Profound relief crossed the young man’s face. “Of course. Nice meeting you.” He beat a hasty retreat, closing the door behind him.
Julie’s smile faded when she turned back to him. “Let’s cut to the chase.”
He leaned against his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. “By all means.”
“I don’t like you.”
“Obviously.”
“In fact, I think you’re a bit of a jerk. But, in your defense, Megan hasn’t exactly been firing on all cylinders lately, so part of that might be a simple reaction to her irrational behavior. Since you’re mostly to blame for that behavior, though, you’re still a jerk.”
“Is there a point you’d like to make, Dr. Moss, or do you just expect me to stand here and allow you to continue to insult me in my own office?”
“As delightful as that sounds, I know that’s not likely to happen. Granted, Megan hasn’t been the poster child of mental health recently, but I was actually on your side.”
“You’ll pardon me if I find that difficult to believe.”
“I was at first. I even argued on your behalf. Told her how irrational she was being, and we had a major breakthrough.”
That would have been after Megan left me. For the second time. Interesting.
“Of course, then you went and threw her under the bus on your show.”
Guilt nagged at him. He’d been hurt and lashed out. It didn’t make anything less true, but the execution had lacked finesse.
“After that,” Julie continued, ice dripping off her words, “I couldn’t get her out of town fast enough. Hence me being stuck with this table in my living room where I’ve been tripping over it for the last couple of weeks.”
A slightly guilty conscience didn’t require him to listen to more of this. “And now you’ve done your job.” He walked to the door and opened it. “Thank you, Dr. Moss.”
Julie opened her mouth as if she wanted to say more, then closed it with a snap. “You’re welcome, Mr. Kenney.”
As she passed him, though, she stopped and eyed him from head to toe as if she was sizing him up for a fight. “Know, however, that Megan does plan to come back to Chicago. And if she’s still after your blood then, I won’t talk her down.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’ll drive the getaway car?”
Julie shrugged. “Whatever she needs.” With a toss of her hair, she disappeared down the hall.
Devin closed his door and went back to his desk. Between Megan and her friend Julie, he had serious doubts about the relative sanity of so-called mental-health professionals. Craziness seemed to be a prerequisite for the job.
At least at one point, someone—other than him—had been trying to convince Megan she was overreacting. He could take a small bit of satisfaction in that.
However small. And cold.
But Julie’s words about Megan being out for blood shocked him more than he wanted to admit. That side of Megan was new. Along with that backbone she’d grown in the past few years, she’d learned to carry a grudge, as well. She wasn’t the same Megan he used to know, that was for sure.
That thought stopped him. Megan wasn’t the same. She was a different person. He’d accepted and appreciated her new confidence but not that she wanted to be treated as an equal, instead of being taken care of. How had he managed to miss that?
He hadn’t missed it; he’d ignored it. She’d told him directly numerous times and it hadn’t sunk in. Seemed he was as hardheaded as Megan accused him of being. When faced with the possibility of reconciliation, he’d expected them to pretty much pick up where they’d left off—at least where they’d been before he asked her to move to Chicago. He’d enjoyed her new backbone and attitude, but hadn’t processed the fact that it meant she wasn’t the Megan he used to know.
Insanity was doing the same thing over again and expecting a different result. He’d expected something different and then been surprised when he’d gotten the exact result as last time: Megan gone.
Either the crazy was contagious or he deserved every insult Megan hurled his way.
And it was pretty clear he wasn’t crazy.
The only real question was whether or not there was anything left to salvage out of this mess.
Thursday was becoming Megan’s least favorite day. There was a sound reason she didn’t like a client list packed full of substance abusers, and Thursday was the day she had groups back-to-back-to-back. The host of other problems the substance abuse caused—with spouses, children, the law—was both depressing and demoralizing. Depressing because she got so tired of seeing families torn apart over it, and demoralizing because there was often so little she could do to really help. Most of the time the damage was done and she was just trying to help pick up the pieces. Not every counselor was made to counsel every kind of client. She knew that.
But it was tougher than usual right now. Rationally, she knew her feelings were being compounded by the sad state of her personal life. She didn’t really have much of one to speak of.
She’d been so busy at the clinic since she arrived she hadn’t had time to make any friends or even explore the town. What little free time she had, she was usually so exhausted or brain dead all she wanted to do was watch TV. She talked to her mom, and Julie called to keep her up-to-date on things in Chicago, but otherwise…
She was bored. She was lonely.
And she was pregnant.
It seemed there really was no end to the upheaval and chaos Devin Kenney could bring to her life.
Moving here hadn’t gotten Dev off her mind; no matter how much she tried to focus on her job and lose herself in the work, he was always there, poking around the edges of her concentration. And if that wasn’t enough, he seemed to haunt her dreams, leaving her feeling empty and frustrated in the mornings.
In fact, she’d almost ignored the fact she’d missed her period, assuming it was just stress and obsession over Dev manifesting in physical ways. How wrong she was.
She couldn’t get Dev out of her mind, and now she was carrying his baby in her body, as well. His hold on her was permanent now.
Like it wasn’t already.
They’d talked about having kids. Even discussed some baby names, although to no one’s surprise, they’d never managed to come to an agreement.
Did the universe hate her? After falling in love with Devin, spending seven years trying to get over him, then falling in love with him again only to lose him again, she got pregnant with his child now?
It was enough to make her want to pull her hair out.
At least she was being honest with herself. She was in love with Devin again and realizing she’d probably never really gotten over him in the first place. Having that understanding would help her get through this—even if it didn’t make it hurt any less.
And this hurt a lot. No amount of self-therapy could help. Even having Julie admit she’d been wrong and come fully onto her side didn’t help. The misery ran deep.
Somehow, amazingly enough, this time seemed to hurt more than last time. Even though she was fueled by the same righteous indignation, it didn’t provide much solace this time. Being right in principle had helped before, but now it was cold comfort—and not even much of that, since she wasn’t even sure she was right in principle now. Or that she cared who was right or wrong in the first place.
She was completely miserable, and the only thing that kept her from driving back to Chicago to tell Devin that was the knowledge—in his own words—that he considered her a mistake.
That cut to the quick.
She wondered how long it would take for the pain to lessen enough for her to talk to Devin without admitting she’d been stupid and wrong and begging for another chance. She’d have to talk to him eventually. She had to tell him about the baby. This wasn’t the kind of thing she could just keep to herself. It wouldn’t be fair to Devin or the baby—or her, either. She’d just have to suck it up and deal.
Eventually. Right now she wanted to wa
llow. It was easier. Going to bed and getting today over with sounded like the best plan ever. She could wallow herself to sleep.
Julie’s ring tone blared on the end table behind her. Without opening her eyes she reached for her phone.
“What’s up, Ju—”
“Turn on your radio. Now.”
The urgency in Julie’s voice spurred her into action even as she sputtered questions. “Why? What’s going on?”
“It’s Devin. You’ve got to hear this.”
“Dev’s show isn’t on tonight,” she argued even as she searched for the channel.
“He’s doing an interview with Bruce Malaney and now they’re talking about you.”
Megan’s heart crawled into her throat. Bruce Malaney shared his philosophy of anything-for-ratings with Kate and her ilk. Was there no end to this? The static finally cleared, and she turned the volume up.
Devin’s voice came out of the speakers and curled through her as he spoke. At least he didn’t sound angry. “…not really speaking to each other right now, as I’m sure you can imagine, but I hear she’s doing well.”
“That info came from me,” Julie said.
“Shh! I can’t hear.”
“Of course,” Bruce said, “your recent relationship with her was major news.”
Dev laughed. “I’m not sure I’d use the word news, but it was something people took an interest in. I’m feeling more sympathy for celebrities and their relationships now, though, that’s for sure.”
Bruce and his listeners might not catch the edge to Devin’s voice, but Megan heard it loud and clear.
“People are speculating that Megan Lowe might be indirectly or directly responsible for ending your show.”
What? “Julie, what’s this about Devin’s show?” Megan asked.
“They talked about that earlier.” Julie spoke quickly. “Cover Your Assets is being overhauled somehow. Devin was cagey about what it would be when it returned….”
Megan couldn’t listen to Julie and Devin both. “Shh.”
“The only thing Megan is responsible for,” Devin said, “is opening my eyes to details I’ve been missing, both personally and professionally. In its current format, Cover Your Assets has really outlived its original purpose. I’ve found out you can’t really help people with quick, pithy sound bites during a ten-minute radio conversation.”
Megan bit her lip in disbelief.
“So what is next for you, Devin?” Bruce asked. “You evaded the question earlier, so I’m going to pin you down now.”
Devin took a deep breath. “I don’t want to get stuck in a rut. This situation with Megan showed me I was headed there. People fear change, but change opens doors and adds possibilities. I’m going to explore some possibilities.”
Megan was feeling light-headed and realized it was because she was holding her breath. Somehow, though, she couldn’t get her lungs working properly.
Bruce laughed. “Sounds like your next book will be a self-help tome.”
“I think the last few weeks have proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that I’m the last person who should be handing out advice to people on how to manage their lives. I’ll leave that to the experts like Megan.”
“Megan, did you hear that?” Julie asked breathlessly, but Megan couldn’t find her voice through her shock. “Megan?”
“We’re going to take a short break. We’ll be back with more from divorce expert and newly minted legal crusader Devin Kenney in a few minutes. I’m Bruce Malaney and this is Clear the Air.”
Megan couldn’t believe her ears. There was no way she’d heard that right. Wishful thinking obviously led to auditory hallucinations. Or maybe early pregnancy had her hearing what she wanted to hear. Because if what Dev had just said was real…
“Megan!” Julie’s shout finally broke through, and Megan slapped the volume down as the show went to commercial.
“I’m here. Did you hear what I just heard?”
“Oh, my God, yes. That was practically a public apology. Not to mention a hell of a shout-out to the counseling prowess of Dr. Megan.”
“So you don’t think I’m reading too much into that.”
“Read more into it, honey. There’s no way Devin could be sure you were listening, so that wasn’t for your benefit. You need to call him.”
“And say what?”
“Start with ‘I’m sorry for being psycho’ and go from there.”
Now that the paralysis had passed, Megan felt full of restless energy. She hauled herself to her feet and started to pace. “I have his cell. I could call him tonight after the show. Apologize. See if any of that was an olive branch.”
“Excellent idea.”
“But what if it’s not? What if he’s just putting a good face on all this for the sake of the masses? Like you said, there’s no way he could guarantee I’d be listening tonight.”
“You won’t know until you talk to him, now, will you?”
She needed to find out. Especially considering… She laid a hand on her stomach. She needed to find out what Dev meant with all of that before she told him about the baby.
And out of nowhere, a little spark of hope flared in the darkness.
Possibilities, indeed. Suddenly there were a whole lot of possibilities to explore, and some of those possibilities now held a golden, promising glow.
“I do need to talk to Devin.” But I need to see his face while I do it.
“Duh. That’s what I’ve been saying.”
“Let me make a few phone calls.” Megan was already mentally rearranging her schedule. “Can I crash at your place tonight?”
“You’re coming in? Tonight?”
“Yeah. I’ll go see Devin in the morning before his show.”
“You’re a brave girl.”
She didn’t feel brave. If she was reading the wrong meaning into Dev’s words, she would regret it—horribly—tomorrow.
But right now there was the possibility she wouldn’t.
Devin had one eye on the clock as he halfheartedly dispensed advice to his listeners. So far, the calls had been pretty evenly split between questions about his announcement that the show would be undergoing some major changes and the news of Hollywood’s latest power-couple breakup.
Despite his best attempts to steer the discussion away from the couple’s private life, that was exactly what the audience wanted to speculate about. He wasn’t going to add fuel to that fire if he could at all help it, so he was trying to shift the focus to prenuptial agreements in general.
Paula-from-Milwaukee seemed awfully distraught for someone who had no real stake in the possible settlement, and he bit back the urge to tell her to seek counseling about her overinvestment in the lives of people she didn’t even know. “Paula, I haven’t seen their prenup, so I have no idea how it’s worded, but California law does not recognize adultery as grounds for divorce.”
“But if she’s sleeping with her costar…”
Twenty more minutes and this show would be over. He still had a long drive to Carbondale ahead of him and possibly a long night if Megan decided to be stubborn or nurse her grudge. His patience was wearing thin, and he motioned to Mike, Kate’s replacement, that this call needed to be wrapped up. “Let’s not speculate about the private lives of others, okay? I think the point we need to take away from this is that prenuptial agreements aren’t always ironclad.”
Mike was quick on the draw. “Let’s find a new caller and see what other topics are out there. I personally would like to talk about that case in Michigan where the couple is fighting over custody of the parrot, but…”
Sixteen minutes left. “Pick a caller, Mike.”
“Here’s a lady who’s been waiting patiently in the queue for a while now. You’re on the air, caller.”
“Finally,” a voice Devin recognized muttered. “This is Megan, and, um, I’m from Carbondale.”
Astonished, Devin looked through the window at Mike, who simply shrugged unhelpfully. After all this t
ime, Megan called his show? What the…?
“Hello? Hello? Did I get disconnected? Damn.”
“No, you’re on the air, Megan.” Treat her like you would any other caller. “Do you have a question or a comment?”
“Both, actually. I heard your interview last night.” She laughed, but it lacked any real humor. “Since I’m not exactly a regular listener, most of that was news to me.”
“And?” he prompted.
“So my question is about possibilities. Like the ones you mentioned last night.”
Devin tried to remember exactly what he’d said.
“I’m usually a big fan of possibilities, and in my line of work I kinda have to be, but recently I’ve had some trouble with the idea.”
“That’s the thing about possibilities. Once you start questioning them, you start cutting off options.”
“Yes, Devin, I know that,” Megan snapped, but then seemed to remember where she was. “I mean—” she tried again with a different tone “—how do you know when you’ve totally crossed a possibility off your list?”
Outside the booth’s main window, a crowd was gathering. Staff had come out of their cubicles to gather around the booth and its speaker. In his booth, Mike moved at high speed between phone and computer, looking as if he was under siege. A glance at his own computer screen told him why: Mike was.
The call lines were lit up like a Christmas tree and the hold queue had reached new lengths. Comments were already getting posted on his website bulletin board under a brand-new thread titled “Dr. Megan is back—now!”
This is not how I planned to have a conversation with Megan today. He was still forming his plan of attack and had rather counted on the ride to southern Illinois to flesh it out. But what he said here could have massive repercussions later tonight. “I’m not sure I’m the right person to come to with that question, Megan. I specialize in divorce, not—”
“No, you’re the right person. I’m not using a generic ‘you’ here in my question. I mean how do you, Devin Kenney, decide a possibility has been totally removed from the list?”
Girls' Guide to Flirting with Danger Page 15
