result of it. No. If change were possible, my dad would have stopped gambling for my mom’s sake. I know he would have. He loved her. He looked so stricken and lost every time she berated him for losing money. He was guilty. He hated himself. I knew he did. Change wasn’t something that one just did on a whim. It took hard work. If I could just change, I would have stopped reading romance novels altogether instead of sneaking them around on my e-reader, afraid that my super-smart boyfriend who called them trash would find out I was reading one.
“Meg,” Jeremy said, tugging me from my thoughts.
“Yes?”
“You didn’t answer me. I asked you what made you care what other people think.”
I took a long sip of wine while I thought about his question. “I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. Why did I care what other people thought? Why couldn’t I be like Luke and Jeremy and follow my bliss?
The waiter came and took our matching steak frites order. After he left, Jeremy ducked his head to capture my gaze and said to me, “I think you should write a historical romance novel.”
I bit my lip. “The truth is I have been studying how to write novels for several years now.”
“Really?” He sat up straighter and leaned forward, actually seeming interested in hearing more about it.
“I’ve read every book on writing craft out there,” I admitted.
“Then I’d say it’s time you started.” He lifted his beer glass to his lips.
I looked away. “I don’t know.” Write a book? Really do it? The idea thrilled me but scared me at the same time.
“It takes courage to follow your dreams,” Jeremy said.
“Oh, it’s not my dream,” I dragged out the word. “Getting tenure is my dream, of course. Writing a romance novel is just something I’ve been toying with in the back of my mind. Just for fun.”
He arched a skeptical brow at me. “For how long?”
I shrugged and shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “You know...sixteen years.”
“Yep, sounds like a passing fancy to me.” He gave me a sad little smile.
I swallowed and took another sip of wine. Then I promptly changed the subject. We talked about the upcoming competition and practiced our lines quietly until the food was served. Jeremy was right. The steak frites were to-die-for. I couldn’t help but wish I’d ordered a beer instead of the wine, though. Harrison turned up his nose to beer, but being around Jeremy made me really miss the beers I’d enjoyed pre-Harrison.
Jeremy paid the bill and we’d just stood to leave when another couple brushed past us.
“Meg?”
I swiveled around. “Harrison?”
“What are you doing here?” we both asked in unison.
Harrison was with Lacey Lewis, of course. She wore a slinky black dress that exposed the kind of cleavage you saw on a red carpet, while Harrison wore slacks and a nicer shirt and jacket than he normally did. All black with a white shirt. They totally looked like they were on a date.
I wanted to be indignant, but I immediately realized that it probably looked like Jeremy and I were on a date too. I couldn’t be angry with Harrison when I was holding the same guilty stick.
“Lacey and I are having a working dinner,” Harrison said, eyeing Jeremy up and down.
“Hi, Dr. Knightley,” Lacey chirped. “Oh, this must be your brother. Didn’t you tell me Meg has a brother, Harry?” She pawed at Harrison’s sleeve. Her manicure was still red and still perfect.
She was calling him “Harry” now? What? Like the prince? I’d never heard anyone call him “Harry.” It kind of made me want to gag. Just a little.
Harrison shook his head and I added, “No, he’s not my brother. This is Jeremy. Jeremy Remington. Jeremy, this is Harrison Macomb and Lacey Lewis.”
Jeremy shook Harrison’s hand and said, “Nice to meet you,” to Lacey while she continued to watch him like a lion stalking a gazelle. She also continued to hang on Harrison’s arm, and I continued wanting to gag.
“Is this your Mr. Darcy, then?” Lacey asked in a purring tone.
“Yes.” I lifted my chin. “Jeremy is my new partner.”
“Wherever did you manage to find him?” she asked in an incredulous tone, one that made it obvious that she thought I must have tricked him into standing by my side. Boy, did I hope Lacey Lewis never found that that I was paying Jeremy.
“We’re...” I cleared my throat. “We’re old friends.”
A muscle ticked in Harrison’s jaw, but he remained silent.
“Got your