“Okay, okay.”
“You’re the one who just gave me the line about my writer’s imagination.”
“I said, okay.” She clicks her tongue. “You need to live a little.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I certainly will not.
Circumstances would have to be absolutely perfect for me to even consider something like that. We’d have to be miles away from anybody else. I wouldn’t even want there to be any animals nearby. Nobody wants to be stared at by, like, a cow or horse or something while they’re doing it.
Amazing, the way the mind works. Because the second I have that thought, the image of Phoebe floats through my mind. Sitting on the floor by the bed, watching me with her big golden retriever eyes and wondering why I make such funny faces while in the throes of passion.
Only there wouldn’t be any reason for that to happen since her owner and I would never engage in anything like that. No way, not a chance, never going to happen. Matt and I once shared a bed and, yes, I was naked and, yes, that was entirely my fault. But it’ll never happen again.
So, why did I think about her just then? Probably because she’s the only animal anywhere nearby.
“Well, you know I’ll be waiting with bated breath. Enjoy yourself. Just don’t enjoy yourself so much that you forget you’re writing a book,” she adds.
I guess the it’s all my fault you’re burned out Maggie is gone.
“Yes, ma’am,” I say before ending the call.
Now, there’s only one problem: how to keep the perfect man interested in me long enough to get anything worth writing about out of the deal.
“Because that’s what you’re in this for,” I remind myself while going to the kitchen for something to drink. “You’re writing a book. You’re not trying to form a deep, lasting connection. You are dating. You are having fun. Don’t put unnecessary pressure on the poor guy.”
It doesn’t help my current problem though. What was I thinking, offering to take the reins tonight? I don’t have the first idea what he’ll be interested in. Sure, he’s a nice guy, and he seems pretty down-to-earth. Everybody has their limits, don’t they?
Pacing around the apartment doesn’t help. It’s early afternoon, so Hayley will be neck deep in work. Not like it matters what time of day it is. She’s always busy, chronically busy. I’m sure if I were to ask her what I should do, she would tell me to put on my skimpiest lingerie and greet him at the front door, wearing that and a smile.
Good idea, but maybe not the direction I want to go tonight.
Who else can I ask? Matt might be finished with the bulk of his work for the day since he gets started so early in the morning, but I can’t see going to him with this problem. He’s probably still mad at me for missing our takeout-and-binge ritual.
And honestly, the more I remember what happened last night when Paxton first got here, I’m not sure I want to talk to Matt right now either. He can’t run around, acting like a moody child, and not expect at least a little pushback. Completely unnecessary, the way he acted. Like he had a personal grudge against Paxton.
So, he’s out too.
Hayley’s right. I need to expand my circle of friends.
The notion occurs to me that I might go to my social media accounts and ask my readers what they would do. That’s actually not a bad idea even if I don’t end up taking any of the advice they give me. One of the things I struggled with most during my two-week hiatus was how to keep my readers engaged. Frankly, I’ve never cared too much for social media. Not past high school anyway. We all lived on our phones at one point in our lives.
Things were different back then too. More fun, more social. It seems like all I find online anymore is stress and fighting. Not so much fun to be had there.
I post the question anyway, asking my followers to chime in with their ideas for the perfect date for a cowboy. This is most definitely a hint at the subject of my next book, which isn’t a bad thing either. It’s never too soon to start drumming up interest in the next project.
Keeping in mind that I will not likely find anything usable in the responses I receive, I turn to the only other person I would consider asking real advice from.
“She isn’t home, I’m afraid.” Peter chuckles softly. “Monday afternoons are when she has lunch with her friends.”
“Of course. I forgot. It’s easy to get the days mixed up when you pretty much do the same thing every day.”
“She tells me you met someone at the ball. See, I was right to suggest you go in my place.”
“Yes, that was very generous of you.” He can’t see me rolling my eyes, so I don’t bother holding back for his sake. “That’s the reason I was calling. I’m a little nervous about seeing him again tonight.”
“Why? Is he a decent type of man?”
“Oh, sure, he’s great. I just … I offered to come up with something to do tonight, and I’m completely at a loss. I don’t know what to do that he wouldn’t find, you know … pedestrian. Boring.”
“Oh, I see. That is a tricky one.” He pauses. “Does he strike you as being a snob?”
“Not at all actually. He’s the complete opposite. I don’t think I’ve ever known anybody so real and easygoing.”
Blake was a really nice, cool guy, but even he had his pretentiousness. Granted, I don’t know Paxton very well yet, but I very much get the feeling he’s more at home in a pair of jeans than in a tuxedo.
“Did the two of you do any talking about your personal interests? Was it all about business?”
“No, we talked about the things we like. Granted, I’m not really a college football fan, and I’ve never been hunting. But he likes movies. Old ones in particular.”
“Is he very familiar with the city?”
“No, in fact, he said he’s only been up here one or two times for business. It’s just recently that his father has had him traveling around to their different offices.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I know what I would like to do if I were the lucky young man going out with you tonight.”
“You sweet-talker. Save that for my grandmother.”
His laughter echoes in the large, spacious room. I’m not sure which one he’s in, but they’re all pretty big. “Come on. Do you think she falls for that sort of talk?”
“Good point.” I giggle. “Of course, I want to hear what you would want to do. Your opinion means a lot to me.”
“I’m honored to hear that. So, if I love old films and I’ve only been to New York one or two times, it might be fun to take a short tour of different locations that were made famous by a movie they were in.”
“Oh, that’s a great idea!”
“You aren’t just saying that to make me feel better?”
“Not at all! No, it’s a genius idea. I can make it into a goofy kind of touristy night. We could do silly things, go sightseeing. That’s perfect!”
“I’m glad I could help.” There’s so much warmth in his voice; I can tell he’s pleased.
What’s even better is the handful of readers who commented on my post, suggesting the exact same thing—at least, close enough. Acting like tourists, being tacky and terrible, showing him how we do it in the big city. More than one also suggests having a cowboy ride a horse through Times Square, but I can’t imagine that wouldn’t come with its own logistical challenges.