Нора Робертс - Happy Ever After

“Maybe we should have a package deal.” Mac snagged a sandwich. “We planned your wedding, now we’ll plan your divorce. Celebrate at ten percent off.”

“Did they have kids?” Emma wondered.

“No.”

She nodded at Parker. “Well, that’s something, I guess. You haven’t said what you think about it.”

“I had all the same reactions the three of you’ve had, in various degrees.” She lifted her hands, let them fall. “My initial instinct was just no.Then, the more she talked, the more I saw where she was coming from, and why she wanted it.Then I stacked all those instincts and reactions up and took a hard look. It’s business, and it’s really none of our business if a client wants to hire us to celebrate the end of a bad marriage.”

“You’re voting yes?” Mac asked.

“I’m voting yes because she told me she wanted to have this party, this new beginning, here especially because it would remind her that the other beginning had started out beautifully, and full of love and hope.That it would help remind her she hadn’t made a mistake. Things changed, and now she was going to start again, and by God, she was going to keep right on believing in love and hope. She sold me.”

“You have to admire her—what is it?—chutzpa,” Mac commented.

“I’m voting with Parker, and further vote that if anything like this comes up again, we take it on a case-by-case basis.” Laurel looked around the table.“It’s business, but if the client’s just looking to take swipes at an ex, even deservedly, I don’t think this is the place.”

“Agreed,” Parker said instantly. “And if I’d gotten that sense, I would have steered her away.”

“Okay.” Mac nodded. “Case by case.”

“I’ll go along,” Emma decided,“because it sounds like she’s just closing a door, and wants to see what’s behind others. But it still makes me sad.”

“With that, I have other new business that I hope cheers you up. I’ve finished fine-tuning the book proposal.”

“Seriously?” Emma gaped.“I don’t know if I’m cheered up or just scared.”

“I’m going to e-mail you all the file. I want you to edit, adjust, suggest, bitch, moan, scoff. And in the portions that apply to the work you’d do on the project, double all of those. Like this event, this project has to be something we’re all agreed on, happy with. We all have to want it.”

“I have to say we all want it.” Again, Laurel looked around the table for confirmation.“It’s just such new ground. Sometimes you sink in new ground.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about new ground myself.” Parker frowned at her water bottle.“New steps, new risks. I like to think we’re tough enough and smart enough to risk taking those steps onto new ground.”

“Well, when you put it that way.” Laurel blew out a breath. “What’ve we got to lose but ego if we suck at this?”

“I choose optimism and not sucking,” Emma decided. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve already put together, Parker.”

“I think it’s got real potential. Mac, I inserted some of the photos from our files that show your skill set, and with the shots of Emma’s and Laurel’s work, theirs. It gives the flavor, in visuals, of what we do.”

“I’m somewhere between Laurel’s ego suck and Emma’s optimism. And from that position I really want to see the platform.”

“Good. When everybody’s gone over it, when you’re ready, we’ll hash it out. Then when, and if, we’ll send it to the agent. If, again, we’re all agreed.”

She let out a big breath. “And that’s that.”

“I’d like Carter to look at it. English professor,” Mac added. “Aspiring novelist.”

“Absolutely. He can also edit, adjust, and so on.That’s all I have. Anyone else have anything to discuss since we’re all here?”

Emma shot up a hand. “I do. I want to know what’s going on with you and Malcolm.

Really going on, with details.”

“Seconded,” Laurel said.

“And once again, unanimous.” Mac leaned over the table. “Come on, Parks, spill.”

PARKER SCANNED THE THREE FACES SURROUNDING HER. FRIENDS, she thought. Can’t live without them. Can’t tell them to mind their own business.

At least not these friends.

“What do you mean what’s going on? You know what’s going on. Malcolm and I are seeing each other, and when schedules and mood mesh, sleeping with each other.Would you like me to detail our sexual adventures?”

“I would, but hold that for Girl Night,” Laurel advised. “One that includes lots of wine and Mrs. G’s pizza.”

“Question A.” Mac held up a finger. “Is it mutual banging, an affair, or a relationship?”

Knowing she was stalling, Parker rose to pour another cup of tea. “Why can’t it be all three?”

“Okay, mutual banging is for fun and gratification. An affair is more in-depth, and something you may or may not think may lead to something else. But it’s generally what you have until the juice runs out or you move on.” Emma paused, glanced around the table for general agreement. “And a relationship is something you put effort into, it’s making and maintaining a connection.You can have elements of the first two in a relationship, but it’s more than the sum of those parts.”

“She should do a talk show.” Laurel raised her cup in toast.“So, going by our resident expert, are you just having fun, are you considering there may be more, or are you making a connection?”

Parker decided she wanted a petit four.“The problem with the three of you is you’re all in relationships, and more, you’re madly in love and about to get married. So you’re looking at me through that prism.”

“Which not only avoids the question, but turns it so it’s invalid. And it’s not,” Mac insisted. “We tell each other how we feel. It’s what we do. Not telling us says to me that you’re still chewing on it, and maybe a little bit worried. Just not ready. That’s okay. We’ll wait until you are.”

“That’s such a low blow.” Scowling, Parker bit into the pretty little cake.“We’ll wait—subtext—because we’re the good and true and loyal friends.”

Mac took a cake for herself. “Did it work?”

“Bitch.”

“It worked.” Laurel smiled.“And only Emma feels any sense of guilt. She’ll get over it.”

“It’s only a tiny bit of guilt, but I don’t think we should push Parker if she’s not ready to talk to us.”

“You, too?”

Emma lowered her gaze at Parker’s deadly stare.“They’re a bad influence.”

“Fine. The simple answer is I don’t know what it is, exactly. I guess I am still chewing on it. It’s only been a few weeks. I like him. I’m enjoying him. He’s interesting and smart without any of those pompous or overpolished or self-satisfied aspects that, well, either irritate or bore me. He understands what it takes to run a business, and respects what I do, how I do it. I respect what he does, even if I don’t really know too many of the details of how he does it.You almost have to pry him open with a crowbar to get him to talk about himself.”

“You have a whole toolbox of crowbars in various shapes, sizes, and colors,” Mac pointed out. “And you know how to use them so well people tell you everything.”

“Apparently Malcolm’s not people. Under-the-surface details, I mean, which is frustrating because I want to say if it was a long time ago and no big deal—two of his default positions—then why not just tell me about it when it’s obvious I’d like to know? Instead, I back off because I think it probably is a big deal, and that’s why he won’t talk about it. Then he redirects the conversation, something he excels at, or makes me laugh, or we have sex, and I really don’t know much more than I did in the first place.

“Plus, he’s cocky.” She swallowed a bite of petit four, gestured with the rest.“He’s got that attitude that shouldn’t be appealing, it just shouldn’t appeal to me at all, but at the same time he can be charming and just . . . just easy.And he looks at you—me—people, I don’t know. A lot of men don’t really look at you, but he does, so it’s like he’s not just taking in what you’re saying, but taking you in. And that’s powerful.”

She grabbed another cake.“How was I supposed to know how much that combination of powerful and easy would get to me? Really, I couldn’t be expected to know.”

“Hmm,” Laurel said, cutting her gaze to her two friends, hiking up her eyebrows.

“Exactly.” Parker bit into the cake. “Conversely, he’ll interrupt me a half dozen times when I’m trying to make a point or argue a position, which makes it hard to stay on target. So, obviously I don’t know exactly what this is because he’s slippery. He’s slippery,” she repeated, and reached for another cake. “What?” she demanded as her friends stared at her.

“You ate five petit fours,” Mac told her.“You’re going for six.”

“I did not.” Shock hit when Parker looked at the plate. “Five? Well . . . they’re petite.”

“Okay. Back away from the pastries.” Gently, Laurel took the cake out of Parker’s hand, set it on the plate, pushed the plate out of reach. “The problem is you’ve bottled that up, and once you popped the cork you instinctively fed the spew with sugar.”

“Apparently.”

“You’re in love with him,” Emma stated.

“What? No.” Parker shook her head, said it dismissively. “No.” More firmly.Then just shut her eyes. “God. I think I probably am, but if I am, where’s the lift, the tingle, the glow? Why do I feel just a little bit sick.”

“That’s probably the petit fours.” Mac glanced at Laurel. “No offense.”

“None taken. They’re meant to be savored, not popped like candy corn.”

“It’s not the petit fours.” Parker pressed a hand to her stomach. “Or maybe just a little. I don’t have my footing with him, not really.”