a long and productive professional relationship?
He calls again.
I bite my lip. I want to talk to him—I’m dying to talk to him, actually—but then I remember how fast he high-tailed it away from me last night. Something tells me, there’s nothing but awkwardness ahead.
Sure enough, Liam doesn’t leave a message, but a moment later he sends me a text. Hey, it says, looking for notes on conference call from last week. Can you email them over?
That’s it? I feel like I’m being punked. This jerk had his fingers buried to the second knuckle inside me not twelve hours ago, and that’s what he wants to talk about now? Conference call notes? I send them over with no comment, and a moment later the phone chimes again.
Thank you.
Then, a few minutes later, another text: I also want to offer you my sincere apology for last night. It was unprofessional and unbecoming of both of us. It won’t happen again.
Now I really do throw the phone across the room. Then I sigh and go pick it up off the rug. I scroll to Katie’s name. SOS, I text her. Wine lunch?
She texts back a minute later. Always.
I meet Katie and her cousin April at a tiny French bistro downtown, where we order a dozen oysters and a bottle of crisp white wine to share. Not to mention a double order of fries.
“I mean, sure,” I concede, once I’ve filled them in on my sexual misadventures, “maybe it wasn’t a great idea, career-wise, to get to third base with my boss on a work night.” I pop a fry into my mouth. And then another. “But still.”
“Is finger-banging third base?” Katie asks thoughtfully. “Honestly, I’m almost thirty years old, I’m allegedly a relationship expert, and I still get so confused about the bases.”
“I’m being serious!” I wail, trying not to laugh. “Honestly, I’m insulted! He should want to do all the bases with me, no matter what they are!”
“He should want to do all the bases,” April agrees.
I take a sip of my wine and sigh. “Is there something wrong with me?” I ask in a small voice. “I mean, the guy practically had an open invitation last night to take things further, and instead, he sprinted away from me at top speed!”
“What? Definitely not,” Katie insists, reaching over and squeezing my hand. “Honestly, I’m sure he does want to—”
“Hit a home run?” April supplies. “Score a three-pointer? Get a hole-in-one?”
“I’ve lost track of the sports metaphors here, but yes.”
“I’m sure he wants to bone you,” April says firmly, “and honestly from what you’ve said, he’s just… Shy? Formal? The Fitzwilliam Darcy of the New York publishing scene?”
“Now there’s a comparison I understand.” Katie laughs. “Speaking of which,” she says, emptying the last dregs of the wine into her glass and nodding at the ponytailed waiter, “it is a truth universally acknowledged that three girls with empty wine glasses must be in want of another bottle.”
“Yes, please,” I sigh, and we spend the rest of lunch catching up. Both of them are annoyingly, blissfully happy in their current relationships, and April even hints that she might be thinking about the M-word.
“Seth is going to propose?” I ask, my eyes wide.
“No, I meant, moving in together!” April snorts with laughter. “It’s only been six months!”
“Still, that’s a big deal,” I say, a little envious. “And meanwhile, you and Wes are still going strong?” I ask Katie.
She gives a smug little grin, the kind you give when you have hot sex on tap. “I mean, the man drives me crazy, but that’s not necessarily a good thing.”
“Ugh.” I sigh. “And I mean that in the best of ways.”
Katie laughs. “Don’t write yourself off so quick,” she says, her eyes sparkling. “I have a good feeling about this hot boss sex robot of yours.”
I’d love to spend all day boozing with Katie and April, but technically I suppose I am supposed to be working, so I switch to water before heading back to my “home office”—by which I mean, my laptop and my couch. A change of scenery—and some quality girl talk—really did help clear the cobwebs out of my brain, and I’ve made some pretty good progress on the book when my email dings with a new incoming message. I feel my stomach flip with excitement when I see an email from Verity, with the completed manuscript of Rock Hard attached!
Yes!
I grab a seltzer and a snack, then light a candle, wanting the ambiance to