Melody stares at me from her pink, plush chair, hands crossed at her waist.
“You know I can’t print this.” Her gaze briefly flicks to the computer screen in front of her.
“Why not?” My voice quivers just slightly. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy to convince her to make a last-minute switch on my article, but it’s my favorite thing I’ve ever written. I took bits from all the interviews I’ve done with other couples and from my own experience these past six months with Declan and compiled them into a sort of lessons in love piece.
“Our readers are expecting an up-close and personal detailing of your marriage to a pro-hockey player. This is the kind of crap a million other magazines are publishing every day. It’s played out.”
Her words sting, but I keep my head held high. Maybe it is played out, but there’s a reason that people love reading about romance. It gives us hope. Relationships aren’t always easy or pretty. In fact, the one thing every couple I talked to had in common were the trials and tribulations along the way. Love is coming to a crossroads and deciding that the other person is worth the fight.
“My personal life isn’t up for grabs. Not anymore.”
She leans forward. “Your personal life is what keeps you in a job.”
“Then I guess it isn’t a job I want anymore.”
She laughs, like she thinks I’m joking, but when I don’t join in, she stops. “You can’t be serious?”
Staying quiet, I hold her stare.
She looks away first. “We can publish this on the website as a one-time special feature, but your regular article will publish as is. You have to trust me, Jade. This is going to be good for the magazine, and for you too. Look at the exposure it’s already given you. Your writing is good, but you need a point of view that sells. I gave you that.”
“You did and I appreciate it. I learned a lot about publishing and myself.”
A pleased smile lifts her pink-painted lips.
“When I took this job, I was so willing to do anything to be successful. Deceiving people didn’t seem so bad because I didn’t even believe in a happily ever after, not really.”
“You don’t have to believe it to sell it. Look at me. I’ve been divorced twice.”
“You’re right. I think we proved that.”
“Continue the articles for another six months, completing your first year of marriage, as scheduled, and then we’ll find another place for you. The beauty department could use an additional strong writer.”
“No, thank you.” Even if I believed she’d keep her word, which I don’t, I know that I can’t stay here. I stand and clasp my hands in front of me to keep them from shaking and showing how nervous I am. “I quit.”
“Where will you go?” She stands behind her desk.
“I’m not sure yet,” I say honestly.
“I have connections all over the city and the publishing industry. Not to mention, I know your big secret. What would the media think if they found out that your husband was in a fake marriage?”
It’s a low blow to threaten Declan’s reputation, but it has it’s intended impact. I’d rather die than see him take the backlash for my mistakes.
Steeling my voice, I rest one hand on the door handle and look her straight in the eye as I say, “I don’t know, but I doubt it would be as bad as if they found out the Editor-in-Chief of I Do was using a fake marriage to sell magazines.”
With that, I let myself out. Scarlett pops up from her cubicle and rushes to my side.
“Are you okay?” Her brown eyes are wide as she studies my face.
I manage a nod, too afraid to speak. I’d already packed up the things at my desk, so I grab them and keep my chin lifted as I walk to the elevator. A few people whisper and stare, but I try not to show that I’m anything less than confident in my decision.
When the elevator doors close me and Scarlett inside, I finally breathe.
“Holy shit.” The words come out with another whoosh of air.
“I’m so proud of you.” She hugs me. “I wish I could have seen her face.”
“No, you don’t,” I tell her. “It was scary. She threatened to go to the press and out me and Declan.”
“Let her try. No one could ever see the two of you and not know you’re crazy about each other.” Her grip on me tightens. “Whatever happens, I’ve got your back. A lot of people do. She doesn’t want to mess with your family.”
“I know.” I squeeze her back. “Thank you for always being there for me, even when I didn’t know how to appreciate it.”
Declan’s Ferrari pulls into the parking lot as we walk outside, and my heart beats a little faster.
“Your husband is here,” Scarlett says in a playful tone.
Declan stops in front of us, and Scarlett opens the passenger door for me. She leans down to wave at Declan. “Hi.”
“Hey, Scarlett.” His deep voice rumbles in response, but his eyes are on me.
Scarlett turns back and hugs me one last time. “Love you. Check in later and let me know how you’re doing.”
“I’m going to be just fine,” I tell her, before sliding into the seat with all my stuff.
She closes me in, and Declan glances at the box in my lap.
“Hey, thanks for the ride.” I lean over to kiss him.
“You’re welcome.” He jabs a thumb toward the box. “What’s all that?”
“Notebooks, pens, some photos, and a cactus that might be dead.”
“O-kay.”
I thought I’d be more scared, but I feel hopeful and excited about what’s next. A smile spreads across my face. “I quit.”
“Seriously?” Both of his dark brows lift.
Nodding quickly, I talk at a rapid pace. “I realized that I was never going to get to write the things I want while working there. I’ll be thirty and still writing about my life married to a Wildcat. And I guess I realized that I don’t want to share that part of my life anymore. You’re all mine.”
“Should have borrowed the spreader bars,” he mumbles.
“What?” I ask with a giggle.
“Nothing. That’s amazing news.”
“Really? You’re okay with this? It might take me a little while to find another job.” Letting another person take care of me isn’t easy, but no one ever has, or will, love me as much as he does. It seems like the perfect time to take a leap of faith.
“Really, really. You’re too talented to be writing about me. I’m not that interesting.”
“Oh, I beg to differ.” I drape a hand behind his neck and thread my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “But thank you. I’m excited. Maybe I’ll try to write a book or something while I look for another job.”
“I can think of all sorts of ways to keep you busy.” His mouth slants over mine and his tongue sweeps into my mouth.
We make out in the parking lot until the windows start to fog and Declan complains his sweats are feeling tight in the crotch.
“One more thing,” I say, while catching my breath.
“What’s up, baby?” He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.
“About having a kid.”
He looks like he wants to interrupt, but I keep going before I lose my nerve. “I do want kids, but not yet. Is that a deal breaker?”
“With you, nothing is a deal breaker.” He drops another kiss on my lips and brushes his thumb across my cheek. “You were worried about this?”
“I know how important family is to you. It is for me too, just not yet. Maybe in a year or so.”
“I want kids with you, if and whenever, you’re ready. I’m sorry you felt pressured. It was never a deal breaker. I knew upping the stakes and asking you to have a baby would force you to figure out what you wanted, but it was still a shitty thing to throw at you.” His grip is firm on my neck, and he ducks his head, so we’re inches apart. “You’re my family. If it’s just the two of us, that’ll be enough.”
My stomach dips and I lunge forward and capture him in a tight hug. “I love you so much.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing that.” His hand cradles my head. “I love you too. But just so we’re clear, I think you’d be sexy as hell in some mom jeans with a baby on your hip.”
“And you with a dad bod, making pancakes for a couple of twin girls.” I sigh at the image, then press my lips to his.
“Twins? Girls?”
I smile at the slight panic in his voice.
He swallows the laugh that slips from my lips. “Boys. Maybe one girl. Fuck it, let’s have a dozen of both.”
