Page 42 of The Forgotten SEAL (The Real SEAL #1)

I’m shaking. The office is cold and smells like fresh donuts.

My attorney, the fat bald guy who Jaz uses to vet all my contracts, is sitting at the head of the table, prattling on about how awesome it is that we had so many high-priced offers for the novel.

I’m also shaking because Jasmine mailed Smith a copy of the book last week. He’s read it.

He’s read my words. My scary, heartrending words. His stories, but my words swirled with fiction in a love story so tragic and beautiful that Hollywood has never seen the likes of. Obviously, hence the reason we’re here to begin with.

Jasmine presses her hand in mine. “You look beautiful, Care,” she says, her lips whispering close to my ear. The blinds are open, letting in enough sunlight to brighten the room. With a shaky hand, I sip my coffee. “No more coffee or you’re going to buzz right out of here,” Jasmine chides.

I slide the cup away from me.

“You’re right,” I reply, checking my watch. “He should be here any moment. Do you think he’s going to be mad?” I look at my friend, eyes wide and terror transforming my whole demeanor.

She shakes her head. “He was always going to read it. He had to. Remember in the beginning when you started this whole crazy project? You wanted to help people. You wanted to write a story that would mean something to someone. He’s that someone you have the most chance of impacting.

The whole world is going to read this story, and you need to get used to that fact. Smith is just one of the firsts.”

My heart pounds, and the palms of my hands sweat with unease and uncertainty. Moose walks in with the same terrified look on his face. “Thank God! Finally! I thought you weren’t going to show,” I say. Standing, I leap into his arms to hug him. “They’ll be here any minute. Are you ready for this?”

“Hi to you too, Carina. You’re insane if you think this is a good idea. I almost didn’t come in. I circled the parking lot fifteen times while saying aloud every reason this was going to end badly.” Today he has more to lose than I do.

I swallow hard. “This is the last chance, Moose. And no one will think it’s odd you’re here. Your character is a huge part in the story, remember? Isn’t part of your job description to go with the flow? Form a plan while a horrendous situation is unfolding?”

A sidelong smirk appears. I knew I should play on his strengths. Moose likes his ego stroked.

“They’re controlled messes, though. Usually ones we create ourselves,” he replies.

“But I did create this mess. I’m enacting you as the king’s hand. Clean thy mess and confess thy sins,” I say, joking. His blue eyes twinkle with mirth. When his dimples show, I know I have him. “You have to be at least a little bit excited?”

“More like ready for the biggest letdown of my life, but hey, in the spirit of your book, one in which you spill so many details and tenuous secrets about my best friend and his bedroom habits, I’m willing to play ball. ”

It never occurred to me Smith would have spoken to Moose about the book. “Oh, god. What did he say?” I blink a few times very slowly. I’m pretty sure it’s a defense mechanism because all of a sudden I feel faint, my vision morphing into a tunnel.

The door creaks open to my back, and the time is finally here. Moose flashes me a grin and turns a megawatt, exuberant smile at the door. Megan. “I’m sure he’ll tell you himself,” he says, through clenched teeth.

He puts his hand on my shoulder as I spin.

Jasmine joins us to my left. All air leaves the room when I see him.

I can’t put up a wall or even false pretenses around this man.

Smith forces a smile when he sees Moose, but I watch the confusion and hesitance arrive in the same breath.

Smith avoids looking at me, which makes it even more awkward because it’s so obvious he’s trying not to look at me.

With one arm he’s holding Megan around her waist, like he alone is keeping her standing, but in the other he’s holding my book.

The spine bent as if it’s been through the dryer seventeen times in one week.

My heart jolts, and I feel I may be sick right here on the carpet in front of everyone.

One glance at Megan’s face and I know she’s read it.

What type of horrendous torture must that have been for her?

I can’t even imagine the pain it caused.

The anger. The absolute terror of realizing how in love someone else is with her fiancé.

“What are you doing here?” Smith asks Moose. He’s so stunning, standing tall and proud with the air of confidence only worn by those who claim it truthfully. It makes me weak. The last thing I need right now is any form of weakness.

Jasmine squeezes my hand. “I asked him to be here. He plays a large part in Greenleigh’s novel, and in turn the character will play a large part in any future movie role. Our attorneys have cut him into the deal as well.”

Moose squeezes my shoulder. I hadn’t told him that yet. It’s a thank you for being here today. The least I can do with my pain money I don’t need. That’s what I refer to it as now. Looking at the cover alone makes me squeamish.

“What she said,” Moose replies.

Smith doesn’t buy it. Not even for a second.

Megan watches me so intently that I feel like an actress putting on a show. Do I look pretty enough? Am I missing a line?

“Please sit down. Let’s get the process going,” the attorney says.

Smith and Megan sit across the table from Moose, Jasmine, and me. Smith’s attorney meanders in and makes his way to a seat near Megan and opens his files. When we’re all seated, Smith drops the book in the middle of the long conference table. The loud thud makes everyone jump.

I swallow, close my eyes, and take a few beats to clear my head. He’s so angry I can feel his tremors from across the room.

“ Never Forever ,” Smith says, quoting the title.

I open my eyes, but he’s pointing a glare at Jasmine. It’s meant for me, but he won’t risk that move. He doesn’t intend to make this any harder on himself.

“A Navy SEAL’s tale of loss, love, and honor.” He reads the tagline through gritted teeth.

“It was beautiful,” Megan says, already tearful.

Great. This is how it’s going to go. I turn to my attorney and give him a nod. Make this fast .

He starts in on his speech about the contracts and percentages and all of the other boring math things that go over my head but are too important to ignore.

No one else is listening. They’re too busy tasting the air so thick you can cut through it with a knife.

The tension is so visceral that no one is unaffected.

Megan speaks over the bald man. “I said it was beautiful.”

So, it begins.

Jasmine sighs. “It’s incredibly beautiful. They’re already billing it as this generation’s Romeo and Juliet,” she replies to Megan. “Carina wouldn’t budge on the title. I think it suits it fine enough. It’s simple so people will remember it, yet it still remains integral to the story.”

Smith’s hand shakes as he reaches out for the worn-out proof copy of the book but ultimately merely lays a hand on top of it. Like a Bible. “This wasn’t what I expected,” he says. “It’s…it’s…too much.”

“Too much what?” I ask, willing him to turn his gaze my way.

He doesn’t, though. He slides it back in front of his chest. His resolve is faltering.

I see the cracks in his front. He knows how much this will cost. The price has never been higher.

Still, he doesn’t realize Megan already knows.

It’s why she’s crying, a mess of tears and insolence as she stares at our story, now a tangible item lying in front of her.

“I don’t want any money from this. I know my name won’t be associated with it, but that’s the only thing I care about.

I want to leave today being reassured that this will never come back to me.

No matter how big this thing blows up, I don’t want to be this person.

” He speaks to me while looking at Jasmine, at the same time pointing to the cover of the book.

“You are that person. You can’t pretend you’re not. The rest of the world will never know, Smith. But you will. And that’s the only thing that matters,” I say.

He stares to the right, his jaw working back and forth.

Megan looks at me, her makeup-stained face a wash of confusion. “What do you mean?” she asks.

“Why are you so upset with your portrayal, Smith? Look at me,” I command. When he doesn’t budge I yell, “Look at me! You owe me that much!”

Finally he turns, and I see the wetness in his eyes—the burning rage. “Because it’s not fiction,” he says. “Because you told the truth.” His words are laced with pain, and everyone in the room silences. In this moment it feels as if the air we’re all breathing is too loud.

I nod. “That’s right. I did. It’s our story, and you chose the ending. Megan,” I say, bouncing my gaze back to her. “ Moose has something he wants to tell you.”

Smith slits his eyes as he glares at his friend.

Moose opens his folded hands and then clasps them again. “Everyone loves a good underdog story, right?”

“I’m confused,” Megan replies. “Don’t you have something to say, Carina?”

“I’m not telling any lies today, or ever again. I’m sorry. This right here is the table of truth. Let Moose finish.”

Jasmine grabs my leg under the table. We’re both a ball of nerves. If I were a smarter person who had a knack for planning I would have had security here with big, metal sticks. Megan looks at Moose, wipes a few tears from beneath her eyes, and flashes him a small smile.

It gives him the confidence he needs. “I’ve been in love with you for longer than I care to admit,” Moose starts. He looks at his friend across the table.

Smith stands, turns around, and stares out of the window, both hands perched on his hips. Megan stays glued to her seat, her wide, beautiful eyes enraptured.

I puff out a breath between closed lips.

Moose stands. “I loved you when he loved you. Before the accident. I know it was wrong, and I never would have admitted these feelings to you under any other circumstance, but I want you, Megan.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Smith mutters loud enough for the whole room to hear. He doesn’t turn around, though—his back broad and his stance wide.

“Oh my god,” my attorney says.

I shut him up with a glare, and he takes a seat, eyes flicking back and forth between Smith and Moose. Jasmine giggles. It’s unfolding exactly how I knew it would.

“I wanted you when you were standing next to him at BUD/S graduation and when you stood by him through every deployment. The envy I felt at watching you love him is something I’m not proud of.”

Megan stands and rounds the table slowly.

He goes on.

I smile.

Smith remains unmoving.

“When I saw his feelings change, I thought yours might too. It was a shot in the dark because how do you penetrate a heart that’s belonged to only one person? Maybe I didn’t have to. Maybe your heart would recognize I’ve been there all along.”

Jasmine leans over. “Soap opera bullshit at its finest,” she snarks, and I shush her.

Finally, Smith turns around, just in time to see Megan stop in front of Moose. I can’t read his expression, but if I had to guess, it was indifference and relief, also just as I predicted.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner? You were there for me all that time and I always thought it was because Smith asked you to.” Why would a man in love ask his best friend to be there for his woman? Megan is beyond blinded at this point. It’s sad .

Moose shakes his head. “I wanted to be there for you, and I prayed Smith wouldn’t catch on.”

“Enough,” Smith says, cutting an arm through the air. “I’ve assumed this for a long time.” He crosses his arms and, if possible, stands taller. “Why not come to me first? Why not tell me first? Your best friend.” He enunciates the words “best friend” harshly.

“What type of best friend would I be if I admitted feelings for your fiancée? I’ve lived with this for so long it’s become second nature. Telling you was something I never planned on doing. Seeing her happy was the only thing that mattered.”

Megan’s face right now as she gazes at Moose is that of the sun saying hello to the moon for the first time. Relieved. She’s tired. He’s her sanctuary.

Moose turns back to face Megan. “And you aren’t happy right now. You haven’t been truly happy since Smith’s accident. Admit it. I know I make you happy. You laugh and smile when we hang out. I can make you happy. Please let me make you happy.”

Megan sobs and covers her face with both hands.

When she’s had a moment, she looks at Smith.

Smith looks at the floor. “He’s right. It’s true.

I love him. He does make me happy.” There it is.

The simple words I hoped for, but never in a million years envisioned her saying out loud in a room full of people.

I thought this conversation would play out in private.

“I don’t know how this happened,” she says .

Moose goes to wipe away a tear from her face but thinks better of it and fists his palm by his side.

I stand, tears running down my own face.

Jasmine follows quickly, her hand still entwined with mine.

“Finally. Finally someone gets a happily ever after inside this nightmare,” I say, closing my eyes and letting a sad smile creep onto my face.

“I’ve signed all the paperwork. Smith, if you could do the same, this will be finished. ”

“Why did you do this, Carina?” he snarls.

It’s my turn to turn my back, and I clear my throat. Jasmine walks to hug Megan and it’s to give me some semblance of peace with my thoughts. You never say the right thing when you need to. It’s the curse of a writer.

“I didn’t do anything. Your absence did this.

You have no one to blame but yourself. Sometimes life throws curveballs, and you adjust. I think that hanging onto the past is a good thing until it turns into a detriment in your real life and your future.

That’s what happened to me. I became the things that happened to me in my youth.

” A tear falls from my chin and lands on the flowered blouse.

“The evil translated into personality flaws. Your promises transformed into failed attempts at honor.”

I laugh once. A painful cackle. “And I’m not my past anymore.” Shaking my head, I stand straighter. “Good or bad, the past doesn’t control me.” I turn to Moose. He’s watching me carefully. Like I’m a loaded gun about to fire. “You both deserve each other. Be happy,” I say .

“You only have one life,” I whisper. Mostly for my benefit, but I know Smith heard too. It’s ironic, because he’s had two.