I smile with happiness that he doesn’t let male pride stand in the way of good sense. “You’re welcome.”
Nick is sensible. He’s the one who would make sure I worked out before ski season to lessen soreness. He helped me learn better eating habits, and I don’t think he’s ever had too much to drink.
I think about how I haven’t exercised in months. The amount of vegetables I’ve consumed lately is seriously lacking, and then there’s the matter of sleep or taking time off to recharge. I’ve been neglecting my overall health, and it’s time to stop.
I sit up and say to Drew, “I think we need to take the rest of today and do something fun. I need exercise, healthy food, and time to enjoy myself. What do you say?”
His eyes light up, and I remember the guy I could easily sway when it came to fun. “I say yes.”
“Wonderful. Let’s get lost in Paris. We can stop at a café when our feet are tired.” Excitement courses through my veins at the change in plans. I ask, “Are you up for a dinner of champagne and cheese?” I should probably add a salad to that too.
“Of course.”
“Excellent.” I lean back and let the satisfaction of taking action chase some of my sadness away.
Drew tells the driver to take us back to the hotel so we can change. I hadn’t planned on doing anything that required casual clothing, but I did pack yoga pants and sneakers. And I’m going to revel in being makeup free for a while.
A half hour later, I bounce down the levels of steps to the lobby, looking like the Megan I was last winter. Drew grumbles behind me for making him take the stairs. I say, “I’m hungry. Let’s do food before we wander around.”
“Sounds good to me.”
We make our way out of the hotel and into the busy street. Not quite New York, Paris still has the feel of a city full of life. We walk by shops and cafés tucked into side streets. A man with a camera catches my eye when he rushes across the street to our side, and I turn around to notice a few people who look suspiciously like paparazzi.
I whisper. “Don’t look now, but we’re being followed.” Drew swears under his breath and points at a café.
“Over there. Once we get inside, we should be safe.”
As we approach the door, a clever reporter slips in front of me, and I step back. I turn to leave, and he snakes his way around to be in front of me again as my back is to the restaurant. He speaks loudly, “Miss Donovan, you’re not wearing makeup. Why not? Surely you’ve seen The It Girl?”
Drew steps in front of me as cameras flash, but I nudge him aside and speak softly. “I’ve got it.”
I step forward and notice a crowd forming as I address the reporter. “Yes. That’s correct. I’m not wearing a stitch of makeup. But I am wearing sunscreen.”
Another reporter asks, “Don’t you use your products?”
“Of course I do.” I glance at the original reporter and mimic his tone. “Surely you’ve seen my pictures?” Low chuckles come from the crowd, and when they fade, I say, “A Bellae woman loves her skin because she knows how to take care of it. We appreciate that we have the choice to wear makeup when we wish or to let our natural beauty glow.”
A woman reporter yells, “Miss Donovan, you say you’re trying to reach younger women with your products. What advice do you have for young girls about makeup?”
“Makeup is meant to be flirty and fashionable. I say experiment with it, make it fun, and never be afraid to do without, because what’s underneath is what really matters.”
Drew steps in front of me. “That’s enough. Miss Donovan would like to drink champagne and enjoy Paris.”
The maître d’ waves his arms at the reporters and cameramen as he says something in French. He turns to me to offer apologies and leads us to a small, private courtyard that has only three tables. The silence is pleasant, and I thank him for the special treatment before he leaves us alone.
I take a deep breath as we wait for the server. “Well, that was interesting.” The wrought iron of my chair is cool under my hands as I rest my arms.
“That was amazing. You just set up the new line perfectly.”
I grin. “I have my moments of brilliance.”
Drew grabs his phone. “I’m calling Alex. She’s going to love this.”
She’s going to wish she’d been here. The words I spoke earlier give me an idea. As Drew begins to talk to my sister, I grab my phone and make a note. Fun, flirty, fashionable, formal, functional. I’ve got our new campaign.
The waiter approaches us with a bucket of ice that contains a bottle, and it thumps as he sets it down on the table. He says, “Compliments of the house. Enjoy the champagne.”
I smile up at him because I most certainly will.
Chapter 23
After an exhausting week, I’m sick. Drew fussed over me on the plane, and now I’m in my town car, trying to keep the contents of my stomach down until I get home. I had hoped it was something I’d eaten or a twenty-four-hour bug, but I’m on my second day, and I suspect I’ve got the flu.
My forehead is damp with moisture as I climb out of the car with Reggie’s help. It’s a warm summer evening, but I shiver with my fever. He says, “Let me walk you to the door.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m going to go lie down, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course. I’ll set your things inside.”
“Thank you.” My legs ache, and it hurts for me to move as I make my way in the house. A light is on in the kitchen, and I wonder if Nick fell asleep on the couch. It’s early evening, and he should have heard me arrive. I start in that direction but don’t make it before I have to race to the bathroom to vomit.
Ceramic tile is cold under my bottom as I lean against the wall to wait for the nausea to pass. I can’t possibly have anything else left to come up, but my stomach refuses to accept it. I hear you, body. I’m convinced it’s telling me to take better care of myself. The hours I’ve been keeping aren’t healthy, and I recall how I vowed to make a change in Europe. But after that one afternoon in Paris, I didn’t.
When my belly feels reasonably stable, I make my way to the kitchen for water. I glance at the couch and don’t see Nick. But I do notice a white envelope on the counter. The paper is smooth in my fingers as I lift it and discover my name on the front. My throat tightens because it’s Nick’s handwriting.
My hands shake as I open it, and it’s what I feared. Nick left early because he thought it would be easier on both of us. A gasp comes from me, and I crumple to the floor, clutching the note in my hand. It’s too much, and I lay my cheek on the smooth wood as tears flow.
When I begin to shake again from cold, I force myself to get up and medicate. I don’t bother going upstairs but curl up on the couch for the night. Somehow I manage to sleep and wake to the early-morning sun rising over the ocean.
I sit up and am weak from dehydration and hunger. But my fever is gone, and I feel better than I have in days. I pad slowly over to the refrigerator for juice. Nick’s letter is on the floor, and after I pour myself a drink, I bend down to pick it up. The paper rustles as I smooth it out on the counter. While I had expected to see him before he left, this is easier. I recall how painful the days were when I thought I was leaving him in Colorado. I get why he left, and a part of me is actually relieved.
Sugary citrus races to my bloodstream as I drink my juice. I glance out at the entryway and at the large box that contains Nick’s bike. The shop in Italy packaged it for the flight, and I had envisioned Nick’s capable fingers piecing it together for his first ride. I smile, imagining how much joy it will bring him, even if I don’t get to watch.
When I’m done with my drink, I go find my purse and locate my phone. The camera clicks as I take a picture of the box to send to Nick. I text it, and then I follow up with words.
I brought you a surprise from Italy. It’s custom, so you have to accept it. I’ll ship it to the Bike Shop for you.
I don’t expect an answer right away, because he’s proba
bly driving through Ohio about now, so I’m surprised when my phone buzzes almost instantly.
You’ll be shocked to know I made a bathroom stop fifteen minutes into my trip. Can I guess what’s in the box?
Sure. I hope you got a snack. It’s the rule.
Nick sends a picture of himself taking a bite of a jelly donut, and it makes me chuckle.
He texts again. Sorry I left before you came back. It hurt too much to stay.
I understand.
He doesn’t text back right away. I think he might be driving again, so I make my way to the kitchen. I grab a product proposal and barely get past the Bellae logo before a reply lights up my screen. Are there wheels in that box?
Yes. Of course he would recognize a bike box.
How did you know?
I have my ways. Remember the good times when you’re on it, okay? My eyes burn with moisture, and I let the tears fall.
All my memories of us are good. I’ll always love you.
Same. My phone snaps off, and I set it down as my heart aches for the man I thought was forever. My tears splatter on my proposal, and I swipe them away as more fall.
* * *
After a hot bath and a breakfast of eggs and toast, I feel human again. I had already arranged to take today off when I was sick, and I use the time to formulate a plan to regain my health. I decide I can go into the office each day in exercise gear and bring my clothes since I have a shower in my office bathroom. Eating well isn’t hard, because I only have to tell Krissy, and she’ll take care of it. The difficult part will be working fewer hours.
Alex can’t take on anything else, and I wonder if I should hire someone. Then it hits me. Drew. He already does more than an assistant would and can easily slide into the job if I hire someone new to do the mundane tasks.
I call Alex, and she picks up right away to say, “Are you alive?”
“Barely, but I’m feeling much better today. Miss me?”
“Of course.”
“I need to see you. Would you come out to the house and have dinner with me?”
“Sure. What’s this about?”
“I have an idea for an advertising campaign, and I want your input. I also want to talk to you about promoting Drew. I need to slow down and take care of myself.”
“I think that’s a good idea. I can be there by four to avoid traffic.”
“Perfect. Oh.” I sing the next words. “I got you a present.”
Alex squeals and says, “See you soon.”
I grin as I end the call, because I got her a piece of sexy lingerie from each country to share with her new guy.
I spend the morning outlining my advertising idea, and after a leisurely lunch on the deck and a short walk on the beach, I devote the afternoon to designating the tasks that I’ll pass on to Drew. I’m napping when Alex arrives.
I rub sleep out of my eyes as I sit up to greet her. She says, “What’s with the box in the hall?”
“It’s a custom bike for Nick. But he left before I got home, so I need to ship it.”
Alex sits next to me and puts her arm around my shoulder. “You okay?”
“I will be. But let’s not talk about it.” I get up and walk over to the table where I set all her presents. There are six in all, and the edges dig into my arms as I carry the pile to Alex. “Here.”
“Oh my gosh. I get a lot of presents. Yay.”
I watch as she opens them, and we make suggestive comments until we laugh. I think about Nick and how I never wore lingerie for him. He probably would have liked it, but I think he still would have preferred simply naked. My sister gushes on about her boyfriend, and I smile as I half listen. I wonder how I’ll manage being excited about a new man someday, and if I’ll compare him to Nick.
Alex stops the boyfriend talk to get down to business. She says, “Show me your new campaign ideas, and let me poke some holes.”
I smile at my sister and take a moment to be grateful for the people in my life. Because even though I just lost my greatest love, I am loved. And that tells me I’m going to be okay.
Chapter 24
With my arms stretched over my head, I flex my stomach and glance in the mirror. A hint of abs are showing, and it makes me grin. I’m back. Four months after I came back from Europe, and I’m fit again, get enough sleep most nights, and am eating better.
Promoting Drew was a fantastic decision, and he’s even better at this than I expected. I wiggle into my skirt as I run over the day’s events in my head. My first meeting is with marketing for our final Natural Girl launch campaign, slated to debut next week. It’s been a long time coming, but it’s going to be huge.
I begin my light makeup routine. Ever since my Paris encounter with the press went worldwide, I decided to save the full face of makeup for formal events. Tinted moisturizer is silky on my fingers as I apply it to my cheeks. Even Alex is on board with wearing our new line most days.
I slide my feet into low heels and take a final look at my appearance. For some reason, Nick’s voice sounds in my head. Turn ’em right. I whisper, “And left.” A small pang of pain flickers in my heart, and I take a deep breath. I imagine he’s enjoying the winter, and I wonder how much snow Breckenridge has.
I step out of my bathroom to Drew pacing the room as he speaks on the phone. “Fabulous. Thank you.”
His grin covers his face as he turns to me. “Press release afterward if we approve the campaign.”
I smile back. “You just wave your magic wand, and the press dances.”
He raises his eyebrows at me. “I can be quite charming.”
I glance over at my assistant, Rachelle. She has a huge crush on Drew, and even though he’s made it clear he would never do a workplace romance, it doesn’t stop him from taunting her. “Yes, you can,” I say.
We head toward my door, and Alex pops her head in. “Ready?”
I nod and take in her appearance when we get to the hall. She still favors sky-high heels, but her accessories and makeup are age appropriate and let her youth shine. I’ve even got her working out a few days a week, which is saying a lot, considering her idea of exercise for the past few years has been hailing a cab.
We enter the conference room, and I immediately notice the large images placed over the permanent ones. They are the magazine ads. Each one has a different caption, with the model wearing makeup that fits. The catchword is larger than the rest, and they read “Fun, Flirty, Functional, Formal, Fashionista, Fit.” I scan the room to take them in and say, “Fantastic.”
A couple people get my attempt at a joke and laugh politely. I smile. “Nobody ever called me a comedian. But I do love these.”
We move on to the television ads, and Alex and Drew are just as pleased as I am, judging by the comments they make. Bright lights flicker on, and I blink. “I think this is a go. Alex? Drew?”
Alex says, “Yes. This is very exciting.”
“I agree. It’s a big day for Bellae,” says Drew.
“Nice work, everyone. I’m proud to have you on my team.”
Rachelle takes my elbow and speaks quietly to me. The girl seems to have been born with the ability to be my invisible sidekick, because I forgot she was in the room. “The press are gathering already. Should I tell them fifteen minutes?”
“Yes. Thanks.”
I smile at Drew and Alex. “It’s almost show time. I’m going to go freshen up.”
We make our way to the large conference room used for events. A stage is set up for me, and cameras flash the moment I enter through a side door. The hum of conversation stops, and my steps seem unusually loud when I climb onto the platform. I used to be completely unnerved by the attention focused on me this way. But today my stomach is calm, and I smile with ease before I make my speech.
The questions aren’t hostile these days, either. I’ve hit a hot issue for young women, and the press likes the direction I’m taking Bellae. When the business questions are done and I’m about to leave the stage, I recognize one of
my biggest critics’ voice as she yells, “Megan! Why don’t you have a man in your life?”
I freeze in place, and she adds, “Your ski bum left you months ago.”
I fight the flush of anger rising in me and take a long, slow breath. I should ignore her, but the press will turn it into more than I want it to be. I turn with a smile. “Andrea, my personal life has never been a topic for discussion. Please remember that.”
The moment I exit the room, I huff. Drew takes my elbow to walk me to the elevator. He says, “Don’t worry, only Alex and I knew you were mad.”
“I know. I’m fine.” But I’m not. The truth is I’m not even close to being ready to date again. It’s a bit pathetic, but I love Nick as much today as I did four months ago. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to move on.
Alex is on my other side, and she hugs my shoulders in support. I welcome her touch and snuggle into the warmth. I do need to find a way to get over Nick, though. I miss having someone to comfort me when I need it. I miss sharing things with someone I love, and I don’t want to spend my life wishing for the one I can never have.
We return to my office to celebrate, and I force myself to leave the state of my love life hidden away. After one glass of champagne, Alex leaves us. It’s Friday night, and she has a date. I decide to send Rachelle home for the weekend too, considering I plan to be done for the day.
Drew sits down on the couch next to me with the champagne. He tops off our glasses and sets the empty bottle down on the table with a clatter. “I can’t wait to see the reactions tomorrow.”
“Let’s hope they’re good. We could bomb.” I lift my glass and take a sip of my drink. The flavor is sweet with a tart finish, and I sigh in pleasure.
“I don’t think so. The press loves your honesty.” Drew reaches over and tucks my hair behind my ear. His hand stays for a moment, and he stares at me. His voice is soft when he asks, “Come sail with me tomorrow night? I was thinking we could stare at the stars and dream big like we used to.”
Pulse: Sport Romance (The Boys of Winter Book 6) Page 12
