My So-Called Sex Life (How to Date, #1)(63)

32





VODKA AND TONIC TOGETHER AGAIN


Hazel

I crunch into a croque madame, hold the ham, the next morning. Cheese oozes over the edge of the toasted bread, but I dart out my tongue to catch it.

Jackie laughs from across the tiny orange table outside the boulangerie. “You go, Frog Hazel.”

“I love cheese and I cannot lie,” I say after I finish the bite.

“Who doesn’t?” Alecia seconds. “When my wife felt well again, she was like bring me all the cheese.”

“Your wife is smart. Cheese might be the meaning of life,” Maria adds, then takes a bite of her croissant, humming in appreciation. “Can I move to France someday? Well, after I finish my degree and meet a hot billionaire.”

Alecia nods knowingly. “May we all either meet them or become them. Speaking of, I think Amy and JHB have a little something-something going on.” She whips her gaze to me. “You should write about them.”

I’ve already thought about that. But I don’t want to let on any secrets about future story ideas. So I shift gears to the ladies. “Maybe I’ll write about someone who becomes a billionaire making dog bandanas.”

Jackie laughs, clearly tickled at that idea, but then she sighs. “I really hope the bandana business takes off. I have a chance to partner with a pet supply store, but I don’t know what to say in my proposal. Well, I do know what to say. I just think I’ve said it badly.” She frowns, looking embarrassed. “I haven’t sent it in yet.”

I put down my coffee cup and seize the opportunity. These ladies have done so much for me. This is one thing I can do for them. “Want me to look at it?”

Jackie’s eyes pop. “You would?”

“I’m not too bad with words. I could help if you need it.”

Alecia slugs Jackie’s shoulder. “Take the help, Jackie. Let five Calgon Take Me Aways help you.”

“That would be great,” Jackie says, then she fishes out her tablet from her purse. I spend the next thirty minutes fine-tuning her pitch.

“Thank you,” Jackie says sincerely before we go.

“It was my pleasure,” I say, and truly, it was. I want her to have all the good things. Then I take them and the rest of the group on a tour of my Paris, and somehow it feels even more special to share this place I love with all of them. The readers who have become friends.

And that guy too. There at the back, listening intently to every word I say about the curving cobbled street in Montmartre where the hero in The I Do Redo realizes exactly what he wants.

My stomach swoops annoyingly.

Or perhaps not too annoyingly.



The tour is over and I’m wandering with the Book Besties through a map shop in a covered passage when my phone trills with the theme from Jaws.

Normally, I don’t answer or look at my phone when I’m out with others like this, especially when I’m the host. But that’s Michelle calling with the special ringtone I gave her since, well, she’s a shark when she needs to be.

“That’s my agent,” I say apologetically to Jackie, Alecia, and Maria, who are checking out a cartoonish map of Europe. “I’ll call her later.”

Except when I hit ignore, Michelle just rings again a minute later. That’s her shorthand for pick up fucking now.

I wince, unsure what to do.

Jackie, though, is certain. She waves at the phone, shooing me out. “Go! Agents must always be answered.”

“Hi, Michelle,” I say as I head to the door and press the phone to my ear.

“Hi, cutie-pie,” she says in her Georgia accent. Everyone’s cutie-pie to her. I suspect it makes her shark bite sharper. “Is Axel there? Get that peach too.”

I catch Axel’s attention. He’s checking out globes with the Nikon Man and his wife. I waggle the phone, and he follows me outside the shop, then around the corner, where he slides in next to me, shoulder to shoulder, as we lean against a pretty yellow column. He’s close, so close I can smell him, a hint of soap, a bit of rain. My new favorite mix.

Must focus.

“We’re both here,” I tell Michelle, holding the phone between us.

“I am calling with delish news,” she says. She’s well trained. I hate being blindsided, even more so after last year, so Michelle knows to preface her calls with whether the news is good, bad, or ugly.

“I like good news,” I say.

“Guess who got you two cuties a twenty percent raise?”

I blink. Axel’s jaw drops. “Wow,” we say in unison.

“Apparently that disappearing act made your next book even more valuable. Fans are clamoring, and Lancaster Abel wants to put the preorder up soon. So they’re offering to pay you a bigger advance on the book. And they want you to deliver it in four months. What do you think? Can you pull it off? If you do, there will be a bonus on delivery, and the usual bonuses for bestseller lists, which you’ll hit because everyone, and I mean the whole dang Internet, is talking about you two being back on. It’s like vodka and tonic got back together after a terrible year apart.”

I gulp.

Holy shit.

This is real.

We’re truly doing this.

I knew that. Of course I knew that. But now everyone knows. And even if Michelle is exaggerating a tidge, this is a reality check.