Page 26 of Guys Can’t Write Romance

Chapter seventeen

Reading Between the Lines

The late afternoon sun warmed the coffee shop’s patio as Daisy watched Chloe read her new pages, fighting the urge to snatch them back.

She’d already reorganized the sugar packets twice (by color, then by type), straightened all the chairs at neighboring tables, and was seriously considering color-coding the creamer selection.

“You really suck at patience,” Chloe said without looking up, her eyes scanning to the bottom of the page then flipping to the next with deliberate slowness that Daisy suspected was meant to torture her.

“Did anyone ever tell you that?” She brushed aside several of her newly dyed green curls as she read on.

“I’m patient,” Daisy protested, though her fidgeting hands betrayed her. She tugged half-heartedly at the hem of her sundress, then adjusted her sunglasses, then twisted her napkin into increasingly frantic loops.

“Uh-huh,” Chloe murmured distractedly, her nose buried in the freshly edited chapter. She paused to jot something cheeky in the margins with a pen before continuing. “You’ve been watching me read like I’m about to announce the lottery numbers.”

“In a way, you are. I just need to know that Rick’s fixed. Nothing else. No deep analysis or character assassinations.”

“What if they need assassinated?” Chloe asked, turning another page with excruciating slowness.

“Do they?”

“I’ll let you know in one more minute.” Chloe’s deliberately mysterious tone wasn’t helping matters.

Chloe’s eyes skimmed down the rest of the page and then on to the last one. A few seconds later, she slapped it down onto the table and shot Daisy a grin. “You want the good news first?”

Daisy’s eyes went wide, her imagination immediately conjuring worst-case scenarios. “Does that mean there’s bad news?”

“Not for me.” Chloe’s grin widened. “The good news is, you fixed Rick.”

Daisy sank in her seat and let out a sigh of relief.

“Want the rest of it?” Chloe said, her eyes sparkling with mischief that immediately reactivated Daisy’s anxiety.

Daisy nodded, suddenly uncertain. “Yeah.”

“Okay. So the rest of the good news is, and actually it’s all good, you’re not writing about boring boyfriend anymore.” Chloe leaned forward, as if imparting a delicious secret.

“Rick was never Ethan,” Daisy protested.

“We literary critics beg to differ.” Chloe waved a dismissive hand. “But he’s definitely not anymore.”

“Why do I think you’re about to drop a bombshell on me?”

Chloe grinned. “‘Cause I am. You wrote about Chad.”

Daisy banged her head down on the table with enough force to rattle the coffee cups. “That’s what everyone in the writers’ group said,” she mumbled to the table.

“Look at the bright side, roomie,” Chloe said, patting Daisy’s arm. “We no longer need to have a dinosaur eat him.”

Daisy looked up from the table. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“Oh, yeah. Your male lead has officially evolved from Flat Rick to ‘Secret Chad With Better Manners.’”

“Maybe I just wrote a generic fun-loving male lead,” Daisy said hopefully. “It doesn’t necessarily mean it’s Chad.”

“Honey.” Chloe leaned forward. “You had a whole chapter where, and I quote, ‘Coach Chaos skipped a ski trip with his friends to coach his little league team, and Julie’s heart warmed when she learned about it.’”

“Just because I used your nickname for him doesn’t mean he’s Chad.”

Chloe flipped through the pages. “Here’s one. He organized the equipment shed ‘all wrong’ and she found it ‘infuriatingly endearing.’ Who does that sound like?”

“Oscar the Grouch?”

“Nope. And here’s another one. He has, and I quote, ‘a smile that makes chaos feel comfortable’ and ‘eyes so blue they should come with a warning label.’”

“That’s just character description,” Daisy said. “I embellished a bit.”

“What color are Chad’s eyes?”

“Blue,” Daisy said before catching herself.

Chloe grinned. “I rest my case.”

Daisy groaned and banged her head down again.

“Face it, roomie,” Chloe said. “You’ve got it bad.”

“No, I don’t,” Daisy hissed, peeking up from the table like a turtle reluctantly emerging from its shell. “Chad and I are writing partners. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh. And Rick just happened to develop messy dark hair and a habit of surfing before school? And an obsession with horror movies that the heroine finds ‘secretly charming’?”

“Did I put that in there?”

“Yup.”

“Oh, gawd,” Daisy said, banging her head back on the table. “I blame it on sleep deprivation and heat stroke from being out in the sun all afternoon.”

“You need to face reality, Daze. Chad McKenzie is squatting in your subconscious rent-free, and he’s redecorating.”

“Who’s squatting where?” came Ava’s voice.

They both looked up to find Ava approaching their table in her designer suit, looking like she’d just stepped out of a law firm catalog. Even her coffee cup seemed more sophisticated than theirs.

“Perfect timing!” Chloe beamed. “We were just discussing how Daisy made Coach Chad the romantic hero in her novel.”

“I did not!” Daisy protested, sitting up straight.

“She totally did. Want to read it? It’s like a romance novel and a diary had a baby.”

“Don’t you dare,” Daisy reached for the manuscript, but Chloe pulled it out of reach.

“Let’s see.” Chloe flipped through several pages, her eyes scanning for particularly damning evidence.

“Here we go. ‘Rick ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair, and Julie fought the urge to smooth it down. Everything about him was beautifully chaotic, from his mismatched socks to his terrible jokes, and she was terrified by how much she’d grown to love that chaos.’”

“Oh, goodness,” Ava sat down hard. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“It’s pure coincidence!” Daisy grabbed for the pages again, nearly knocking over her own coffee in the process. “Any resemblance to actual persons is completely unintended.”

“Oh, and look at this,” Chloe said, pointing to a line. “He literally just called her ‘Fields’ instead of Julie.”

“That was a typo!”

Chloe’s eyes skimmed down the page, her expression growing more delighted with each sentence. “Three times?”

“Four,” Ava noted, reading over Chloe’s shoulder. “And he called her ‘a cute, but neurotic control freak’?”

Chloe grinned, leaning back in her chair. “That is such a Chad thing to say.”

“I’m going to kill you both,” Daisy grumbled.

“No, you won’t,” Chloe grinned. “You love us. Almost as much as Rick loves Julie, and Chad loves...”

“Don’t say it!” Daisy snarled.

“This is concerning,” Ava frowned. “What about Ethan and your five-year plan? I needn’t remind you he’s on the fast track to becoming a partner at his firm.”

“You keep ‘needn’t reminding’ us every time we see you,” said Chloe.

“And I’m going to keep doing it until Daisy wakes up.”

“Girls!” Daisy cut in. “Can we please stop discussing my love life?”

“Sure,” Chloe picked up the manuscript again. “Let’s discuss Rick’s ‘impossibly blue eyes’ instead. Or how his ‘casual touch sends sparks through her whole body.’ Or my personal favorite, ‘his laugh makes her forget why she ever thought chaos was a bad thing.’”

Daisy groaned and banged her head on the table again.

“Face it,” Chloe patted her hair. “Your subconscious is Team Chad all the way. Even your fictional characters are tired of waiting for you to figure it out.”

“There are no teams,” Daisy mumbled into the table.

“Tell that to your novel.” Chloe shot Ava a triumphant smile. “Team Chad has officially taken the lead.”

“Daisy, honey,” Ava said, leaning forward. “You do realize this is a disaster.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Daisy muttered sarcastically, not lifting her head from its resting place on the table.

“Are you kidding? This is entertainment gold,” Chloe said, her eyes dancing with genuine delight. “Daze, you should make this your next book. ‘How My Novel Knew I Was Crushing on My Writing Partner Before I Did.’”

Daisy peeked up from her hands, her hair slightly mussed from its repeated contact with the table. “I am not crushing on anyone!”

“Except, Ethan,” Ava added. “Right, Daisy?”

Daisy peeked up from the table. “Yes, Ava. Ethan’s my boyfriend. Not Rick.”

“Did you mean to say Rick or Chad?” Chloe said. “Because I’m getting the two of them confused.”

Daisy groaned and banged her head back on the table. “Chad. I’m not crushing on Chad,” she said to the table with almost zero conviction. Even her own characters were calling her out. And judging by the looks on Chloe and Ava’s faces, they didn’t believe it either.

“The table says it doesn’t buy it,” said Chloe, patting Daisy’s shoulder with mock sympathy.

“The table says you’re a bad influence,” Daisy muttered without lifting her head.

“Thank you. I work hard at it,” said Chloe. “Just one question, though.”

“What?” Daisy’s voice was muffled by her arms, which were now wrapped protectively around her head.

“Do we wear swimsuits to your guys’ surfboard wedding or dresses?”

“I hate you.”