by MK Meredith
Happy.
He felt like shit.
All romance had brought him was a deep ache in his gut and a burning in his chest—and he couldn’t blame it on the scotch.
He’d always prided himself on being a strong man, self-assured and confident, but the way he’d acted earlier proved he was a weak man. One little misunderstanding and he was throwing insults like punches in a bar.
Seven loved him. This intelligent, feisty, dirty-mouthed woman, who’d made him live more in two days than he had in the last thirty-some years. She loved him, and he’d fucked himself of any chance of seeing if it could actually be real.
He stopped in the middle of the crowded lobby floor. The room spun around him in jewel-colored fabrics and lights, the rings and clicks of slot machines mixing with the laughter and squeals of delight. People moved around him, but he couldn’t take one more step.
He was terrified. He’d been so afraid of believing love was real, because if it was real, it could be lost. And he’d be in the same place his mother had been, losing her battle, losing her life, living just long enough to see her husband move on to make another life with someone else. No looking back, little more than a wave in his rearview.
From that point on he’d never once questioned his belief that love was a sham. He didn’t want the pain, didn’t want the fear of losing.
But he hurt, and he’d lost. True, deep loss.
Something this excruciating had to be real.
It was time to be his own man. Whatever position he held at work, whatever woman he chose to make a life with, needed to be what he wanted, what he valued, not a fucked-up expectation of his father’s. His mother’s smiling face came to his mind, clearer than any picture. Weight he’d carried for years fell from his shoulders as he held on to her smile. She loved him, no matter what he did, even from the other side.
He pulled his shoulders back and breathed deeply. What he needed to do now required a clear head.
Seven was an intelligent, beautiful force. She was the author of a book he couldn’t put down, and she’d become the best of everything in his life overnight.
She’d been right. Romance novels could teach a man a thing or two, if he was smart enough to open his mind and really see.
An idea formed, and Blake weaved through the crowds, making his way back to his room. He had some work to do, and he didn’t have much time, but hopefully, if this worked, he’d have the rest of his life.
Six smoothed one more hair into place. “There now. You look stunning.”
Seven smiled, but her heart clung to the floor of her chest, too heavy to perk up. She pulled in a breath.
“He’s an ass, but he’ll come around.”
Seven shook her head. “No, I don’t think he will, and honestly it’s for the better. I thought I could be with him even though he didn’t respect my writing, but I can’t. You should have heard him.” But she respected herself, her work, her beliefs, and that’s what counted. She’d go to this ball, enjoy her fans, dance, and tell every person she met about how strong love really could be.
Six stepped around her sister to adjust her own dress in the mirror. “I’d love to know, but every time you try to tell me you start to cry. That doesn’t sound like ‘for the better’ to me. He was angry, Seven, about what we don’t know exactly, but don’t you think you should find out?”
She shook her head. Tonight was about love. Pulling her shoulders back, Seven turned her head from side to side looking in the mirror. “I love my hair. Thank you.” Her hair was styled high on her head with loose tendrils falling here and there. The effect was stunning, and Seven focused on that instead of the man who turned her heart into nothing more than a lead weight.
Her low halter neckline showed off her shoulders, and the high slit of the ivory Grecian-style dress showed off her toned legs with every step. She wore strappy gold heels that wove up her ankle and tied on the side, and a matching belt that cinched her waist to impossible proportions.
Her sister’s dress complemented Seven’s plunging neckline and longer style with a high-necked, short style of her own in ice blue and silver. “Six, you look gorgeous.”
Six grinned. “I do, don’t I?” Laughing, she grabbed their purses and pulled Seven along behind her. “Come on. This is what I came here for.” She looked quickly to Seven. “You’re the main reason of course, but a ball, male models, and champagne make for a really tight second.”
They made their way down to the ballroom. She’d wanted to linger outside Blake’s door, but refused the temptation. Six dragged her down the hallway, through the lobby, and on to the escalators to the second floor.
They entered the ballroom and Six gasped, twirling with her arms out. “This is fabulous. Almost makes me want to be a writer just for the parties.” Her brow puckered in a bit of a frown. “Too bad I’d gouge my eyes out sitting at a damn computer all day.” A quick grin replaced the frown. “But that’s what I have you for.”
Seven could barely keep up with Six’s rapid speech and blinked when her sister once more slipped her arm through hers.
“Come on, let’s get some punch.”
Seven wound her way among beautiful dresses of every color and every style. It was like a snapshot of the red carpet at the Oscars. Slowing as they reached the punch bowl, Six picked up two poured glasses and handed one to Seven.
She lifted the cup to her lips only to have it taken from her hand.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Nathaniel whispered from her side.
“Oh, hey. You look amazing.”
He tweaked his bow tie. “Thank you. I love a great tux.” He stepped back and took in her look with a low wolf whistle. “Someone has pulled out all the stops tonight.”
She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder toward her sister. “It was all Six’s doing. For all the pep talks I keep giving myself, deep down, I’d rather be in bed with a box of tissues and P.S. I Love You right now and save the rah-rah for tomorrow.”
“And I’d be right there with you, my friend, but then we’d miss this.” He spread his hand out to the crowd of amazing writers and adoring fans. “And that would be a shame. Because this is what you’ve worked so hard for.”
Seven couldn’t understand how she’d missed the fact that he was gay before this weekend, though he never let his guard down back home. To think of all the nights she’d pined for him. All the jars of peanut butter she’d drowned her unrequited feelings in. She punched him in the shoulder.
“Hey! What was that for?”
She ignored the question. “Why did you take my drink?”
He waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “Oh, I saw the one and only Patricia Plimpton by the punch bowl slipping a flask back into her clutch. You have responsibilities to your readers, an interview or two, I don’t want you to lose your head. Just in case.”
“And my sister?” Seven pointed over to Six, who danced in place, tipping her cup back to finish it off.
“She’s got a free pass. She flew out here to be with you. Let’s give her a fun night.”
He grabbed her arm. “Oh my God, I almost forgot. You will never believe what I saw.”
Around here, she’d believe anything. “What?”
“Let’s just say, he had quite the rack on him. And I swear, I don’t know if it was a boa or dyed chest hair.”
“What are you talking about?”
“My friend, I wish I knew. I stumbled upon it all and hightailed it out of there before I could get dragged in.” He shook his head as if he was confused, when she didn’t even know where to begin.
Seven scowled as she eyed the punch, wishing she could dunk her head in it. “Six has all the fun, and apparently, so do you.” She elbowed him gently in the side.
He scoffed. “Yeah, right. Having adoring fans write you fan mail and clamor for your autograph is no fun at all.”
She looked at the table she was hosting. Her fans had left a stack of books for her to sign. They introduced themselve
s to one another, bonding over their mutual love of Sevannah Michaels. Pulling her shoulders back, she nodded. “You’re right. I’m being such a baby.”
“Doesn’t mean getting through tonight will be easy, but you still have a lot to be happy about. Remember that as you try not to think about your tall, dark, and handsome.”
She needed to put Blake out of her mind and enjoy the evening. She hurt, but thanks to him, she was stronger than ever. She believed in love and romance more than she ever had. Now that she knew how it felt to really lose at love, she was less afraid.
Her happy ever after was simply waiting for her to write it.
She smiled. Nights like tonight were one of the reasons she was a writer. The connection with fans, the stories about how her words made a difference in their lives, and making new friends. So many opportunities to share her happy ever afters. What more could she want?
Her shoulders dropped. Blake. That’s what more she could want.
“Keep an eye on Six. Show her where we’re sitting, would you?”
She left Nathaniel and made her way over to her table, giving a little shimmy and shake for the sake of her fans. “Hey there ladies, who’s joining me on the dance floor?”
A few choruses of “hell yeah” joined her own “Whoo hoo!” as she led them to the middle of the floor. Music blared overhead, and Seven shook her ass to the beat. She might not be able to get Blake out of her mind, but she sure as hell could get lost in a song that celebrated her assets.
She whirled around with her arms over head, laughing with her new friends as they all followed suit. Readers were the best at raising her spirits. A warm flush nudged at the heaviness in her chest.
The music changed to the low, trilling piano keys of Lo-Fang’s version of “You’re the One That I Want,” and an image of Blake made her still.
What the hell was she going to do? She couldn’t keep bouncing back and forth all night long. It was exhausting, but everything made her think of him, hurt for him.
She pulled her shoulders back and continued to dance. She thought of the first time she’d met him and what a good sport he’d been. She could see his grin, feel his touch, and smell his warmth, and she smiled.
So much of the beauty of love was only truly recognized after losing it.
Chapter Eleven
Blake stepped through the ballroom doors and adjusted his bow tie for the umpteenth time. There was a very good chance Seven would tell him to go fuck himself, but he had to try to fix the ridiculous mess he’d made out of an unbelievable situation.
If anyone had suggested he’d ever fall in love, much less in a matter of days, he’d have dialed 911 convinced they’d lost their minds, but here the fuck he was. The idea of checking out of the hotel tomorrow without Seven made him break into a sweat. This plan had to work.
He was nothing if not persuasive, the exact reason he was now the youngest VP in his company. Another thank-you owed to the woman he loved.
Scanning the crowd, his eyes settled on Seven out on the dance floor. His blood rushed in his head at the sight of her and the reality of what was at stake. He wasn’t sure if his plan would work, and he prayed for the first time in his life as he made his way toward the front of the opulent room.
Nathaniel joined him. “Figure it out?”
Blake gave one quick nod. “Fuck, I hope so. Don’t let her leave.”
Nathaniel grinned. “I won’t.”
Blake made his way to the stage, heart thundering in his chest. He studied her as he went. The usual light in her eyes was missing, and it was his fault.
He took solace in the fact that her sadness might mean she really did love him. Hopefully it would be enough for her to give him another chance. Because she’d been giving to him since she met him, and he wanted the chance to give back to her for a long, long time. There was no other way to show her she’d changed his life.
Rounding the edge of the stage, he took the stairs in two strides.
A few curious glances fell on him, but nothing more. Blood rushed in his ears with a deafening roar, but it was now or never. If he was as good a salesman as he believed he was, now was the time to prove it.
He cleared his throat into the microphone. “Excuse me. May I have your attention?”
The music stopped, leaving a ringing silence in its wake. He scanned the crowd until he found her. Her eyes widened and her hands flew to her chest.
“I made a bet with a woman you all know and adore. She said she could make a man fall for her using the rules in her novel Rules of Seduction. I pretty much told her she was out of her mind, but in a much more insulting way. Well, I lost that bet.”
Nathaniel steered Seven to the front of the crowd, flanking one side, and another woman flanked her other.
He stared down at her as tears filled her eyes, and it was everything he could do to keep from hopping off the stage and yanking her into his arms.
The crowd started to hum. Blake looked out over the colorful array of dresses and hopeful faces, and then back at Seven. He got it. The romance, the stories. Standing in front of the woman he loved, understanding the potential of what they had, he got it.
Sliding his gaze over her one more time, he spoke into the microphone. “And she won.”
Seven’s hand fluttered to her lips, and a questioning murmur rose from the crowd.
She shook her head.
“I love you, Sevannah Michaels.”
The crowd held its breath. Not a single sound was heard as Seven stared at him, worry and confusion all over her face.
The woman next to Seven nudged her shoulder and grinned.
He could have kissed whoever she was as she nodded her head at Seven.
“Seven, I’m in love with you, and I owe you an apology, so I made my own list of rules.” He cleared his throat. “Seven Ways to Win the One.”
Seven’s lips trembled.
He pulled a piece of paper from inside his jacket. “Rule number one, apologize. Rule number two, apologize often.” He held her gaze.
A small collective chuckle from the audience brought a smile to Seven’s lips.
“Rule number three, admit romance is an irresistible force.” His chest swelled when she gave the slightest hint of a smile.
“Rule number four, recognize that her success and her dreams are legitimate.”
He gave a small jerk of his head toward the roomful of people. “Everyone here is a testament to yours. Rule number five, learn from romance novels.”
Calls and whistles of agreement met his ears.
“Rule number six, view her as an equal partner. And my favorite rule, rule number seven borrowed from your Rules of Seduction—always kiss her like it’s the first time. Every time.”
He pocketed his list and walked to the edge of the stage. His heart slammed in his chest. This was it. He’d put it all on the line. It was the most sincere sales pitch he’d ever made. And the most important one he’d ever close, God willing.
Seven moved to the edge of the stage and, using Nathaniel for a boost, joined Blake. The expression on her face was unreadable. He couldn’t stand it.
As soon as she reached him, he braced himself.
With a smile, she wrapped her arms around his waist and slid her lips over his.
His shoulders sagged with relief, and he poured all of his regret and all of his hopes into the kiss.
The crowd broke into applause and shouts of encouragement.
He wanted to hold on forever and stretch the kiss out for an eternity; at least then he didn’t have to risk losing, because for the first time in his life he really knew fear.
He’d told her when they’d met that he’d never lost, but until her, he’d never had anything to lose.
Seven’s heart raced with her brain to figure out what was happening. Six practically ran to meet her as Blake led her off the stage.
With a slightly drunken scream, Six threw her arms around Seven’s neck. “I’m so happy for you.”
Seven squeezed her sister and then stepped back. “Don’t congratulate us quite yet. Six, this is Blake Turner. Blake, my sister, Six.”
He raised a brow.
“I nicknamed her when we were little. No way in hell she was getting a higher number than me.”
Six grinned and kissed Blake on the cheek, taking him by surprise. Seven pulled her back. “Okay, okay. Where’s Nathaniel? You need a babysitter.”
“I don’t.” Six couldn’t quite sell her indignation as she sidestepped to catch her balance. Nathaniel swooped in, answering Seven’s prayers, and guided her sister back onto the dance floor.
Six’s pout disappeared as he spun her into a dip.
Turning back to Blake, Seven studied his face. “I can’t believe you did that for me.”
“I’d do it all over again, and more.” He slid his fingers through hers, the warmth of his skin sending shivers up the length of her arms. “I made a terrible mistake, said terrible things, am all around pretty terrible.”
She nodded, not trusting her voice to answer.
He pulled her with him to the edge of the room. “I came looking for you today, to tell you how I felt. It was terrifying. I think I almost turned around no less than five times.”
She bit her lip against the hope bubbling low in her chest.
“I heard you tell your editor about the sucker you had to make fall in love with you, and then you found me in my room.”
Shaking her head, she gripped his hand tighter. “But I told him I was the sucker. I—”
“I know that, now. I ran into him down at the bar after I ran out of booze in my room.” He pulled her to him, and she could feel his heart beating in his chest.
“I was a complete ass. I was hurting and wanted to hurt you back. I didn’t mean anything I said.” He paused, pulling in a breath. “And I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I’m asking you to.”
He placed his hands on each cheek. “I love you, against all odds—and there were plenty. I’ve never been one to believe in love, but you’ve changed me. You’ve shown me.”
