Melt My Heart

by Anna Cove

  "The candles..." Laura lifted her hand in a shrug. "I just wanted to light them to freshen up the space. I felt like it smelled like baby. And not the good baby smell. And the wine, after the week I've had... do you blame me?"

  No, Dylan didn't blame her for that, but she couldn't get Cal's smug smile out of her head. She did a quick gut test. Though she still felt sick, she believed Laura. But what was bothering her still trembled under the surface. It was time to bring it out. No more dancing around the topic. "I need to ask. Is there anything going on between you and Cal romantically?"

  Laura walked to Dylan and crouched in front of her. She took her by her shoulders and sought out her gaze. "No. There never has been anything going on between me and Cal and there never will be. Plus, he's totally messing around with Sydney."

  If Laura was lying to her now, holding her gaze, sincerity written all over her face, her eyes green as the needles of an evergreen tree, then she was the best actress and biggest psychopath that Dylan had ever met. Dylan couldn't believe her judgment of character was that far off.

  Even if she could trust Laura, though, she couldn't trust Cal. His body language just screamed she's mine, and the way he kept taking Laura away from her, the subtle unnerving faces he was making when Laura's back was turned, were clear. Yes, she had to trust her gut on this one. She fumbled for the right words.

  "I don't know how to say this," she said, attempting to stall, "but... I feel like, no, I know Cal is trying to... he wants you, Laura. And not just as a friend or a business partner. He wants you. He might be sleeping with Sydney, but he loves you."

  Laura snorted, but Dylan held her gaze. Dylan was right about this and she wasn't going to back down.

  "I guarantee you Cal does not want me. We've known each other for over a decade, if he did want to make a move on me, why hasn't he before?"

  "I don't know, but I do know what I'm seeing. I'm not going to demand you stop working with him, I just want you to be careful and honest with yourself. And when you're making decisions about this project, do what's best for you and your family. I... listen." This was so hard for Dylan. Everything about it went against every nerve in her body that was telling her to run. But she wasn't going to run, not this time. And if that meant she would get hurt, oh well. She was going to do it anyway. "I love you, and I want to be with you. Forever."

  Laura found Dylan's hand and squeezed it. "I want to be with you, too."

  "Then marry me, Laura Munro."

  Laura's face changed from earnest to blank. Her pupils widened. She kept hold of Dylan's hand, but she pulled away in every way that mattered. Dylan watched as her eyes glistened over and the unmistakable signs of panic flew over her face.

  Dylan had no more air in her lungs.

  She doesn't want me.

  "Forget it." Dylan stood, running a shaking hand through her hair. "Forget I ever mentioned it."

  "No, Dylan, wait. Please, you just took me by surprise."

  She said more, but Dylan didn't hear it as she ran out the door, through the living room, and into the hall. She drove home that night, arriving in Love Falls in the very early hours of the morning, not answering her phone which kept ringing, and ringing, and ringing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  IF BEING A MOTHER HAD taught Laura one thing, it was sometimes you had to change a shitty diaper when you didn't want to. The shitty diapers were literal of course, but also figurative. Sometimes the shitty diaper was waking up in the middle of the night for the umpteenth time, or rocking Aaron for an hour before he went back to sleep when she could barely hold up her own head. Sometimes it was just the rhythm of the day that a baby forced on you—feed, change, feed, put to sleep over and over again.

  Aaron was worth it, and so far, to her, it hadn't seemed much of a burden because she loved him so much, and the joy she found in him overwhelmed all the shittiness. The moments she felt extra tired or cranky she was able to tuck into their own compartment and shut away. But ever since she'd gone back to work, she was having trouble compartmentalizing. She felt like she could only give a small portion of herself to him and her work and the pieces didn't add up to the whole that was Laura. She felt like she was doing a shitty job everywhere. It was all shitty.

  But today, while pitching the network executives, she was going to have to dig deeper than she ever had. She was going to have to convince them to believe in her, when she wasn't all that sure she believed in herself any longer.

  Cal seemed nervous and quiet on the way over to the meeting. The more he bounced his leg and scrolled through his phone, the calmer Laura felt as she tucked what was bothering her—a vast amount of shittiness in the form of no nanny and a girlfriend who had proposed to her and then wouldn't answer her calls—in a compartment that took up practically her whole body.

  She had to tuck it away.

  She didn't have a choice.

  Every minute of the past two weeks had been working toward this moment. It may only be a formality, but she hadn't signed any contracts yet. Until the ink was dry on the deal, she wouldn't take anything for granted, especially if they didn't like her idea. Plus, she had a feeling that not all was as it seemed with this deal. She had to stay on her toes. Had to stay alert. Had to convince them that her idea would bring success to them all. That they should trust her.

  The building containing Landmire's offices was not one of the mirrored glass skyscrapers Laura had imagined, but a scrappier building in Washington Heights. The elevator was old and rickety and shuddered whenever they stopped on a floor. The carpet was worn along the center of the halls, and the walls peeling so badly that paint chips cluttered the baseboards.

  As Cal guided her down the hallway, she reasoned that of course it looked like that. That this was a good sign. Perhaps the company was spending their money on things that mattered.

  It got better when they entered the actual office. The walls were newly painted and clean, the furniture sleek. A receptionist guided them back to the meeting room. As soon as she left them alone, Laura started setting up for her pitch.

  Laptop. Notebook. Take a breath.

  "Are you sure you want to go with your idea? You don't want to try one of the other ideas we developed?"

  "No, Cal," she said, her voice tinged with annoyance. Questions pinballed around her brain, seemingly coming from nowhere. Why was he so negative about this project? Why did he seem nervous? Why had Dylan proposed?

  She shook her head with the intent of physically shutting down the questions. Tuck them away, Laura.

  Then she started going over her pitch again. She had written it out, then buffed it until it shined. Now, all she had to do was let the story flow and it would sell itself. Cal had never had a taste for the creative side of things, anyway. It was Laura who had always come up with the creative ideas. He'd probably done a poor job presenting it to the network, which is why they were hesitant about the idea.

  Before she could let herself go down that rabbit hole, three men and two women filed into the room, chatting with one another like coworkers who liked each other.

  Laura appreciated the relaxed vibe and immediately chilled. She would do well with this crowd.

  She launched forward and shook hands with them, and they exchanged greetings and introductions.

  The group took their seats. Cal sat in the back, looking like he had eaten a bad clam, but the actual network execs watched her openly and attentively. She could do this. She'd been preparing her whole life for this moment. She briefly considered putting on her Charlotte persona from The Beautiful Ones, but opted not to. This story required Laura. Her authentic self. She took in a subtle breath through her nose and let it go.

  Here we go.

  "Have you ever had to call emergency services? I have. Earlier this year, I had to call nine-one-one for the first time. I was thirty-nine weeks pregnant and my sweet son really wanted to make his entry into the world. The only problem? I was in my car, on a road I didn't know. On a mountain. And I was s
cared out of my mind."

  Already, she could see signs of interest on their faces. A personal story, they thought. She could practically see it in their eyes. What had Cal been worrying about?

  "The operator on the line talked me through it, making me feel like I had someone with me in the most intense and most physically and mentally demanding moments of my life. She talked me through giving birth to my own child on the side of that road."

  Dylan. That was Dylan. You need to go to her. Now.

  No. Not now. Not now.

  Laura cut out a bit of the story she was planning to tell, the bit about Dylan, and jumped to what she thought was the best part of the pitch.

  "That experience got me thinking about the thousands of people who make emergency calls every day, about their stories. These calls often come on the worst day of someone's life. When their wife is having a seizure, or their husband a heart attack. When they're being robbed. When they've gotten into an accident.

  "But there's so little out there about the people who sit on the other side of the line and listen to these stories day in and day out. About the service they provide to the public. The trauma they experience vicariously when they hear a particularly horrific story.

  "I want this series to be about them. Each episode will follow a different nine-on-one operator, look at their calls, and how the calls affect their lives. We can interview people from all over. Rural operators, city operators, etcetera."

  Laura started to relax into her pitch after that. She talked about how each episode of the mini-series would be structured and how they would hook the viewer. She showed them a clip of the city emergency operator she and Cal had landed earlier in the month. By the looks of it, she had already hooked her viewers, except for Cal who still wouldn't look at her. She tucked him in the shitty compartment where he belonged and finished off her pitch with a smile and a flourish.

  There was silence for a moment. Then the man at the front raised his eyebrows. "That..." he paused.

  She'd been holding off such strong feelings that with this simple pause, Laura's stomach took a dive into the deep end.

  "Is an amazing pitch. I love it. No, I'm crazy about it. I think it'll be huge."

  "Me too," said the woman across from him. Charlene, Laura thought her name was, if she could remember correctly. "I love how it capitalizes on all that's popular right now. You're pulling in the true crime element, as well as the personal stories from everyday people. It has hit written all over it."

  Laura shot a smug smile at Cal, who had finally looked up from his phone. Though he still seemed a little sick—maybe he was actually sick—relief washed over his features. His shoulders lowered to their customary position.

  "Thank you," Laura said, just able to rein herself in from the elation. "I think so, too. And once we really start digging into it, I think we'll find some amazing stories that no one has told yet."

  "I can't wait," said the man in front.

  After that, they sat down and hammered out some details. Cal took over this part, his malaise vaporizing as he took on his usual role. Laura tried to concentrate, but now that her job was done, the stuff she had compartmentalized started to seep out.

  She wanted to hug Dylan and spend the night with her and thank her for her inspiration, her patience, and her courage. But could she?

  Riding high on the adrenaline of her pitch, she felt like she could tackle just about anything, even the mess she'd left with Dylan. She could fix it. It had only been a couple weeks. How much damage could she have done in such a short period of time?

  As the meeting started to wind down, Laura excused herself from the table and asked for directions to the ladies' room. Charlene told her. Out of the office, the elation of the moment began to fade and the task before her rose in its vastness.

  Dylan had proposed to her.

  And she hadn't answered.

  Dylan. Had proposed. PROPOSED.

  What had she done? Of course she loved Dylan and wanted to be with her. But marriage? Her divorce had just finalized. She was just getting started on this new life and all her dreams were coming true. She needed a breath. A moment to herself.

  She should have just told Dylan that the night she'd proposed, but she hadn't been able to. There was just too much on her mind. Too much at stake. Laura's next breath felt constricted. She pressed a hand into her chest, leaning against the wall.

  "Are you all right?"

  Laura whirled around. It was the man from the pitch meeting, the one who was sitting in front, the head honcho whose name she really should remember, but it was escaping her. She who memorized hundreds of lines a day for almost a decade of her life couldn't remember a name. It showed her just how distracted she had been, despite her compartments.

  "Yeah, I'm fine." She forced herself to straighten up, to drop her hand, to push down the thoughts that were crowding her head space and to be present in the moment.

  "That was a great pitch."

  "You seem surprised." Laura congratulated herself on the joking tone she was able to grab onto at the last moment.

  "No, I'm not surprised. It's just that, when Cal asked me to schedule this, I wasn't expecting you to be so... down-to-earth. So sharp."

  "Well," Laura smiled, then she went over what he had just said. The veiled insult was one thing, but that's not what piqued her attention. It was the way he had referred to Cal. Something about his phrasing made it sound as if this had been a favor for Cal. But why would that be the case if they already had a deal? Laura needed to find out more.

  She smiled, touching the hair at the nape of her neck in a way she hoped was inviting. She wanted to encourage him to talk. "We appreciate you making the time."

  "Cal and I go way back," the man said, taking the bait. "We went to high school together."

  "Really." Laura folded her arms. He wanted to talk. All she had to do was let him.

  "When he told me you had an idea, I was skeptical, I must admit. The tabloids, you know—"

  "Can't believe everything you read," Laura said flatly.

  "No, of course not. But I definitely didn't expect you to be so smart and compelling in there."

  Good lord, this man. Did he even realize that he was basically saying he expected her to be a dumb blonde? She pasted her mouth shut so she wouldn't let rip her gathering anger, something she never would have been able to do six months ago. But she saw now she could use him. He was so oblivious to what he was saying. Maybe he'd give Cal away without realizing it. The fact that she was digging so hard showed Laura just how much faith she had lost in her manager and onetime best friend.

  She forced herself to loosen her crossed arms again. She smiled her best Charlotte smile. "I really appreciate you giving me the chance."

  "It's no problem for an old friend."

  "And the fact that you offered me a deal even before you heard the pitch..."

  The man's face froze mid-smile. "What?"

  She knew as soon as the confused word passed through the man's lips that Cal had lied about the deal. That son of a bitch. "Oh, sorry, I misspoke. Well, we better get back. Got some work to do."

  Laura brushed past him before he could reply.

  She managed to thank everyone in the conference room. She managed to smile and nod and answer a few lingering questions about her project. She managed to keep quiet all the way down the elevator. But the moment she stepped into the car, she turned toward Cal and felt the full force of the angry hurricane swell within her.

  "I NEED YOU TO BE HONEST with me, Callahan Scott. Right now." Laura's voice was deadly calm, a surprise given how angry she felt. The noises of the car—the tick-tick of the signal and the tires crunching over gravel—sounded stark to her heightened senses. She felt like an eagle circling her prey.

  Cal didn't look up from his phone. "Sure, Lo, what's up? You did great in there, by the way."

  "Put away your phone."

  Cal glanced up, a half-smile playing on his face, looked back at his
phone, then quickly looked back up at her again, as if he had just registered what was going on. He turned off his screen and set the phone down next to him. Laura looked for any sign of guilt, and she found it in the slight tensing of his shoulders, as if he was ready to lift his arms to protect himself.

  "Tell me how you got this meeting."

  "My friend, Joe... he was the guy sitting in the front. When he heard you were looking for a studio, he wanted you, bad."

  "So bad that he offered me—a relative nobody—a deal that not even fucking Ken Burns would get?"

  "Yeah, I don't know what to tell you other than that you're probably hotter than Ken Burns. Certainly more interesting." Cal picked up his phone again, dragging his finger along the screen.

  He was done, but Laura had just begun. How could she have been so blind? "I know, Cal. I know this was an actual pitch meeting, not a creative meeting, and I know that guy—that Joe—was doing you a favor."

  Cal froze. He looked up. "So?"

  "So? SO?" She broke through the dam of her anger. "You lied to me, Cal."

  "And look where it got us. You did great in there! You got your dream job doing exactly what you wanted. You just needed some motivation."

  Laura wouldn't have been surprised if a tiny tornado started whipping her hair around her head in that moment, her anger felt so real and visceral. "You always said we were partners, but partners don't lie to each other? Why did you do that?"

  Cal shrugged, unable to peel his eyes away from the phone. "I already told you. For motivation. It was the only way to get you out of those godforsaken mountains."

  "Why did it matter to you? You had a new client. You had a life set out for you here. One that was a whole lot less complicated and uncertain than this one."

  "I don't know."

  Laura ripped the phone out of his grasp and threw it on the carpet. It slid under the passenger seat.