Writing Mr. Right

by T. K. Leigh

  Noah jumped back, snapping out of whatever trance he was in. His wide eyes met mine, horror plastered in the lines of his face. Frozen in place, he simply stared at me.

  I had no idea what to do. I should have said something, but what? Don’t worry about it. I just kissed you because I’m using you for my book. I had a feeling that wouldn’t go over well at all.

  When his phone beeped again, he pulled it from the clip around his belt. Looking at the screen, his brows furrowed.

  “I have to go,” he said quickly, avoiding my eyes. He readjusted himself, then headed for the door.

  “Noah, wait.” I jumped off the exam table I used to loathe. However, it now held some rather pleasurable memories. I’d never look at an exam table the same way again.

  He paused just as he was about to turn the knob. He glanced over his shoulder, looking at me as if I had an infectious disease. A pang of guilt seeped into my chest when I saw the turmoil radiating from every inch of his body.

  “This shouldn’t have happened.” His voice was firm. Straightening his spine, he smoothed the lines of his shirt and pants, then left the room, closing the door behind him.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “THERE SHE IS!” DREW exclaimed as I hurried into the café the following afternoon. I wanted to smack the smile off his face. I felt worse than I did getting ready for an eight a.m. class on a Friday after having been out drinking until the early morning hours. This time, though, I hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol.

  I’d tossed and turned all night. No matter what I did, I was unable to stop thinking about my kiss with Noah. The feel of his lips were burned on mine. Every time I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine him beside me, kissing me with an unquenchable thirst.

  I’d used my insomnia to my advantage and worked on my manuscript. The uncertainty Noah’s reaction left me with had consumed me. Reading through it earlier this morning, I didn’t know what to make of everything. It was as if a stranger wrote it, the thoughts foreign to everything I believed. I kept seeing the final line I’d written flash before me, making me sick to my stomach.

  It was the knowledge that, despite years of thinking real love wasn’t real life, I’d fallen for the one man I could never have.

  I refused to believe any of it was my subconscious rearing its ugly head. It was a work of fiction, nothing more. So what if I had Jackson freak out after his first kiss with Avery? So what if he said it shouldn’t have happened just like Noah had? Avery and Jackson weren’t real. They were simply products of my imagination.

  “I wondered when you would show your face. It’s past one.”

  “Sorry,” I offered. “I’ve just been a little distracted lately, I suppose.” I avoided Drew’s eyes, grabbing the paper coffee cup he held out to me. I stared out the front windows of the café. Unmoving, I took a long sip of my coffee, trying to hide the bitter look on my face from the sick taste in my mouth. It had nothing to do with the coffee and everything to do with me.

  I hated deceiving my brother. I’d never kept anything from him before. When I had sex for the first time, he was the first person I told…before he threatened to head over to the poor kid’s house and make him wish he’d never heard the name Molly Brinks. When I stumbled into the house after a high school party during my freshman year, he held my hair back as I prayed to the porcelain god all night, then never said a word about it again to me or my father. When I thought about choosing a different career, he was the one who convinced me to keep going, who told me to ignore everyone, who insisted I had a talent that shouldn’t be wasted. Maybe that was why this current deception tore me apart.

  “What is it?”

  I swung my eyes to his. “What is what?” I swallowed hard.

  “You’re acting…weird.”

  “No, I’m not,” I argued, laughing nervously. “You’re acting weird. I’m just tired. This book is kicking my ass.”

  “Oh yeah?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Do you have more pages for me to see?”

  I pulled my lip between my teeth. My limbs grew jittery at the thought of anyone reading what I’d written last night, especially Drew or Brooklyn.

  “Not exactly.”

  “Then what were you doing up all night?”

  “How did you—”

  “I just know these things, Molly, so fess up.”

  I turned from him, plopping down in an empty booth. Drew followed, sliding in across from me. I tapped on the lid to my coffee, unsure of how much to tell him.

  “Before I say anything, you cannot tell a soul.”

  He opened his mouth, but I cut him off.

  “I’m not even sure I’m going to tell Brooklyn.”

  He narrowed his gaze, knowing it must be serious. “What’s going on, Mols?” He reached across the table and grabbed my hand in his, stopping me from fidgeting. “Whatever it is, you can talk to me about it. I won’t judge you.”

  I shook my head, trying to collect my thoughts. I prayed I’d feel less guilty if I just told someone what had been going on. My eyes trained on Drew, I finally broke the stiff silence. “The day after speed dating, when I went to the Common to clear my head, I ran into someone.”

  “Who?”

  I chewed on the inside of my cheek, unsure how much I should disclose. One thing was certain. I didn’t want to see Noah hurt in all this. “A guy I work with,” I lied.

  “At the magazine?”

  I nodded slightly.

  “I didn’t know any guys worked there. At least not straight ones,” he joked.

  “There are a few.”

  “What does he have to do with anything?”

  I let out a heavy sigh. “That’s who I’ve been spending time with these past few weeks, not Timothy. That date was over before it even began.”

  Drew stared, his mouth slack. Then he leaned back in the booth, shaking his head. “I had a feeling something was up, something you didn’t want to tell me. I’m assuming this relationship is frowned upon.”

  “Of course. I’m not comfortable saying who it is just yet, so I don’t want to disclose his exact title. He’s someone who decides what gets published and what doesn’t.” I hoped he wouldn’t see through this lie, too.

  “Then it’s similar to the forbidden relationship you’re writing about in your book.” He formed his lips into a tight line, giving me a hardened stare.

  “That’s not the only reason I started spending time with him,” I insisted, although I wasn’t sure whether that were true. “His father had Alzheimer’s, too, so I guess it’s kind of refreshing to spend time with someone, besides you and Brooklyn, who understands.” At least that had some truth to it.

  “That explains the strange questions yesterday.”

  “You said you weren’t going to judge.”

  Drawing in a deep breath, he kept his eyes focused on me, unnerving me. This was his older brother stare, the look that said I’m not going to tell you what to do, but you probably shouldn’t be doing what you are. He smiled at an older couple as they passed us, then returned his attention to me, lowering his voice. “Have you slept with him?”

  “No,” I replied hurriedly. “I mean, I wanted to, but he got a call on his phone before things could get too carried away.”

  “How far did things go?” he asked in a guarded tone.

  “We kissed.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yes.” I held up my hand when I saw the disbelief on his face. “Hand to God, Drew. We made out for, like, two minutes.” I brought my coffee to my lips, trying to hide my smile. “A damn good two minutes,” I murmured.

  “Then what happened?”

  I relayed a modified play-by-play of the previous afternoon…from the kiss to an even deeper kiss, then to the phone interruption and the sudden chill that seemed to come over me.

  “When he left he told me the kiss shouldn’t have happened.”

  “And he’s right, Molly.”

  I chewed on my bottom lip. I couldn
’t remember ever feeling so out of sorts.

  “I didn’t realize you actually went into the office,” Drew commented after a prolonged silence. “I thought you submitted all your work remotely.”

  I tore my eyes from his, a crack of thunder sounding as a rainstorm rolled over the city. People on the sidewalk began flooding into the café to stay dry. “Oh, we’ve run into each other outside the office.”

  “Except for yesterday.” He narrowed his gaze at me, making me worry he had caught me in my lie.

  “Obviously.” I wondered if I’d already said too much. I didn’t mind Drew thinking I was having an affair with one of my coworkers, but he couldn’t find out about Noah. He could make a lot of trouble for him.

  “My advice, Molly?” Drew said as he stood from the booth to give Aunt Gigi a hand with the sudden rush. “Let it go. This isn’t your full-time job like it is this guy’s. Not to mention there’s a double standard in these types of things. They’ll automatically assume he used his position of power to entice you to become intimate, regardless of the fact that it was just one kiss. Find another muse. Maybe call Kevin and apologize.”

  “Kevin’s wrong for this book. I need young, professional.”

  “Then give online dating another try. If you think I can’t read between the lines here—”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re Avery,” he accused, as if it were common knowledge.

  “No, I’m not. Jackson’s the one with a mom who has memory issues, not Avery.”

  “That’s a mere technicality. You’ve always refused to express your true feelings, except through your writing. It’s a bit suspicious that this story took on a completely different tone around the same time it seems you began getting close to this guy at work. It’s a damn good book, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not your typical style. Hell, I’ve read how many pages now? There hasn’t been so much as a kiss between these two. And why? Because I keep reading about Avery’s concern that she’ll ruin this man’s career. You’re Avery.”

  “No, I’m not,” I argued, standing up and straightening my spine, although my meager five-foot, three-inch frame was no match for his intimidating six-foot, two-inch stature.

  “You like to conceal all your feelings, put them in a little box, and do everything within your power to make sure they stay locked up tight. That’s why you write. So you’ll never have to admit you’re anything but fine, which couldn’t be further from the truth.”

  “So just because I’m not breaking down every day at the thought that my father can’t even remember my name and tried to strangle me yesterday afternoon, you think I’m not okay?” I seethed.

  “Wait… What?” He frowned.

  My breath caught, realizing what I had just said.

  “I thought you were at the magazine yesterday.”

  “Yeah.” I tore my eyes from his. “I stopped by the office after leaving the nursing home.”

  He eyed me, skeptical, then asked, “What happened?”

  “Drew!” Aunt Gigi bellowed out. We both snapped our heads in her direction.

  “Just a second!” we shouted in unison. A little boy stood by the counter with a hockey puck and marker in his hand, obviously wanting an autograph.

  She opened her mouth to respond, but shut it when she saw the heated expressions on our faces.

  Drew turned to me, placing his hand on my bicep, his eyes awash with compassion. “Are you okay?” He surveyed my body, as if looking for a bruise or scratch.

  “I’m fine. It’s the disease that makes him act out sometimes. Dr. McAllister checked me out and made sure there was no damage. It’s my fault. I had been warned. They tried to turn me away. They said it wasn’t a good idea for him to have any visitors, but you know how stubborn I can be. I pushed and wouldn’t let it go. When I went to give Dad a hug before leaving, something snapped, making him feel vulnerable, and he squeezed his hands around my throat.”

  “Who let you see him?” A vein in Drew’s neck pulsed, a telltale sign of his anger.

  “Honestly, Drew, it’s not a big deal. The man is our father and I wasn’t going to let anyone tell me I couldn’t see him. Dr. McAllister made sure security was in the room, just as a precaution.”

  He shook his head, stewing. “It never should have happened in the first place. Everything makes sense now.”

  “What does?” I frowned.

  “I got a phone call from Dr. McAllister this morning informing me he’d no longer be Dad’s neurologist.”

  “He what?” I couldn’t mask the surprise in my voice.

  “It seemed a little unorthodox to me, but he said, based on the fact that Dad’s Alzheimer’s has advanced so rapidly, it was in his best interests that Dr. Farell take over his care. Now I get the feeling it has something to do with you.”

  My heart skipped, all the blood rushing to my face at the idea that Drew was on to me and my lies. “Something to do with me?” I repeated, swallowing hard.

  “After Dad attacked you, what other explanation is there?”

  I opened my mouth, speechless, then spun on my heels. “I have to go.” There was a completely different explanation, one that made much more sense than my dad’s advanced Alzheimer’s that prompted a physical attack.

  “Where are you going?” Drew called after me.

  “Where do you think?” I shot back. “It’s almost two.”

  “Molly.” He ran to catch up to me, grabbing my arm and spinning me to face him. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

  “Of course I do, Drew. He’s our father,” I spat. “I’m not going to ignore him simply because he’s not the same person he was when we were kids. Maybe he’s having a good day today.”

  He dropped his hold on me and narrowed his eyes. “When was the last time he had a good day? I can’t even take the girls to see him anymore because they’re scared of him.”

  “But I’m not. It may have been a while since he’s had a good day, but I’m not going to abandon him. I’m not going to let him die thinking there’s no one left who gives a shit about him. I understand you need to put your girls first, but I’ll be damned if Dad thinks he has no one left.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  I SLAMMED MY CAR door and hurried through the parking lot. The rain stinging my face, I pulled my coat tighter. However, it was still no match against the heavy downpour. Noah wasn’t usually at the nursing home on Sundays, but something told me he’d be here. Tearing up the steps, I stormed up to the security desk, not caring that I was dripping water everywhere.

  “I need to speak with Dr. McAllister immediately,” I barked at Reggie, who seemed a bit alarmed to see me in such a state.

  “I’m sorry, Molly. Dr. McAllister isn’t seeing anyone today. You can go visit your father, though, if you’d like. He’s having a much better day than yesterday.”

  I tried to calm my temper, not wanting Reggie to grow suspicious of my reaction. “This is really important.” I should have walked away, but I needed to see Noah.

  “It’s okay, Reggie,” a voice called out. I shot my eyes to the door leading to the administrative wing. Noah stood there, dressed casually. “We’ll just be a minute.”

  “Yes sir, Dr. McAllister.” He eyed me as I headed toward Noah and followed him down the brightly lit corridors.

  Silence stretched between us while we walked past several darkened rooms and into his office. Instead of closing the door to give us privacy this time, he kept it open, almost as if he didn’t trust himself…or, worse, me. He stepped behind his messy desk and sat down, gesturing to one of the chairs on the other side.

  I lowered myself on unsteady legs, unsure of what to say. I had been impulsive when I demanded to speak to him. Now I found myself without a plan.

  Noah’s voice broke through the silence. “I assume you’re here because your brother informed you that Dr. Farell will now attend to your father.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “You assumed right.”

/>   “Like I told your brother…,” he continued, exuding all the professionalism he could muster.

  I clenched my fists at his tone. I hated everything about this. I wanted the caring, charismatic man who made me laugh. I wanted Noah, not Dr. McAllister. I had a feeling there would be no more Noah. I felt like I was mourning the death of a friend, knowing there’d be no more ice cream, no more classic movies in the cemetery, no more daring rescues from murderous ducks. For once, I’d formed a relationship with a man based on something other than sex. The idea of that ending made me feel empty.

  “Your father’s progression has been so aggressive, I felt it necessary to transfer his care to Dr. Farell. He’s one of the top neurologists in the country. It usually takes six months to even get an appointment with him. He’s on the staff here, as well.”

  Glowering, I asked, “Is that the only reason?”

  His hardened gaze met mine. After what seemed like an eternity, his expression cracked, a softness returning to his eyes. “You know that’s not the only reason.” He shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. “Something horrible could have happened to you yesterday. My judgment was clouded because of our friendship.” He squeezed his eyes shut, his posture becoming slack. “I should have walked away when I saw you at the Common,” he murmured. I wondered if he meant for me to hear it.

  “But you didn’t.” I reached across the desk and grabbed his hand.

  His eyes flung open and he quickly withdrew from me, leaving me feeling cold, unwanted, dejected. “No, but I can make things right going forward.” His voice turned determined once more.

  “What do you mean?”

  He shuffled some of the papers on his desk, then stood up. “I’m sure you’ll find Dr. Farell to be a wonderful addition to your father’s care team.”

  Staring at him with cold eyes, I shot up from the chair, the vein on my forehead throbbing. I spun from him and stormed down the hallway, not wanting him to see how much his words and actions hurt.