“I have no idea what’s going on with Sam lately,” I said with a sigh. “He was up for these two jobs and I’m not sure if he’s gotten them. I have no idea what’s up with him and Kate.”
“Your nemesis.”
“Grrrr.” I growled just thinking about Kate Abbott who teased me all through high school, and then the minute Sam and I broke up, she swooped in and claimed him. Not that I was too bothered about it these days. My breakup with Sam had nearly destroyed me, but already I could see that it was the best thing that could have happened.
“Are you going to answer him?” Roxanna asked.
“Maybe later.” I got rid of the text and looked back at my email. The invitation was still there, awaiting an RSVP. “I have to talk to Duke about this party. But he’s got a big trip to San Francisco coming up. Might not be a good time.”
He tended to be really, really devoted to his business. It could be hard to tear him away from work but once I did, that same intense focus was aimed at me. My toes curled in my black patent wedge heels just thinking about it.
“And he’s not whisking you away with him?” Roxanna asked.
“No, you don’t get the apartment to yourself,” I answered with a laugh. “He’s just going for a day or two and I have to work.”
Roxanna’s iPhone buzzed with an incoming text. Like me, she snatched it up right away.
“Is that from your mysterious millionaire lover?”
“Yes,” she said breathlessly. I tried to raise one eyebrow in an “I’m intrigued” sort of way, but I think I only managed a weird face. Either way, Roxanna was too busy smiling as she texted him back.
“Do tell,” I said, sipping my drink.
“Oh no. I won’t have my romantic entanglements serve as fodder for your next book.”
“Please?” I gave her my most sorrowful expression. “I have no idea what to write and I have a deadline looming.”
My first two historical romance novels had been easy to write, since my real life provided all the inspiration I needed. The heroines of those two novels—loosely based upon myself—had a friend, Prudence, who needed a story too. Also in my inbox: emails from readers asking when Prue’s story would be available. I didn’t have an answer for them. What I had was a bad case of writers block and no cure.
“Your own romance isn’t inspiring you?”
“Nope. My love life is wonderful, which doesn’t exactly make for a very exciting romance novel. There’s no conflamma,” I said, using our made up word for the awful mixture of conflict and drama. It was essential to any great story—the happy ending wouldn’t be as sweet without it.
“Don’t get all sappy romantic on me.” Roxanna punctuated that with a big sip of her whiskey. “You have to promise not to turn into one of those awful, smug couples.”
I laughed. “Well—I suppose there is some conflict. The dueling parties where he has to decide what matters more—his big night or mine.”
“OR YOU have to decide what matters more,” Roxanna pointed out. “Or which party is simply more fun.”
My phone buzzed with another text. I hoped this one was from Duke. We planned to meet up this evening but hadn’t confirmed when or where. I picked up my phone and frowned.
“Another text from Sam?” Roxanna asked after seeing my frown.
“Yeah.” This one was weird and I didn’t want to think about it so I put my phone in my bag.
“Still haven’t found your ring?” Roxanna asked, gesturing to my hands where I was absentmindedly trying to twist my cubic zirconia “engagement” ring around my finger. Except it wasn’t there.
“No,” I sighed. “I could have sworn I left it in my jewelry box. You know me—I always put things away. But it wasn’t there and I can’t imagine where I might have lost it.”
“Good thing it wasn’t real,” Roxanna remarked, with a grimace.
“Yeah. It still had sentimental value though.”
Roxanna’s mystery love texted again. She smiled as she tapped a response with her red manicured fingernails.
“I have to go. It’s for work,” she said. But neither of us could keep a straight face because it may have been her boss texting her, but it was definitely not about work. We both burst out laughing.
Roxanna and I parted ways outside the bar. She went off to meet her mystery lover and Duke texted, inviting me to join him and some of his team for drinks at a bar on the Lower East Side.
Since it was a gorgeous end-of-summer evening, I decided to walk.
I slipped on my headphones, played Empire State of Mind and started heading over to the bar where we agreed to meet. There was nothing like walking through New York City—letting your route be determined by red and green lights, dodging pedestrians on the sidewalk, flowing around cars stopped in the streets, moving in time to the city’s unique rhythm—all while listening to a great song and getting lost in my thoughts. Tonight, I was thinking just how far I had come.