“She’s been really stomped on, Josh. More than you can possibly understand.” Her tone was becoming decidedly snippy.
“I might, but no one seems willing to talk about it,” he argued.
“It’s not that easy. And I’m not going to tell her story for her. Now that you two are…whatever you are, what she tells you is her call.”
“Oh? And who submitted her story to a publisher?”
You go, Josh. I smiled.
“Publishing is different. It’s not personal…not really. Part of the reason I want this for her”—she thumped something—“is so she can feel a sense of self-worth again. He’s taught her to feel useless.”
“She seems to feel responsible.”
“You talked about it?” Shannon sounded incredulous.
“Not really. I tried, but she was…nervous. I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable or push any more than I had.” His voice was gentle, making my heart respond unexpectedly.
There was a long pause before Shannon spoke. “She doesn’t want to be labeled a victim. But that’s exactly what she is. Was.” There was another long pause. “Don’t hurt her, Josh,” she whispered.
“I won’t hurt her.” His voice sounded anguished and my heart lurched at the sound.
I rolled on the couch, mumbling a little and rubbing my eyes. I have no idea if I succeeded in waking up or not.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” Shannon offered me a glass of wine.
I took the glass and smiled at her.
“Sorry, I didn’t sleep much last night.” As soon as the words were out, I blushed. Had I really just said that aloud? I studiously avoided Josh.
Shannon raised an eyebrow, but let my slip slide. “How was your spa day?”
I smoothed my crazy curls. “Well, I slept through the mud bath and the massage. I have no idea why I fell asleep now.”
Josh came to sit by me, a smile breaking across his face. I could feel an answering smile pulling at the corners of my mouth in response. “Travel makes me tired.” He caught my hand in his easily.
I stared at our hands together and felt my heart thud. Josh squeezed my hand once and I met his gaze. It was so damn ridiculous. It wasn’t fair. He was so absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful. I had to smile whenever he did.
Shannon sat across from us, rolling her eyes at the exchange. She peered at the contract I’d shoved under the edge of the couch before dozing.
“Did you even look at it?” She leaned forward and pulled the contract from under the couch.
“No.” My voice didn’t convey the bite I wanted. “But I feel much more inclined to read now. Did you bring your scripts? Am I allowed to read them? I mean, is it too nosy of me?” I waited.
“I was hoping you’d say something like that.” His gaze fell to my lips, distracting me from his response. He reached to the floor then sat up. “I left them in the car,” he said, smiling ridiculously. “I’ll be back in a moment.” He winked at me, shook his head at Shannon, and
walked from the room.
She barely waited for him to leave the room. “You’ll help him make his big decisions, but you’re going to keep putting your own life on hold?”
“Are you trying to pick a fight?” I pointed at the contract as I spoke. “Even if I thought this was going to somehow make my life easier or more logical or even less…challenging, what difference does it make right this minute?” I stood up and stared at her, grappling with my anger. “And I like my life,” I lied, but she cut me off.
“You like it? You don’t want more? You used to. You wanted to travel, to focus on your writing. You used to paint, too, all the time. Remember?”
I shrugged. “I have responsibilities.”
“You have kids, and bills to pay, I know that. And you don’t want to be a charity case or rely on someone else to provide for you and your crew. I get it, I do. Publishing this book gives you options, real options.”
“These are your options.” I looked at her for a minute, trying to explain without getting upset. “Don’t you see that by submitting this, you’ve put me into yet another situation that isn’t my choice?”