The Fifteenth Minute

by Sarina Bowen

  I really do.

  His kiss is soft, and I sink into it, still mindful of his midsection. “Is there anything I should kiss to make it better?”

  “Um…” He laughs and kisses me again. “I can think of a few places.”

  “Funny, so can I.” I kiss down the side of his face and into his neck. He smells like soap and DJ.

  With a happy groan, he tightens his grip on my body, pulling my hips against his.

  Life is good. And getting better all the time.

  36

  Five Days Later

  DJ

  When my phone rings, we’re in the back of another limo sliding through Midtown.

  Just like last time, Lianne is looking nervous. She’s fidgeting and shifting in her seat.

  So I don’t answer the call. But I get a text anyway. It’s from Leo. Be at practice today, bro! We need you again! Four o’clock.

  Jesus H. It’s noon and I’m ninety minutes away. But if this lunch doesn’t go too long…

  “DJ?” Lianne says suddenly. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  Forgetting about Leo, I slide across the leather seat to her. “Hit me, smalls. What is it?”

  She pulls an envelope out of her bag. “This is a rider that Bob wanted to put on my contract with the Sentry Sorcerer people. It’s a nudity clause. They want me to do a sex scene. Does that freak you out?”

  “Um…what?” There’s a topic of conversation I never saw coming. Then again, I never dated anyone who showed up every eighteen months or so on movie screens all over the world. “Do you want to do it? It’s your career, smalls. I’m never going to tell you what to do.”

  “I don’t want to do it.”

  “Okay. Are you thinking your brother can help you figure out your options?”

  “That would be nice.” She sighs. “God, I’m so nervous.”

  Why? I stop myself from asking. It’s hard for me to comprehend the fact that Lianne’s family hasn’t really been there for her and how sharply that must sting.

  I spent the better part of a year feeling like the most unlucky guy in the world. But now I know better.

  My arm slides around her back. “This is going to be fine,” I say, hoping I’m right. And if I’m not, I’ll ply her with dessert, music trivia, words of encouragement and sex until she smiles again. Lianne is a buoyant personality, and I know she’d do the same for me.

  It’s good, this thing we’ve got. Really good.

  The car slides to a stop in front of a restaurant called Lexington Brass in Midtown. The name sounds stuffy, but when we step into the place, it’s brighter and more relaxed than I’d imagined, even if some of the clientele are dressed in suits. There are a couple of people checking in ahead of us, so we’ll need to wait a moment.

  “This is nice.” When I’d read the menu on my phone, it said something about buttermilk-fried chicken. So now I’m ready to chew off my own arm.

  The hostess’s eyes open wide when Lianne steps forward to give her brother’s name.

  “Wow. Right this way Miss Challice.”

  I whisper into her ear. “That’s him, isn’t it?” She leads us toward a man seated in the center of the room beside a woman who might be his girlfriend. He looks a little like Lianne. He has her same clever eyes.

  “Yeah,” she breathes. “I think I might puke.”

  “Really?”

  “No,” she says quickly. “But this is weird. It’s kind of Little Orphan Annie meets her folks. But without the red wig.”

  “Aw. The sun will come out tomorrow.”

  She looks up in surprise. “You know Annie? And yet you keep your man card?”

  “I have a little sister, thank you very much. And I know music. Duh.”

  “Duh,” she echoes, and we share a smile.

  We reach the table, and Lianne’s brother stands up. “Hi,” he says, his voice soft. Then he surprises us both by hugging Lianne. “I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

  Okay, I might be able to like this dude after all. Maybe.

  “It’s okay,” Lianne says, her voice wobbling.

  And now heads are starting to turn our direction, and I see a couple onlookers nudge each other in recognition.

  “Excuse me,” I say to the hostess, who’s hovering until we sit down. “This table is just a little too public. Is there any way you could put us in a corner somewhere?”

  “Oh! I think I could do that.” She looks around quickly. “Do you mind being in the back room?”

  “We love being in the back room,” I say truthfully. I’ve gotten better at figuring out how to eat out with Lianne without encouraging interruption. The details are everything. “Do you mind?” I ask her brother. “Sorry to make it complicated.”

  “Not at all,” he says quickly. “I should have realized.”

  We follow the hostess around a corner to a table in a quieter section of the restaurant. Lianne and I are seated on a banquette side by side, with her brother and his girlfriend Mary opposite. After a round of handshakes, and placing orders for drinks, it’s finally quiet. We’re reading our menus when Mary speaks up.

  “Thanks for nudging him,” she says. “This is fun, and I’ve always wondered why we never saw you.”

  “Well, it’s nobody’s fault,” Lianne says. “Except my mother’s, maybe. She never told me you always call her around the holidays.”

  Rick shrugs. “She’s a tough cookie. This past season I didn’t manage to catch her. So it was more of a holiday voicemail. And I don’t even know if our wedding invitation reached you.”

  Lianne sits back. “No. Of course not. I’m going to kill her. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.” Mary beams. “We’ll send you another one. It’s next fall on Cape Cod.”

  “Sounds pretty.” She clears her throat a little self-consciously. “You must think it’s weird that DJ wrote to you. But I didn’t know what to do, and I was all pissed off at Bob and not thinking clearly.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” her brother says. “But I didn’t mind getting a letter from DJ. Calling would have been quicker, though. Because I travel a lot.”

  “I’ll remember that for next time,” I joke, finding Lianne’s hand under the table.

  She squeezes it. “I’m truly done with Bob. He isn’t good to me, except on payday.”

  Rick flinches. “Sorry. Then I hope you’ll look elsewhere for help. If you’re not comfortable at my firm, I’ll send you to a friend.”

  Lianne gives me a little sideways smile. “Well, that’s easy. Can you just…take over? Or assign someone to do it? There’s a part I want and I don’t think Bob has even called them. He keeps stringing me along.”

  Our drinks arrive, and Rick takes a sip of his beer. “What’s the part? I might know if it’s been cast yet.”

  “Well…” Lianne looks self-conscious. “I really want Lady M in Jared Swanson’s production of the Scottish play.”

  “Ah,” Rick says. “Good pick.”

  “I did Juliet at the Public Theater this winter,” Lianne says in a rush. “And I’ve been working really hard on the script. All I want is a meeting. I think I can sell it.”

  Rick lets out a breath. “I will make any phone call you want me to. But I can’t say your odds are good. Sure hate saying so, though.”

  Lianne pales. “Damn. Is it already cast?”

  “No and yes,” he says. “I will call this afternoon and ask all the questions I can. But the problem is the male lead is cast. He’s going to be played by Dermott DeAgostino. You know of him? British guy but he looks Italian?”

  “Oh, hell,” Lianne swears, tipping her head back against the wall behind us. “I never had a chance.”

  “Why?” I ask. I must be two steps behind, because her disappointment doesn’t make sense to me.

  Lianne turns in her seat and puts a hand to my chest. “Thank you for reading the Scottish play out loud with me ten times. I don’t regret it, because it was so much fun, but I’m sorry I was
ted your time.”

  “Why?” I ask again.

  “Dermott DeAgostino,” she says, and now her lips twitch. “He’s…” She heaves a sigh.

  “Six-foot-five,” her brother finishes.

  “Oh,” I say slowly. I think I understand. “They wouldn’t match you two together?”

  “No.” Lianne shakes her head. I can see her trying to hold it together.

  Damn it. I wrap an arm around her back and pull her in. “Sorry, baby. You’ll get the next one.” But after how hard she’s worked, that’s inadequately comforting. Lianne’s back heaves under my hand, and my heart breaks for her. “Shh,” I say uselessly.

  But it shakes harder, and I realize she’s laughing. No, it’s more than that. She’s been seized by a giggle. “Omigod, Deej,” she gasps. “It’s not a good day for the short people of the world.”

  I feel a bark of laughter contract my stomach. Her silliness is kind of contagious. It never occurred to me that Lianne and I could have the same disappointments. I thought it was only men who had to be super-sized.

  Now I’m laughing, too.

  She presses her forehead to my shoulder and giggles into my shirt. “We read that play so many times. ‘Let this pernicious hour stand aye accursed in the calendar!’”

  “No!” I argue. “Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.”

  Lianne snorts, and we have to laugh some more. We are ridiculous. But then I have an ugly thought. “Do you think this happened because you said his name that time when we were arguing? I don’t want this to be my fault.”

  “No way,” she gasps. “Whatever.”

  “Whatever.” I kiss the top of her head.

  Lianne’s brother is watching us with fascination. “I’ll still call the director. Just in case.”

  She wipes her eyes with her napkin. “I appreciate it. But I’ll live to fight another day either way. There has to be another juicy part out there for someone who wants to get out of sorcery.”

  “Oh, I can think of a dozen things,” Rick says. “And if your goal is to do something more serious, you can probably hold out for just the right thing. Especially if you want to finish school, right? Seems like the perfect time to be picky.”

  Lianne takes a deep breath. “Thank you for saying that. I’m not used to people listening to me. Except DJ.” She slides out of the booth. “I’m going to fix my face. Be right back.”

  She slips away toward the back, and I watch her go. Even after a disappointment, there’s a bounce in her step. The girl just kills me. I love her so hard.

  “Is Bob really awful?” Rick asks in a low voice. “One of the reasons I let Lianne’s mom keep me away is that I didn’t want anyone to think that I was after a cut of Lianne’s star power.”

  I take a drink of my soda so I don’t have to answer immediately. “You should tell her that,” I say after thinking it over. “She thinks you don’t care.”

  “Shit.” He takes a swig of beer. “She was only eleven when our dad died, and she lived on another continent. There wasn’t much chance of me being involved.”

  Mary puts a hand on his arm. “But now’s your chance.”

  “She needs your help,” I say, in case he hasn’t already taken the hint. “And Bob is awful, since you asked. She hung on too long because he knew stories about your father.”

  Rick looks thoughtful. “I know a few of those, too. They’re not all good, though.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” I insist. “She’d like to hear them.”

  “Have you two been together a long time?” Mary asks.

  The question makes me chuckle. “Not exactly. Three or four months, depending how you count. But it’s been a really tough few months for both of us. Like dog years. But we’re hanging in there.” It’s true, too—I feel like I’ve been close to Lianne for years. And I plan to be.

  “I like the way you stick up for her,” Mary says.

  “Who wouldn’t stick up for her?” I ask. Lianne appears again, and when she reaches the table I raise my arm to let her slide in next to me.

  Then a waitress appears and asks to take our order. “I’ll go last,” Lianne says, scanning the menu. “I can choose quickly.”

  I let Mary and Rick order first.

  “I’ll have the fried chicken,” I say, passing my menu to the waitress. “And it comes with some kind of fancy mac and cheese?”

  The waitress winks. “You don’t want to miss it.”

  “I’ll have the salmon salad,” Lianne says, handing the menu over.

  “Excuse me,” I say before the waitress can walk away. “Could I have a side of mac and cheese?”

  She frowns. “You have one coming already?”

  “Yes, but I believe I need a second one.”

  “Yessir,” she says, turning away.

  “That’s for me, isn’t it?” Lianne asks, reaching for her Diet Coke.

  “Uh huh. I’m happy to share with you, but only up to a point.”

  She looks up at Mary. “I just started eating carbs again. And sometimes I get a little frenzied.”

  Rick laughs. “I dragged you all the way to the city for lunch. Seems as good a time as any to indulge.”

  “Good point.” Lianne relaxes against me. “Now let’s hear all about your wedding.”

  * * *

  Two hours later, we are cuddling in the back of Reggie’s limo on the way back to Harkness. Lianne is talking to me, telling me her plans.

  I’m kissing her neck.

  “—And then maybe something by an independent director. Somebody who takes risks.”

  “Mmm hmm.” I kiss the spot just under her ear.

  “Are you listening?”

  “Yup. Independent director. Taking risks.” I suck her earlobe into my mouth, and she melts against me.

  “That is so distracting.”

  “Mmm hmm.” I skim the shell of her ear with my lips.

  “Deej,” she whispers, shivering. “What are you doing?”

  “Just celebrating. A little bit.”

  “We can’t…in the back of Reggie’s car.” She moves a little closer anyway.

  “M’kay. But we can pre-party.”

  “Pre-party?”

  “You know—loosen up. Do some stretches.”

  She giggles. “And then when we get home…”

  “Nope,” I tell her. “Break time, then. I have to go to hockey practice.”

  She lifts her head. “You do? Really?”

  “Yeah. I got the text just as we were heading into the restaurant. I don’t know what it all means. Maybe they won’t need me this weekend, but I’m happy to show up and work out with them.”

  Lianne is practically bouncing on the seat now. “That’s awesome. Should I buy tickets to the finals at Lake Placid?” She whips out her phone.

  “Don’t jinx me,” I say quickly. “Can you wait?”

  She looks up. “Wow, really? You’re superstitious? You told me you weren’t. On that first night we walked back from the rink.”

  I hesitate. “Not often.”

  Lianne explodes with laughter. “Omigod, seriously? How is that different from not saying the name of the Scottish play?”

  Busted. “Okay, fine. It’s the same thing. I’m a hypocrite.”

  “You’re the best one, though.” She crawls in my lap and kisses me.

  And I realize I don’t need to play in any more games. I already won the only one that matters.

  * * *

  Thank you for reading The Fifteenth Minute!

  Are you ready for some big news about the series?There’s going to be a spin-off! Some of your Ivy Years friends have graduated to the NHL. Book #1 of the new series will appear in 2016. Do you want to know who it’s about?

  If Yes: visit the hidden spin-off page on Sarina’s website.

  If No: Sign up for Sarina Bowen’s regular mailing list to be notified of sales & other new books.

  Also By Sarina Bowen

  The Gravity Series:

  Coming In
From the Cold #1

  Falling From the Sky #2

  Shooting For the Stars #3

  And:

  HIM by Sarina Bowen and Elle Kennedy

  The Ivy Years:

  The Year We Fell Down #1

  The Year We Hid Away #2

  Blonde Date #2.5

  The Understatement of the Year #3

  The Shameless Hour #4

  The Fifteenth Minute #5

  Copyright 2015, Sarina Bowen

  Cover design by Shannon Lumetta

  Cover photograph by f r a n c k r e p o r t e r via iStockphoto

  Unlicensed distribution of this ebook file constitutes copyright infringement under the US Copyright Act. Please respect the hard work of this author.

  ISBN: 978-1-942444-09-1