Written on Her Heart

by Paige Rion

  Smirking, he said, “She’ll hate that. Let’s do it. Anything to piss her off brings me joy.”

  “That we have in common,” Andi said, unable to suppress her glee at doing something to inconvenience Ms. Perry.

  “Okay, first things first, let’s go get you checked into my room.” He wagged his eyebrows.

  Andi scowled at him. “Don’t say it like that. I’m not checking into your room.”

  He raised his hands. “I know, I know. You’re just bunking on the couch.”

  “Exactly,” Andi said, but as she packed up her things and left for the lobby with Ford, she wondered what in the hell she was getting herself into.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Moments later, Ms. Perry had supposedly deposited one of Andi’s checks in her account and was on her way to the jail to bail out Carma. She hadn’t heard the conversation between the assistant and Ford, but Andi got the feeling it was quite a heated one. Either way, Carma was being taken care of, which, at the moment, was all that mattered.

  Andi set her suitcase just inside the door, having refused the help of the bellhop. Once Ford moved out of the way, her gaze swept over the posh interior of his presidential suite, and her jaw dropped. She had never seen anything like it. Huge bouquets of fresh flowers graced the surface of nearly every piece of furniture. A platter of fresh fruit and chocolates sat at a corner table. Sconces and several brass and crystal chandeliers provided a soft glow to the sitting room, where a sofa and chairs framed a huge ivory fireplace. She moved around the room, peered into the doorway off to the left and her mouth dropped. She took in the huge bathroom, made entirely of marble, the size of Andi’s entire hotel room, with its deep soaker tub and separate shower.

  Ford took in her expression and laughed. “Beats a standard queen.”

  Andi nodded. “Where’s the bedroom?”

  “So eager, Miss Callaway?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “I was just curious. No need to be crude.”

  “And no need to be so coy.” He laughed at her glare. “It’s behind these.” He flung open two mahogany French doors to reveal the largest bed Andi had ever seen.

  She swallowed, imagining the many things that could be done on a bed of that size.

  “They’re bringing you up a bed in a bit. That is, unless you’ve reconsidered,” he said, walking toward her, his eyes bright while he loosened his tie.

  Andi took a step back against the wall, stiffening as he approached. He came to a stop in front of her and ran the tips of his fingers down her arms, sending chills throughout her entire body.

  “Relax,” he whispered. Leaning in toward her ear, the warmth of his breath kissed her skin. Her breathing hitched, and she closed her eyes.

  “I’m not going to kiss you, and I’m definitely not going to touch you.” He leaned away from her. Andi’s eyes blinked open. “You’ve made it perfectly clear I’m nothing more than your boss, so I’ll go down to the bar for drinks, and you, my dear, can stay here and do whatever it is assistants do when they’re on a business trip.”

  Andi let out a sound of both desperation and anger, and Ford’s smug grin was the last thing she saw before he turned and walked out the door.

  The first hour of Ford’s absence, Andi spent pacing the room. What was she thinking sharing a room with Ford? Given their chemistry, this was a bad idea. And what was with him leaving her like that? He couldn’t really be disinterested in her now. Could he? And what did it matter if he was?

  Oh, hell. Who was she kidding? She wanted him to be interested.

  She found she couldn’t get her mind off him. Where was he at? Was he with someone? A woman? Was she pretty? Would he go back to her room?

  Andi gripped the sides of her head and groaned at the internal chatter. Flopping down on her bed, she imagined a long-haired blond, much like Rachel, with huge, perky boobs, long legs, and an incredible smile. Worse yet, she imagined Ford’s hand, his fingers, slightly rough and warm, running over her skin, across her cheek and down her jaw. She imagined her putting her hand on Ford’s arm, feeling the bulge of his muscle and laughing at his jokes. She’d lean into his ear and whisper, “Let’s get out of here.” Then she’d take him back to her place.

  Because she was single. Because she could. She was free to do so.

  Andi pressed her fingers to her temples until she saw spots of black in her vision. Peter, Peter, Peter, she repeated. You have Peter. Well, maybe… Who the hell knew what was going on with her and Peter? She still hadn’t heard from him. For all she knew, he hadn’t gotten the grant and had gone back to Ohio State, planning never to see her again and blaming her for all his problems. Frankly, she wasn’t opposed to that scenario.

  She lowered her hands from her head, which now throbbed like a drum, and exhaled. What the hell was she doing?

  Shaking her head, she got up and made her way over to the wet bar, where she took a Grey Goose mini, tipped her head back and downed it. She chased it with a shot of Crown Royal, cringing at the taste. Not her classiest moment, but now all she needed was a good night’s sleep, and then she’d be good as new. The taxing day had taken its toll.

  With the alcohol beginning to take effect, she brushed her teeth, changed into her PJs, then curled up on the bed. While her head began to grow fuzzy, she waited for sleep to take her. But three hours later, despite the drinks, she still wasn’t asleep. Instead, she was now buzzed and tired.

  The door to the room creaked open, followed by the soft sound of Ford’s footfalls. Squeezing her eyes tight, she waited for him to pass, but instead, he went into the bathroom, where she heard the shower turn on. When he returned, Andi relaxed her eyes so she could see between her lashes.

  She watched as Ford, his hair wet from a shower, moved about the moonlit room in nothing but a pair of blue cotton pajama bottoms. He raised the towel in his hand and ran it through his hair, drying it. The muscles in his tanned arms and abdomen flexed and moved with the motion, while shadows played over the contours of his chest. The image of him shirtless was too much. Closing her eyes, she tried to retrain her thoughts.

  When she could no longer hear him and the sight of his bare chest dislodged itself from her head, she slowly cracked her lids. Ford was sitting right across from her. She stifled a gasp and somehow managed to keep her eyes shut. He sat on the couch, directly across from her bed. He leaned forward, his elbows on his legs, staring at the floor.

  Despite her racing heart, Andi forced the muscles in her face to relax and her breathing to even so he would think she was asleep. He glanced up at her, his eyes dark in the filtered light. Reaching out, he brushed the side of her face with the back of his knuckles, his touch so light, she wondered if she imagined it. “Andi,” he whispered.

  Her heart hammered in her chest as she caught her breath. Afraid to move, she forced herself to remain still and waited for him to leave. Standing, he leaned forward one more time. His lips just barely grazed her cheek, lingering on her skin the briefest of moments before he disappeared. It wasn’t until she heard the doors to his bedroom open and the sound of him climbing into bed that she opened her eyes, taking in short gasps of air.

  Ford could pretend all he wanted that he was okay, happy even, with a completely professional relationship, but that … that right there, told her everything she needed to know. She pressed her eyes closed, torn between wanting to remember every sensation of his touch, his kiss, and wanting to forget it all.

  #

  Andi woke to the sound of humming and the scent of breakfast. Her eyes fluttered open grudgingly. She groaned and squinted in the bright light, bringing a hand up to her face to shield her eyes.

  “Morning, sunshine,” Ford greeted her, his voice chipper.

  She leaned up and glanced toward the sound of his voice to see him sitting at the small table in the corner, several room service carts off to the side.

  “Did you order the whole kitchen?” Andi asked, eyeing the spread. Bagels, pancakes, bacon, sausage, several t
ypes of eggs, toast, muffins, and pastries cluttered the trays and surface of the small table.

  “Good morning to you, too.” He swiped a square of pancake in a puddle of syrup and took a bite, talking between chews. “I didn’t know what you wanted, so I told them to bring everything.”

  Andi ran a hand through her hair, wondering how bad it looked. “Isn’t that kind of wasteful? What time is it?”

  “Some of it can be saved, and it’s eight o’clock. I never took you for a late sleeper.”

  As much as she hated to get up, Andi swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stretched. “I’m not, but I slept terribly last night, and I’d hardly call eight o’clock sleeping in.”

  She paused mid-stretch, realizing Ford had stopped chewing and was now blatantly staring. She moved her gaze to the direction of his to see her tank top had ridden up, revealing half of her stomach. “Oh.” She quickly dropped her arms and pulled the shirt down.

  He cleared his throat and returned to his food. “Right … Well, I for one, slept like a log. I feel great this morning.”

  Andi narrowed her eyes at him, trying to tell if he was lying. If she couldn’t sleep after his little clandestine goodnight to her, then she couldn’t imagine how he could, but he picked up the newspaper, seemingly oblivious to her questioning gaze. Huffing, she got up and went in the bathroom to get dressed.

  Two hours later, Andi’s stomach ached from the copious amounts of breakfast Ford made her consume, claiming it to be her fault they had so much food, since she should’ve been awake when he ordered. Not to mention, she was on caffeine overload. Her sleep deprivation had played its toll on her appearance, as well, but she refused to let it affect her otherwise. Today she met with Candy DeWitt. It had the potential to be one of the biggest days of her life, and she didn’t want to spend it in a trance.

  Minutes later, she stepped out onto the busy sidewalk and put her sunglasses on, slinging her purse over her shoulder. She wore a pair of cropped black pants and a short sleeved blouse with her favorite pair of 1960s kitten heels.

  She followed Ford, walking by his side as they made their way down Park Avenue. She took everything in as they made their way through the busy streets, yet no matter the view, her thoughts circled back to the image of Ford shirtless and the way he whispered her name while she pretend-slept.

  But she couldn’t go there. She couldn’t think of those things now, no more than she could think of how, when she’d checked her phone that morning, she’d had a missed call from Peter. He’d left no message, and she had no idea what that meant, but now was not the time to think about it. For now, she cared little about her problems with men. Instead, she breathed in the scent of confections as the door to Au Bon Pain opened and a patron stepped out. She watched the traffic crawl by, and she scanned the droves of people, all quickly walking in one direction or another. She wanted to take in every moment of this day.

  She ignored the incessant thoughts that continued to surface. She ignored the natural way it had felt to wake up in Ford’s room, have breakfast, and walk together through the city streets. And she ignored the now familiar, scent of his cologne that lingered in her nose.

  When they reached the old brownstone that housed Candy’s office, Andi paused by the door. “Wait,” she said, touching Ford’s arm. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the prick of sweat on her back.

  Doubt suddenly flooded her. What if the agent merely wanted to meet Ford’s new assistant? What if she hadn’t liked her book and this meeting wasn’t what she thought?

  Her stomach rolled, and she pressed a hand to her abdomen to quell the nausea. Turning, she opened her eyes and balled her fists. Even if Candy didn’t like her work, this was only the beginning, she reminded herself. She was a good writer, and she would have other opportunities, in time.

  But not this opportunity.

  “You okay?” Ford asked.

  Shaking her head, she turned back around to face him with resolve. She could do this.

  “Totally. Let’s go,” she said.

  Ten minutes later, she faced Candy, who looked much different than Andi had expected, with stark white hair cut into a sharp bob and shrewd eyes. Andi imagined her reading a manuscript in scrupulous detail. Ford sat by her side, and when Candy eyed him, she beamed, softening her otherwise rigid demeanor.

  “I imagine things are going well for you at your vacation spot? Given any more thought to the big Oprah piece?” she asked.

  Ford tugged on the bottom of his shirt. “Actually, I have. I’m considering it.”

  Andi’s attention snapped to Ford. She looked at him, frowning. He hadn’t mentioned that to her.

  “Mmm. Good. No point in hiding much longer. You’ve got to get yourself out there, and soon enough, you’ll have your next book out. May as well get it out there with a bang.”

  Ford laughed, his demeanor easy. “Always the businesswoman.”

  Candy’s eyes sparkled. “Gotta pay the bills.” Laughing, she shifted her gaze to Andi. “Andi, I’m thrilled to have you here and to have been able to read your masterpiece of a book.”

  Andi straightened in her chair, her heart racing. A bundle of nerves fisted in the small of her back. “Thank you. The pleasure’s all mine.”

  Candy folded her hands on her desk. “I’m sure you’re anxious to hear all of my thoughts and get down to business. Ford, would you mind giving us a minute?” She glanced over at him, her eyes alight. “I think Audrey wanted to say hello, anyway. She’s at her desk.”

  Audrey? Something wrapped around Andi’s mid-section and squeezed. She glanced up at Ford, who smiled at her as he left, and resisted the urge to stop him. Instead, she gripped the sides of her chair and waited until he left, then returned her gaze back to Candy. Focus, Andi.

  “At last!” Candy threw up her hands and reached across her desk to clasp Andi’s in her own. “I’ve heard so much about you over the last few weeks. About how brilliant, pretty, and ambitious you were. Now that I’ve met you and I’ve read your book, all of those things have proven to be true.”

  Andi didn’t know what to say. She felt her cheeks flush and smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Just between you and me, I’ve been worried about Ford these last months. Not just because he’s my biggest client, but because I consider him a friend. He hadn’t written a lick since everything broke and at times seemed like he never would.”

  Andi thought back to those first conversations with Ford, the very ones in which he talked about quitting but said he couldn’t. “He wouldn’t do that.”

  When Candy tilted her head with a skeptical eye, Andi elaborated. “Well, maybe he wouldn’t publish, but writing’s in his blood. It’s who he is, and it’s one of the only outlets he has.”

  Candy’s expression brightened. “So very true. Sounds as if you know him well. I’d love to know how well.”

  A snort of nervous laughter escaped the back of Andi’s throat. She said nothing, but Candy was not to be deterred.

  “All I know, Andi Callaway, is that he hasn’t been the same since he met you. He doesn’t need to be here in New York for me to see it. He’s different. Happier, lighter, since he met you. And he turned in some damn good chapters to me yesterday. I think it’s too much of a coincidence to not be correlated to his settling down in a town with a gorgeous, young, up-and-coming writer such as yourself. Don’t you?”

  “Uh. I don’t know.” Andi fidgeted in her chair, unsure of what to say. The thought that she may have affected Ford, his life and even his writing to that extent was almost too much. As she thought about the broken man that had first arrived in Callaway Cove, she realized that he had changed somehow. She had just been so caught up in everything going on around her, she hadn’t seen it.

  “Andi?” Candy asked, waving a hand in front of her. Andi looked up at the sound of her name and realized Candy must’ve been talking to her, while she was deep in thought. “Are you okay?” Candy asked.

  Andi nodded.
“Yeah. I’m sorry. It was a long night.” Andi laughed, trying to ease her nerves. “I was so excited and nervous about today that I didn’t sleep much.”

  Candy reached over and touched her arm. “That’s understandable. I thought maybe I said something to upset you. Why don’t we just get right down to it? That way you and Ford can get back to writing. Did Ford tell you I was a slave driver?” She winked at her and Andi smiled, drawn to Candy DeWitt, her sense of humor and candor. Who wouldn’t be?

  “I think your novel, In the Name of Grace, is fabulous, smart, fresh, and just the direction the industry is headed in. There are only one or two very minor things I think you should tweak, and then I feel it’s ready to send to publishers. I would love to represent you, if you’d have me.”

  Andi’s mouth dropped open. She glanced down at the floor and back to Candy again. Was she in shock? Had Candy just said what she thought she did? Tears sprung to her eyes and suddenly, she doubted her ears. “Can you repeat that?” she croaked.

  Candy tipped her head back and chuckled. “I said I would love to represent you and your book.” She reached across the table and squeezed Andi’s hand again. “Usually a simple phone call suffices, but Ford doesn’t do anything the simple way.”

  Andi’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my God,” she sputtered between her fingers. She had an agent! And not just any agent but Candy DeWitt!

  She bounced in her seat and let out a squeal, her emotions ricocheting like ping-pong balls.

  “I’ll take that as a yes?” Candy beamed.

  “Yes, yes!” Standing, Andi leaned across the desk and hugged her.

  “I’ll e-mail you a contract for you to look over and sign, then we’ll talk about your manuscript some more and move on to finding you a publisher….”