Imperfectly Delicious (Imperfect Series #6) - Mary Frame Page 0,47
from the reality show doing so well, and still kind of stuck in this . . .” he stops to think, trying to find the right words, “Hollywood version of reality. Reality shows aren’t real, you know?”
I nod.
“It’s all produced and dramatized to the point of fiction. Marie liked that version of me, the actor, the one that pulled in the ratings, and she was upset when I didn’t want to go back. I’d spent too much time away from the girls, and now I sort of regret it. Except, I wouldn’t be where I am now without having done it. But Marie, she acted unaffected by my choices and outwardly she was fine with the kids. I believed her when she said she didn’t care I was raising the girls. It wasn’t until Ava told me how she really was when I wasn’t around that I had any inkling of anything being wrong. And then the full truth really hammered home when she tried to get me to send them away.”
“Away where?”
“Boarding school for Ava and a special facility for Emma.”
My whole face drops. “No.”
His eyes shutter, gaze lowering. “It’s my fault. I chose poorly, and I didn’t prepare Marie adequately for the severity of Emma’s condition because…I guess I never thought of it as a problem. She is who she is, and I love her for it.”
I cup his face in my hands. “You’re a good man.”
His eyes search mine, the bright green dim in the low lights. “You might not think so tomorrow.”
My mouth twitches. “Maybe not.”
He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of my mouth. One side, then the other. Then my cheek, the side of my jaw, and finally my nose. He pulls me closer and I snuggle into the crook of his neck. “Let’s stay here forever,” I say, breathing in the piney scent of him.
“Okay. We live here now.” He glances around. “We might have to subsist on old Cheetos and cereal from underneath the couch cushions.”
“I’m okay with that.”
He grins wide and uninhibited, and it takes my breath away. Then he kisses me on the corner of my mouth, then my chin, his lips pressing more soft touches to my skin, until our mouths meet again, a gentle pressure that goes on until I don’t know where I end and he begins.
When you’re a business owner, there’s no such thing as the weekend. Even on Sunday, I’m busy baking ahead to freeze, scheduling requests for catering into an already packed calendar, posting on social media with specials for the week…all while making sure I can pay my bills, and doing laundry in the creepy basement of my building. Laundry is the last thing I want to do, but I also don’t want to stink if I happen to make out and fall asleep with Guy again. I shift in the rickety lawn chair that lives in the basement next to the washing machine and balance my laptop on my knees.
The thought of making out with Guy sends shivers up my spine and straight to my lady bits.
I can’t believe we fell asleep on his couch together, wrapped up in each other, a cocoon of perfect bliss. We were awoken at 2 a.m. by Emma walking around the apartment, and then Guy ordered me an Uber.
I slept for a few hours and then woke up to get some work done. I should be exhausted, but I’m oddly energetic. Like the mere thought of Guy is a jolt to my system, an extra dose of caffeine straight to the veins.
Maybe I shouldn’t be so lighthearted about this. Maybe I should be worried as I go through all my bills and expenses. After paying Fred’s part-time wage, I’m barely squeaking by. I used trust money from my parents to purchase the truck, but that’s nearly depleted since I’ve also had to use some of it for regular living expenses. It goes quick in New York City, even if you aren’t living in a penthouse.
And asking my parents for more money? No way. They can’t bother themselves to call me. They don’t care at all about my life. They never have. I would rather move back to Blue Falls and deal with all the shame of failure than ever ask them for one red cent.
Maybe I need to think more about if Guy is going to really try and make me go elsewhere, just in case. Where else could we go? To be