Dumbass.”

I smiled. “Thank you.”

“You didn’t say you weren’t going to call me back. You said you weren’t sure. So that means there’s a part of you that is interested.”

“There definitely is. I’m not going to deny that I like you. That’s actually the problem. I think it was easier to go out on a date when I knew the person wouldn’t be someone I was into. I’m just not sure I can be invested in two things at the same time, even if there’s nothing technically holding me back.”

Max was quiet for a moment. I thought he might’ve hung up.

“Are you still there?” I asked.

“I’m here. Will you at least come to my game tomorrow night? It’s at home again. You can’t make me play without my good luck charm. You can give it to security if you don’t want to wait around after.”

I looked down at Yoda in my hand. “Sure. I suppose coming to another game is harmless.”

“Bring a friend, if you want. I’ll leave two tickets at the will call booth.”

“Okay.”

“Excellent. It’s getting late, so I’ll let you go.”

“Goodnight, Max.”

“Sweet dreams, Georgia.”