Girls' Guide to Flirting with Danger (12 page)

Devin spoke; people listened. He wanted something done; it got done. He had minions and assistants and interns at his beck and call. He had hangers-on and yes-men genuflecting and seeking his approval or support.

He could walk into any restaurant and immediately get a table. Random strangers in a bar would send drinks to him or pick up the tab. He played poker with the mayor and golf with the governor's son. She half expected to find he had the president on speed dial.

She'd known he was famous. She'd known he was popular. She just hadn't realized how popular and famous and rich and influential he was.

And it bothered her a little bit. More than a little bit.

The reasoning behind her unease didn't hold up under close scrutiny because Devin didn't seem overly affected by it. Aside from his disparaging comments about her apartment, of course. When she called attention to it, he'd just shrug and brush it off as being the nature of the business. This attitude worked—at least for him—but Megan still
felt uncomfortable in the spotlight. Granted, it was Devin's spotlight and she just happened to be sharing it, but that light illuminated all the problems and inequalities and potential issues in getting involved….

And it gave her an excuse, however flimsy and annoying Dev found it to be, to continue to return to her own apartment on a regular basis. As she was now.

Only one photographer waited for her this morning—down from four at the start of the week—so she smiled and waved as she climbed the steps.

The blogs had a field day with their public reconciliation, just as Dev had predicted, especially coming so quickly on the heels of Kate's disastrous—and now discredited—audio clip. Another appearance on Dev's show, several very public dinners and a few pictures of her leaving Dev's building in the early-morning hours had the media buzzing in a whole new direction. She'd gone from “psycho ex” to “the woman who might tame Devin Kenney” in a matter of days. Dev had been right about that much.

But she still didn't have a job or a plan for what she'd do next. The focus of the media attention had turned positive, which was nice on a personal level, but the attention was still there. No job meant no money, and she couldn't float for long on her meager savings. She couldn't—wouldn't—allow Dev to give her money, so something had to give one way or the other.

That was a more solid reason behind her return to her apartment every day. She and Dev might be “exploring possibilities,” but there was no sense in getting used to Dev's fancy condo on Lakeshore Drive or the limos or the box seats. Coming back to her place kept her from getting too complacent, reminding her nothing right now was permanent.

It also reaffirmed her commitment to not get into anything
serious while they were on such different playing fields. She'd done that before, and look how that had ended up….

No, she and Dev were having a good time, healing some old wounds and burying some ghosts from the past. That was healthy. That was positive. The fact it was repairing some damage to her ego and professional image was also a plus.

But she refused to read anything else into it.

She also
had
to find a job. Megan dropped her bag onto the couch and logged on to her email to see if she had any responses to the feelers she had out.

At the core of all this was the uncertainty, and that uncertainty was getting to her. Too much was up in the air for her to feel comfortable about anything. Her “possibilities that come from change” line wasn't at all comforting, and she was beginning to think it was the stupidest mantra she'd ever adopted. Much less tattooed on her body.

Her email in-box had plenty of messages, but none of any help. However, against her better judgment and over Manny's protests, Devin had put Manny to work on her behalf, and Manny's name in the return address of one message caught her attention.

 

Sorry, Megan. No one is biting. Honestly, you're just not as interesting now that you and Devin are a couple.

 

Being pronounced uninteresting stung a bit, but all things considered, that wasn't unexpected. Manny's casual use of “couple” to describe her and Devin, however,
was.
Some blogs had speculated about their possible couple-ship, mainly because Divorce Attorney and Marriage Counselor Reconcile made interesting headlines, but Manny?

No. Manny is just quoting public feeling about my uninteresting self, that's all.

But this was ridiculous. As she expected, she was too notorious to land another internship with any reputable clinic, and the amount of time she had to get her internship hours completed if she still planned to sit the licensing exam anytime soon was ticking away. Her first instinct on that was proving correct. The irony was kicking her, because now she wasn't notorious enough to get a job providing even weak psychotainment for the masses.

It was frustrating. Annoying. Scary. Normally, any one of those things would have her scuttling to get out and restore order to her universe. The only thing unnerving her now was her tepid response and inability to get overly worked up over it. She could blame—or was it credit?—the Dev-caused endorphins for the lack of overachiever response this should be causing.

Speak of the devil… Dev's ring tone sounded from the depths of her bag.

“Where are you, Meggie?”

“Home.”

“I just tried that number. Why didn't you pick up?” He sounded distracted.

She sighed. “
My
home, Dev. Not yours.”

“Why do you insist on going back there every day? My place is plenty big enough—”

“We've had this conversation, Dev,” she interrupted, and heard his exasperated sigh. “So what's up?” Clicking her email client closed, she set the computer on the coffee table and leaned against the cushions.

“Crazy day and I left a file in the kitchen….”

“Yeah, I saw one when I went to make coffee.”

“I was hoping I could convince you to bring it to me.”
She could hear the wheedle in his voice. “I'll take you to lunch after.”

Drive back to Dev's, get the file, drive to his office… It would be way past lunchtime by the time she got there. She looked around. It wasn't as if she had much of anything else to do today. “I guess I could do that.”

“I appreciate it. See you in a little while.”

She hadn't even had a chance to take off her shoes. She grabbed her keys and bag, locked the door and waved at the photographer again on her way out.

Halfway to Devin's she remembered his army of assistants and minions. Why didn't he send one of them to his apartment to get the file if it was so important? It would have been quicker and easier for everyone.

The next thought sent a chill through her veins. He was treating her like his wife again. And not in a good way. Belatedly she realized she'd set herself up for this exact thing—doing some cooking, running a different errand for him yesterday on her way home. They'd fallen back into some older habits, so why was she surprised about this one? After all, why send an assistant to do a job your wife could do—and had done—hundreds of times? What was next? Picking up his dry cleaning?

Talk about unequal playing fields…

Oh, no. This did not bode well at all.

 

The receptionist buzzed Devin to let him know Megan was on her way to his office. He looked at his watch.
That was quick.
Good. He could give the file back to Simon and send him over to meet with Mark from the ACLU. As soon as the publicity junkets surrounding his book ended—and he had Manny working on that—he'd be able to devote some time to this young man's case. Until then, Simon would
get some real-life experience being Devin's assistant in the preliminaries.

He called out when he heard Megan's knock. She'd been curled up under the covers when he left this morning, mumbling about catching up on her sleep. The stress was getting to her, he knew. The job hunt was going nowhere, she was worried about money and the state licensing exam, and even the adjustment of the media's attitude hadn't been able to lift that from her shoulders. She had a good game face, but he knew her too well.

If she'd just accept his help… No, Megan seemed determined to dig in her heels and go it alone. It was a bit insulting when he thought about it. She'd play his arm candy for the press, and she happily warmed his bed and body in the evenings, but she had a concrete wall around her that he couldn't breach when it came to anything more.

There was a pinched look on her face when she stuck her head around the door, and he knew not only had there not been any developments in the search for another internship, something else had gone wrong, as well.

“You okay?” he asked, knowing he probably wouldn't get a real answer.

“Great. Here's the file you left. And another one I found on the coffee table. I wasn't sure if you needed it.”

“Thanks, Meggie. You're a lifesaver.” She accepted the light kiss he pressed against her lips, but didn't respond otherwise. “Let me give this to Simon and I'll take you out for a quick bite to eat.”

“I'm not hungry. Thanks anyway.”

Oh, he knew that tone. He leaned against the desk. “Okay, what's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He waited.

“I'm not your lackey. Next time you need your errands run, ask one of your assistants.”

“I didn't realize it would be an inconvenience—”

“Because I don't have a job?” she challenged.

That might have figured into his request a small bit, but only a fool would admit that now. Not with Meggie getting her dander up already. “Would you believe it was an excuse to get you to come down here and have lunch with me?” That was true as well, and wouldn't give Meggie a reason to hand him his head.

“No, but you get points for trying.”

“You could've said no if you were busy.”

“I think we've established I'm not busy,” she grumbled. “I just don't think we should be falling back into any old habits one or both of us might resent.”

She'd been practicing that statement. And while he could tell Megan might not actively be looking for a fight, the set of her shoulders told him she wouldn't back down from one either. “Next time I'll send someone, okay?”

“Thank you.” Her shoulders relaxed. “Now you can buy me lunch.”

That was a turnaround. “So you're hungry after all?”

“Maybe.”

“Are we playing some kind of game?”

“No games.” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “I think we're both a little old for that, don't you?”

“And we know each other a little too well for it to work.”

Megan smiled. “That, too.” She pointed at the file. “I assume that's the case you were telling me about?”

He nodded. Poor Megan had had to listen to his lecture on the privacy doctrine and the Fourteenth Amendment for an hour the other night. And she'd done so wearing nothing but a sheet and a smile he hadn't seen since he'd done the
same thing in law school. “I'm sending Simon over to the ACLU office today.”

“It's nice to see you so excited about this.”

He
was
excited. It was an unusual feeling. “It's been a while, that's for sure.”

“But there are only so many hours in the day. When will you have time for it all? Your practice, the show, the book and now this.”

“Some things are going to be rearranged in the future.” He took the file to the hallway and waved down a paralegal with instructions to find Simon. Then he closed the door carefully behind him, making sure it latched. “I've been so caught up in show business—both mine and my clients'—I forgot I was a lawyer.”

“Good for you, Dev. This kid is very lucky—your smarts will help the case, but your name recognition will help, too.”

“Well, it definitely won't hurt.” He leaned against the desk. “The media seems to have ignored this case, but…”

She perched on the edge of his desk, as well. “But we know what happens to anyone who gets in your orbit. Instant headlines.” The small laugh Megan finished with couldn't mask the dry tone.

“Do you regret being back in my orbit?”

“No.” She looked at him sideways and smiled weakly. “Well, maybe a little,” she corrected. “I wish I hadn't lost my job over it, but being with you again…”

He waited as she thought.

“Honestly? Hmm, well, being with you doesn't suck, either.” The hand on the desk slid over to close around his.

It wasn't exactly the enthusiastic response his ego had hoped for, but he'd take it. A small tug was all it took to
pull Megan into his arms, and she rose on her tiptoes to capture his lips with hers.

Megan's kiss, whether she meant it to be carnal or not, instantly heated his blood. His hands tightened on her waist, pulling her closer, fitting her body to his.

Her shirt wasn't tucked in, and it was easy to slide his hand under the hem to find soft, warm skin. Megan jumped and broke away. “Dev! Someone could—”

“No one will.”

She gasped as he released the clasp of her bra, then sighed as his hands cupped her breasts. “I didn't come here for a nooner on your desk,” she protested weakly.

“Okay,” he said, then nearly laughed at the disappointed look on her face. He levered himself off the desk and led her to the other side of his office. “However, as you'll notice, shrinks aren't the only ones with couches in their offices.”

“H
AVE YOU TRIED CALLING
Dr. Kincaid's clinic?” Julie brought Megan a glass of wine and tried a little too hard to sound upbeat. “I hear…” She trailed off when Megan shook her head. “I've tried
everyone.
No one will touch me with a ten-foot pole. Well,” she amended, “Dr. Hearst at that clinic in Elgin seemed interested, but he's a bit of a quack. And I got the feeling he wanted to…” She couldn't finish.

“Wanted to what?”

“Touch me.”

“Ew.” Julie shuddered slightly.

“Tell me about it.”

“What can I do?” The concern was genuine. Julie had gone above and beyond Megan's expectations in trying to help. First by advocating with Dr. Weiss, then by sending out requests to her contact list to see if anyone needed an intern. Julie hadn't had any more luck than Megan herself.

“You've done everything you can, and I'm very appreciative. So this—” she indicated the wine and snacks “—is exactly what I need. Girl talk. Drinks without the sympathy. A chance to just hang out.”

“Mi casa, su casa.”
Julie's eyes turned sympathetic anyway. “And that can be literal, if necessary.”

“I'm not in danger of being evicted. Yet.” But it was still nice to know she had a place to go if it came to that. Julie's apartment was a castle compared to hers, but then, Julie's family was more well-off and she was still on their payroll. Megan didn't want to go to her parents for help just yet, even though they'd offered, because she wasn't willing to admit defeat. “Actually, I called one of my professors and he's got a possible lead for me.”

“Really? That's great.”

“It's a small clinic with low-income clients, and I'd be doing mostly substance-abuse work.”

“I hear a
but,
” Julie said.

“But the money is tiny. And it's in Carbondale.”

The wrinkle in Julie's nose said a lot. “That's like, what? Four hours from here?”

“Five and a half.” She tried to sound enthusiastic. “But the cost of living would be a lot less, so if I picked up a part-time job on the side, I might be able to make it work.”

Julie looked over the edge of her wineglass. “What did Devin have to say about this?”

“I haven't told him anything about it yet. He doesn't understand why I don't just move into his place as it is.”

“Honestly, neither do I.”

“Jules, would you move back in with your ex-husband?”

“I don't have an ex-husband.”

“Touché. But moving in with Dev isn't a great idea.” At Julie's doubtful look, she added, “Aside from obvious benefits, of course. Just because we lived together before, that doesn't mean we should be rushing right back into it. Anyway—” she took a long drink of her wine “—I'm not sure where Dev and I are heading at the moment, and I don't think he is either. Even if I did have an idea, it's still not an option.”

“Why not?”

She couldn't stop the pitiful tone that crept into her voice. “Because I'd feel like I'd failed at my own life and gone crawling back to him.”

“So you'd rather move away?”

“No, but at least I'd be succeeding or failing on my own.”

“You were succeeding just fine until Devin's career intersected with yours so disastrously. This isn't a failure, and even if it was, it wouldn't be your fault.”

“I know. But if I let Dev ride to my rescue, I'll never get my feet back under me. It would be like I hadn't accomplished anything over the last seven years, because I'd just be Meggie again. I can't do it. I
won't
do it.”

Julie looked at her oddly. “Is there something you haven't told me about your marriage?” she asked cautiously.

“It's nothing like what you're thinking.” She drank deeply from her glass while she tried to find the right words. “Part of what drove us apart was that I was just ‘Devin's wife.' He might not have been
the
Devin Kenney back then, but he wasn't much different than he is now. Popular. Important. On a smaller scale, of course, but still… I always felt like the sidekick—and not even a useful sidekick with my own superpowers and cool toys. More like the useless one you feel sorry for and can't understand why the hero puts up with them. I can't live the rest of my life as the sidekick.”

“It doesn't have to be like that. I didn't know you then, but I know you now, and you definitely aren't just a sidekick.”

“Thanks.” She fiddled with her glass some more. “Then, of course, there's also the very real possibility Dev and I could fall apart again. I can't risk my future on…on…on whatever this is we're doing.”

“
Is
that a possibility?”

“Anything's a possibility, but think about it, Dr. Moss. What do you think our chances are? Realistically.” Julie frowned.

Megan swirled the wine in her glass. “Exactly. Reuniting with your ex is all about remembering why you got together in the first place.”

“And the hot sex.”

Megan rolled her eyes. “I never should have told you that. Yes, there's fabulous hot sex, but I know better than to assume anything about any kind of future based on the hotness of the sex. You and I both know the problem with reunions is that all the reasons you broke up are usually there, too, lurking beneath the surface, just waiting to blow the whole thing to hell again.”

“But you know all the lurking problems, so…”

“If I was your client, would you be encouraging this?”

“Probably not.” Julie leaned over to refill both glasses. “But you're not my client. You're Dr. Megan.” She lifted her glass in a mock toast.

“I can't tell you how much I hate that name and what it implies.”

“Don't be such a snob. So four or five months in Carbondale, huh?” Julie shuddered delicately.

“You make it sound like I'm being exiled to Siberia. Carbondale isn't the ends of the earth.”

“But it's not Chicago, either.”

“It may take a crowbar to get you
out
of the city, but I'm a bit more flexible. Six months, tops, and I'll be back. Plus, there's the added perk of giving all of this time to really die down and be forgotten. I'll come back, get my license and we can start our own practice just like we planned. Only with one small detour.”

“You sound like your mind is made up.”

“Almost. I can't dither around with this. The clinic needs someone ASAP and I need a job ASAP. Something has to happen soon.”

“Which brings me right back to my earlier question. What about Devin?”

Megan didn't have a ready answer. Julie, good counselor that she was, sat quietly and patiently while Megan thought. “I've made a lot of decisions in my life where Devin was a weight on the scale. I moved to Urbana for him so he could go to law school, then I moved to Albany in spite of him. I'll admit Devin is one of the factors in this equation, but I really need to make this decision based on what
I
want and what's best for
me
in the long term.”

“And that is…?”

Megan took a deep breath and blew it out noisily. “I wish to God I knew.”

 

Megan was being uncharacteristically quiet tonight. She'd been getting less talkative for two days now, but had lapsed into almost complete silence tonight. Something was up, but Devin knew he wasn't any more likely to get an answer now than he had been yesterday or the day before.

But she was here, at least. She wouldn't stay at his place full-time, but she was spending more time here than at her apartment these days, so she might be coming around to the idea. It was progress.

Megan was curled up on one end of the couch watching the news while he stretched out with his laptop on the opposite end. They'd fallen back into what Megan used to call “old married people mode” as if they'd never been apart. It was familiar and oddly pleasant, and for the first time in a long time he'd started looking forward to his evenings off. He even found himself looking for ways to clear his
schedule to have more free time and actually have a life again.

So he was content to wait for her to talk. Whatever was going on inside her head, it couldn't be his fault, or he knew she wouldn't be here.
She might,
he amended,
but she wouldn't be silent about it.
He'd be getting an earful if it was his fault, so he knew the best approach to Megan's silence was to wait it out until she was ready to talk.

As if she heard his thoughts, Megan turned off the TV and nudged him with her foot. “I got offered a job. A chance to finish out my internship almost on schedule.”

He set the laptop aside. “That's great, Meggie. I told you you'd find one. There's a bottle of champagne still in the fridge….” He trailed off when she shook her head, and he belatedly,
stupidly,
realized she should be far happier about this news than her mood expressed. And since she'd waited so long to tell him about it, he probably wasn't going to be thrilled either. Tiny alarm bells went off inside his head.

“It's not perfect. The pay's not great and hours will be hellish, but I can't be too picky.”

“And?” he prompted, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

She lifted her chin. “And it's in Carbondale.”

Now he understood her mood. “Please tell me that's a little neighborhood in the suburbs I've just never heard of before.”

“No, it's actually the Carbondale.”

He chose his words carefully, not liking the sense of déjà vu that settled around this conversation. “Have you accepted it already?”

“No, I told them I needed to think about it, and I'd let
them know by Friday. If I take it, I'd have a week to get settled and start the next Monday.”

If she hadn't accepted it, then maybe she was giving him the chance to confirm his last offer. “You don't have to move to Carbondale. I've already told you—”

“That you'd help me out. I know. But I've told
you
—repeatedly—that I'm not looking for a sugar daddy to support me. I want to—I
need
to—accomplish this on my own.”

God, she was stubborn. “So you'd rather move to the opposite end of the state instead of accept money from me?”

She shrugged, and his irritation grew. “It's six months, tops.”

Here we go again.
“What about this?” He indicated the two of them.

That sparked her temper. “
This?
I don't even know what this
is.
It's certainly not enough to give up the opportunity to salvage my career.”

Of course. Her precious career was always the most important thing. “It never is, is it?”

“Oh, please. We're going to play
that
song again?” She rolled her eyes at him. “Grow up, Devin. Not everything can be about you. Some things have to be about me, you know? It's six months. Nothing can ever come of
this
if you can't handle six freakin' months.” Megan swung her legs off the couch and stood staring down at him. “Just once it would be nice if you could think for a moment beyond your life and your convenience. I put up with a hell of a lot more than six months in Carbondale for you and your career. Moving across the state, switching schools, delaying my graduation because all my credits wouldn't transfer…”

He'd heard this all before, and now she wasn't the only
one getting angry. “Yeah, and nothing was going to stand between you and your career. So you left.”

“Damn it, Dev. I'm not asking
you
to move to Carbondale.”

Of course not.
“Good.”

She made a face, but otherwise ignored his comment. “All I'm asking for is your support. Maybe a little cooperation. Just a little inkling that getting involved with you again isn't setting myself up for another crash. I had to choose last time—”

“And you chose your job then, too.”

“Because you weren't willing to look for ways to compromise so we could both be happy.”

“Compromise?” He snorted. “My choice was Albany or nothing.”

Her jaw dropped. “That's not true and you know it.”

“Really, Megan? Exactly where did I—or us, for that matter—rank on your list? Couldn't have been very high.”

“Don't even
try
to—”

“Oh, I tried. Back then
and
now. I kind of hoped your priority list might have changed a little. Guess I was wrong.”

“And I thought
you'd
changed. That you'd try to understand how grown-ups act in a relationship. An
equal
relationship.” She tilted her head in that way that annoyed him. “Guess we were both wrong.”

He'd been fooling himself that she'd changed. That she'd lost her tunnel vision and was willing to value something more than her job. Like maybe him, for once. But no. They were right back where they'd ended last time. “You got that right.”

Megan took a deep breath and her eyes narrowed. “You know, let's just forget it.”

“Forget what?”

“All of it. Everything that's happened since I made the mistake of getting anywhere near you again. You go back to your fabulous life and I'll see if I can salvage anything of mine. In Carbondale.”

He'd fallen into a time warp. She was walking out on him
again.
At least this time it had happened before he'd gotten all wrapped up in her like a lovesick fool. “If that's what you want, Megan, so be it.”

So be it.
The same words he'd used when she said she was leaving him last time. His jaw was even set at the same angle and his eyes held the same bitter coldness. Talk about déjà vu. She was twenty-two again, and her heart felt as if it had been slashed with a rusty blade. How could it hurt like this a second time? Had her heart forgotten it had been seven years? Had she just been fooling herself all this time that she was over him? As Devin stared at her, the twitching muscle in his jaw showing his anger, the pain in her chest spread until it was hard to breathe.