Page 42

“I just miss home.”

“Oh, you’ll be here soon for Thanksgiving. And you’re always welcome home. Doug and Louisa will be up then,too, looking for a new place to live since they’re moving here after the holidays.”

“That’s great news. Oh, Mom, I have to go. Talk soon, okay?”

“Love you, my sunshine girl.”

As I clicked off and rounded the corner to the apartment, suddenly the weight of my worlds pulled at me. My small town life versus my city life. I straddled them both, lingering in the middle, trying to figure out where I belonged.

22

WANTS VS. NEEDS

REX

For about the hundredth time,I watched every one of Chelsea’s Morning City Show segments leading up to Thanksgiving, torturing my soul with her face and sunshine. This role on TV was designed for her. She. Was. Perfection.

When she laughed, I laughed, every time. She used all sorts of descriptive adjectives for her food, and my mouth watered for a morsel,and for the taste of her.And when she talked about home, every fiber of my being wanted to exist in one with her.

A one-room home with a cozy bed was all I needed with Chelsea. We’d order food in, entertain each other, hold each other all night, make love—Love!In my mind, I saidI love youto her every day since I fucked it all up, not realizing what I had until it was gone.

“What have I done?” I groaned. I was a complete ass to Chelsea and didn’t deserve her.

Jeez, I’d turned into Archer—a brooding, pining prick.Now I had another thing to feel guilty about since I had little sympathy for Archer back when he went through his first breakup with Brianne. I owed him a huge apology.

There was no way around the predicament Marlena forced me into. I put her off as long as I could, but she threatened to call the police on Chelsea again unless we finally announced the news of our pending—and fake—marriage to our families on Thanksgiving day.

Fine. I deserved this. I’d take it as my punishment for what I did to Chelsea, but the guilt…oh the fucking guilt ate at me.

I clicked pause on the television screen and hauled up from my desk. Standing in front of Chelsea’s frozen frame, I touched the back of my hand right on the cheek of the image of her. How desperate I felt to touch her flesh again, to kiss her lips, to be inside of her.

The woman did something to me and turned me into a mess. I was once a thriving playboy without a care in the world. Now? I was a pathetic fucking asshole.

There was only one way to resolve this, to ease my mind, or I’d go crazy. I needed a drink—severalof them. Since Marlena, the evil witch, held me under her thumb, getting drunk was my coping mechanism.

I grabbed my coat and about rushed out of the office, but in my haste, I toppled over the model of the lobby redesign Archer and Brooks created. “Shit.”

I placed the marble slab back on the table and stared at it long and hard. Then it hit me.

I flew to Pearl’s desk, barkingorders.

“Call Archer. Tell him to redesign the lobby to include the deli.”

“Sure, you got it.” She picked up the earpiece of the phone.

“Only tell him to do whatever he has to do todoublethe size.” I yanked my coat on.

“Right.”

“And tell him I’m footing the bill to remodel the entire deli for Chelsea. Anything she wants, she gets.” I punched the elevator button.

“Okay.”

“One more thing. Redo the deli lease in Chelsea’s name, for twenty years, at the original lease price my dad set up with Doug. Get her to sign it.”

“What? Really? Oh, okay. Only there’s one problem.”

Leave it to Pearl to throw a wrench into my plans. I faced her and sighed, irritated at her as usual.