Girls' Guide to Flirting with Danger (13 page)

BOOK: Girls' Guide to Flirting with Danger
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She swallowed hard and spoke carefully to keep her voice from shaking. “I'm so glad we had this conversation, Devin. It's nice to know for sure absolutely nothing has changed between us.” The pang that shot through her emphasized the underlying truth of that statement. Oh, yeah. She'd been fooling herself. And doing a damn fine job of it until now.

She'd thought about this—Devin, the job in Carbondale, her, her career—from every angle possible the past couple of days. Obviously she'd managed to ignore the great big question right in front of her.

She had her answer now, though.

And she knew what she needed to do.

 

“And you just walked out? No more discussion?” Julie's jaw had been hanging open for most of this conversation, but when she did manage to get it working, Megan didn't like the questions. Julie was supposedly there to help her pack, but any packing on her part had come to a screeching halt as soon as Megan started relaying the showdown at Devin's.

“What more was there to discuss? Devin doesn't want me to take this job, even though it's the only way I'll get to finish something that's
very
important to me. It's so selfish of him.” She closed the box of glassware and strapped tape across the top. Thankfully, she didn't own a lot of stuff, and anything she didn't absolutely need, Julie had offered to store at her place while she was gone. “Last time around, I supported his goals, and he didn't support mine. I expected better this time.”

“May I point out that you didn't really give him a chance?”

Megan sat back on her heels. “I think I did. Devin sees this as a black-and-white issue. Either I stay or I go. No middle ground. I'm not playing that game again.”

“Look, I totally agree that Devin is being a bit of a schmuck, and personally I'd love to put him on a spit and slow roast him over hot coals for putting you through all of this. But honey…” Julie's mouth twisted. “I think you're being a bit irrational.”

“And I don't think I asked you.”

“Someone's testy.” Julie shook her head in censure.

“Wouldn't you be? I've had a rough couple of weeks, and I've earned my testiness. My whole life has been turned upside down.”

“And Devin's hasn't?”

“Maybe, but not as much as mine.
He
has a successful law practice, a hit radio show and a bestselling book. The
poor dear isn't exactly suffering from a little bad press caused by his ex-wife. I, on the other hand…” She sighed and rubbed her temples, trying to release the building tension. “I don't think it's too much to ask, but Devin acts like any ambition I have is some kind of direct slap to him.”

Julie tsked. “Sorry, honey, but that sounds like old baggage and self-pity talking.”

The barb stung. “You're not a very good counselor, you know,” she grumbled.

Unrepentant, Julie smirked at her. “You get hand-holding and ‘how does that make you feel?' when you pay for it. Since this is friendly—and free—girl talk, I'm allowed to tell you when you simply have your panties in a twist.”

Megan couldn't believe her ears. “You're really telling me to just get over it?”

“Hmm, maybe not get over it, but definitely grow up and act like a big girl.”

It was Megan's turn to go slack jawed. “And to think I'm the one looking for a job. You're the worst counselor I've ever met. I'm calling Dr. Weiss.”

Julie waved away the criticism. “But I'm a good friend, honey. I know you want this to be a Feel My Pain conversation—and I do, honestly, I do—but surely you know that you're not thinking clearly.”

Another sting. “So since this is girl talk and not actual counseling, tell me what you think I should do.”

“You know what you should do.”

Of course I do.
“Yeah.”

“Then call Devin. Apologize for acting like a child and clearly tell him what you want. Give him the opportunity to act like an adult, and maybe you two can work this out.” Julie raised an eyebrow at her. “You
do
know what you want, right?”

“I know what I don't want,” Megan mumbled, feeling a little sick inside.

“No wonder you two are flailing all over the place. Here's my unsolicited take on the situation. You two got divorced when some really good counseling would have been a better option. Then things go crazy, and you two are thrown back together again. Unsolved problems, emotions not laid to rest, some hormones and you're all messed up again. Am I right?”

The muscles in her stomach clenched around the rock settled there, but she nodded.

“But you know better now. You've worked with couples who were far worse off than you two are and straightened them out. There's nothing here that's unfixable if you're
both
willing to work on it.” She cleared her throat. “Solely in my opinion as the world's worst counselor.”

“But the bestest friend.” Megan thought for a minute. “Do you really think Dev and I can—could, maybe—make this work this time?”

“It'll be tough, but I don't think it's unrealistic to try. And at this point, do you have anything to lose?”

Yeah, I do.
Megan grasped for one last lifeline. “If I were your client—a paying client,” she amended, “what would you say?”

“I'd recommend some honest conversation about expectations, maybe with a counselor present to assist in keeping you both on topic…. You know the drill, Megan. This is pretty basic stuff.”

“I know. No wonder Dr. Weiss fired me. I suck.”

“Nah.” Julie patted her shoulder. “You're just in the middle of it. Where's Devin now?”

Megan looked at her watch. “Seven-fifteen on a Wednesday night… The studio. I guess I could call him after the show.”

“Excellent plan.” Julie swung her legs off the couch and slid her feet into her shoes. “I will get out of your way. You should shower and put on something pretty.” She eyeballed Megan's battered shorts and ratty T-shirt and frowned. “Or at least presentable. Invite him over tonight and work this out. Like adults.”

Megan considered the possibilities. The little spark of hope caused by Julie's pep talk began to glow and grow and relax the painfully clenched muscles in her stomach. “Thanks, Jules.”

“You're welcome.” Julie picked up her purse and headed for the door. “Call me tomorrow and let me know how it goes. I'll get the spit and fire pit ready, just in case. Good luck, honey.” She winked. “My bill will be in the mail.”

Once the door closed behind Julie, Megan reached over and turned on her stereo. Devin's voice filled the room, causing little tingles to dance across her skin. Now she didn't want to wait until after the show. She couldn't call the listener line for this, and Dev wouldn't answer his cell while he was on the air, but she could send him a text asking him to call during the break or once he finished. Maybe an email would be better?

The more she thought about it, the more excited and impatient she became. She could be at the studio before the show ended. She could wait outside until he was off the air….

The mention of her name cut through her buzzing thoughts and she froze. She'd been caught in the sound of his voice and ignored the words. But hearing the clipped “Megan” narrowed her focus. She turned up the volume.

“…and I'm telling you it's not worth it. You and your ex are exes for a reason. It's easy sometimes to forget that,
maybe even get caught up in the good ol' days, but the truth of the situation never goes away.”

“But,” the female caller interrupted, “you and Dr. Megan seemed to be—”

Dev's bitter laugh pained her. “See, there's the proof that anyone—it doesn't matter that they know better—can get caught in that trap. Temporary insanity can affect even the best of us.”

Her knees felt a little weak.

“My ex swears he's changed, and he really does seem to be different now.”

“People don't really change.” Devin turned sarcastic. “They tell themselves that, and they'll tell you that, but don't believe it. The truth is that people—at their core—can't change.”

In any other situation, Megan would challenge that statement, but the sick feeling in her stomach outweighed any professional outrage.

“Learn from my mistake, folks. It was certainly public enough.” He laughed. “Seriously, though, that's the danger of exes. Megan and I had a good run for a while when we were kids, but we shouldn't have gotten married in the first place. I felt sorry for her when the publicity from the book caused her problems—”

The sick feeling started to turn and churn as her anger began to rise.

“—and I let that plus the ‘everything old is new again' idea mess with my head. Yeah, hooking up with your ex is fun and exciting for a little while, but nothing good will come of it. That's stupid thinking, folks, and we've talked about stupid thinking on this show dozens of times. Stupid thinking causes you to lose the house
and
the car.”

Stupid thinking, indeed. Seems I'm guilty of that.

The caller tried to plead her case. “But sometimes, when we're together, it just seems so right and meant to be.”

She didn't think Devin's voice could turn any nastier, but it did. “You mean you're sleeping with your ex again.”

“Well…”

“That really
is
stupid. I don't care how good your ex is in bed—and honestly, half the time the reality isn't going to be as good as the memory anyway.”

A cold anger slithered down Megan's spine.

“Look, caller, I know I broke one of my top ten rules, and that probably confused a lot of you. But let's just look at this as a good lesson for everyone. We're all susceptible to the heat of an old flame—including me. And while I don't recommend anyone get mixed up with their exes again, if you are—or are looking at your ex and wondering if you should—accept that you made a stupid mistake and run for the hills, folks. Cut your losses.”

She wanted to throw something at the speakers. She wanted to smack herself for her stupidity.
I am an idiot.
She shouldn't have let Julie talk her out of her original plan, even for a minute. She'd been right all along.

“You're right, Devin. Thanks.”

“You're welcome, caller. We're going to take a short break, and when we come back, we're going to talk more about exes and when you should file for a modification to your original divorce agreement. I'm Devin Kenney, and I'm here to help you Cover Your Assets.”

I may be an idiot, but Dev's a jerk.
“Way to cover your butt with your listeners by throwing me under the bus, Dev,” she said to the radio.

Her earlier excitement had been replaced by indignation and strengthened resolve. She was going to use this as a learning experience and a stepping stone. She'd go into
exile in Carbondale, but she'd be back in Chicago soon enough. And when she did return…

Oh, she probably wouldn't be able to do much to Dev—at least nothing on a scale of what he'd done to her recently—but she wouldn't have her hands tied the way she did now.

She'd been right. Dev wasn't good for her—not then, and not now.

So be it.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A
FTER WEEKS OF HEARING
nothing but Megan this and Megan that—as well as having Megan in his life and bed again—the absence of all things Megan seemed very strange to Devin. With Megan gone there was little to feed the media circus, and when combined with a local politician's breaking sex scandal, Megan was off the city's radar completely. Her fifteen minutes were finally over.

His life went back to what would be considered normal for him: days at his practice, three shows a week and the occasional appearance for either the show or the book. But even the book's hoopla was dying down now as an organic-gardening-as-spiritual-self-help book made its rise up the lists.

But back to normal felt wrong somehow. It was disturbing because everything was exactly as it should be, yet it all felt hollow and empty. He was getting testy and short-tempered with his callers, even taking one to task on air for being superficial and greedy.
That
hadn't gone over well. He could trace his reaction and lecture right back to Megan—in fact, he might have quoted her at least once—so he held her responsible for his discontent.

The one bright spot in his life—the only thing really holding his interest at the moment—was his involvement with the student's case, which had now almost taken on a
life of its own. That involvement had been met with skepticism at first—after all, Devin had staked his professional claim as a divorce attorney, not a constitutional one—but he soon had the skeptics eating crow. That was exhilarating, except he had no one to share the thrill with.

Megan might have accused him of screwing up her life, but he wasn't exactly lovin' his right now either. They were even.

But that didn't make him feel better.

The only person more unhappy than Devin at the moment was Manny, a fact he reminded Devin of constantly. Like now. Devin had Manny on speaker phone, listening with only half an ear while he went through his email in-box.

“That organic-gardening girl is knocking you off the lists.”

“I'm still at number eight. I'm hardly toiling in obscurity.”

“We need to get you back out there meeting the people and making the papers.”

“I don't have time for that right now. This case is taking up what free time I have.”

“And that's my point. Pro bono do-gooding doesn't pay the bills.” He could almost hear Manny's pout.

At least Manny was consistent. Money talked. “Loan sharks on your case, Manny?”

“Plus, it's even less interesting than it is profitable.”

“We are in a sorry state in this country when the denial of a citizen's constitutional rights is considered uninteresting. I thought you could spin anything into headlines.”

“That is beyond even my abilities, Devin. Folks aren't interested, and I can't make them be. I'm rather hoping you have another ex-wife tucked away somewhere.”

“Dear God, no. One is plenty.” The horror in his voice was genuine, as was the pang that shot through him.

“Come on, Devin, give me something meaty to work with.”

“The Fourteenth Amendment is pretty enigmatic. Lots of meatiness.”

Manny groaned. “You're trying to kill me, right? What say we call Dr. Megan up and see if she's interested in—”

“No.”

“When you two are at each other's throats, you're golden. I think a regular He Said–She Said night might be a sellable idea. Maybe just once a week. What do you think?”

“No.”

“Can I at least see if Megan is interested?”

“No.”
So much for not hearing Megan's name every five minutes.
“End of discussion.”

“Fine.” Manny sighed dramatically. “Would you be interested in participating in a bachelor auction?”

A bachelor auction?
“You really shouldn't drink early in the day, Manny. It's affecting your judgment. Call me when you're sober. Bye.”

Manny was still sputtering when Devin disconnected the call. That brought a little smile to Devin's face. For some sick reason, he got a kick out of needling Manny.

Mostly because it was so easy to do. Manny was acting as if the world was ending just because Devin didn't want to renew his contract for
Cover Your Assets.
At least not in its current incarnation. It took up a lot of his time, and honestly, the pessimism was getting to him. If Manny wanted to continue as his agent, he needed to start thinking outside the box.

“Mr. Kenney.” His receptionist buzzed in, interrupting
his thoughts. “Dr. Julie Moss is here with a delivery for you.”

Julie Moss. She was one of Megan's friends. This was the closest thing to contact he'd had since Megan had stormed out of his place three weeks ago. His first worry—that Megan was sick or hurt—was relieved by the mention of a delivery. Maybe the delivery was a peace offering of sorts? No, he wasn't that lucky. But there was only one way to find out for sure. “You can send her in.”

“Um, okay.”

It was a strange response from his normally very professional employee, and he wondered if this Julie person was crazy or something. He got his answer when a woman opened his door, nodded a greeting, then held the door open for a man carrying a table.

The coffee table he'd given Megan.

The man set the table down with a grunt of relief, then extended his hand. “Nate Adams. I worked with Megan at the Weiss Clinic.”

“And I'm Julie Moss.”

Nate seemed friendly enough, but Julie's mouth pulled into a disapproving frown. This was going to be interesting. “Megan mentioned you both.”

“Good.” Julie replied tersely. “So you can assume she mentioned you to us as well, and we can skip over all the niceties.”

Blatant hostility. As a friend of Megan's, he didn't blame her. “What can I—”

“We're just returning the table. I'd have brought it sooner, but I needed Nate's help. It's heavier than it looks.”

“Indeed.”

Julie cleared her throat. “So Megan asked me to return this to you, and now I have. We'll go, and you can get back to your big, important, famous life.”

Sarcasm to go with the hostility. Julie was definitely on Megan's team.

He almost asked why Megan hadn't taken the table with her, but decided against it. “I haven't heard from her since she left.” Ignoring Julie's derisive snort, he directed his comment at Nate. “How's she doing?”

The younger man looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Um, fine, I guess. I really don't talk to her that much, you know.” He cut his eyes at Julie, as if she would jump in with an answer.

Julie was currently eyeballing him as if he was something she'd found stuck to her shoe, so the chances of any good information on Megan coming from that source seemed slim at best.

In the ensuing silence Nate cleared his throat. “Megan's in Carbondale. Working. Doing great stuff at their clinic. Or so I hear…”

“Good for her.”

“Yes, good for her,” Julie interrupted. “She's doing quite well in Carbondale. No thanks to you at all.” Julie turned to the other man with a false smile. “Nate, could you wait for me in the lobby? I need to talk to Mr. Kenney for a minute.”

Profound relief crossed the young man's face. “Of course. Nice meeting you.” He beat a hasty retreat, closing the door behind him.

Julie's smile faded when she turned back to him. “Let's cut to the chase.”

He leaned against his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. “By all means.”

“I don't like you.”

“Obviously.”

“In fact, I think you're a bit of a jerk. But, in your defense, Megan hasn't exactly been firing on all cylinders
lately, so part of that might be a simple reaction to her irrational behavior. Since you're mostly to blame for that behavior, though, you're still a jerk.”

“Is there a point you'd like to make, Dr. Moss, or do you just expect me to stand here and allow you to continue to insult me in my own office?”

“As delightful as that sounds, I know that's not likely to happen. Granted, Megan hasn't been the poster child of mental health recently, but I was actually on your side.”

“You'll pardon me if I find that difficult to believe.”

“I was at first. I even argued on your behalf. Told her how irrational she was being, and we had a major breakthrough.”

That would have been
after
Megan left me. For the second time. Interesting.

“Of course, then you went and threw her under the bus on your show.”

Guilt nagged at him. He'd been hurt and lashed out. It didn't make anything less true, but the execution had lacked finesse.

“After that,” Julie continued, ice dripping off her words, “I couldn't get her out of town fast enough. Hence me being stuck with this table in my living room where I've been tripping over it for the last couple of weeks.”

A slightly guilty conscience didn't require him to listen to more of this. “And now you've done your job.” He walked to the door and opened it. “Thank you, Dr. Moss.”

Julie opened her mouth as if she wanted to say more, then closed it with a snap. “You're welcome, Mr. Kenney.”

As she passed him, though, she stopped and eyed him from head to toe as if she was sizing him up for a fight. “Know, however, that Megan does plan to come back to Chicago. And if she's still after your blood then, I won't talk her down.”

“Why do I get the feeling you'll drive the getaway car?”

Julie shrugged. “Whatever she needs.” With a toss of her hair, she disappeared down the hall.

Devin closed his door and went back to his desk. Between Megan and her friend Julie, he had serious doubts about the relative sanity of so-called mental-health professionals. Craziness seemed to be a prerequisite for the job.

At least at one point, someone—other than him—had been trying to convince Megan she was overreacting. He could take a small bit of satisfaction in that.

However small. And cold.

But Julie's words about Megan being out for blood shocked him more than he wanted to admit. That side of Megan was new. Along with that backbone she'd grown in the past few years, she'd learned to carry a grudge, as well. She wasn't the same Megan he used to know, that was for sure.

That thought stopped him. Megan
wasn't
the same. She was a different person. He'd accepted and appreciated her new confidence but not that she wanted to be treated as an equal, instead of being taken care of. How had he managed to miss that?

He hadn't missed it; he'd ignored it. She'd told him directly numerous times and it hadn't sunk in. Seemed he was as hardheaded as Megan accused him of being. When faced with the possibility of reconciliation, he'd expected them to pretty much pick up where they'd left off—at least where they'd been before he asked her to move to Chicago. He'd enjoyed her new backbone and attitude, but hadn't processed the fact that it meant she wasn't the Megan he used to know.

Insanity was doing the same thing over again and ex
pecting a different result. He'd expected something different and then been surprised when he'd gotten the exact result as last time: Megan gone.

Either the crazy was contagious or he deserved every insult Megan hurled his way.

And it was pretty clear he wasn't crazy.

The only real question was whether or not there was anything left to salvage out of this mess.

 

Thursday was becoming Megan's least favorite day. There was a sound reason she didn't like a client list packed full of substance abusers, and Thursday was the day she had groups back-to-back-to-back. The host of other problems the substance abuse caused—with spouses, children, the law—was both depressing and demoralizing. Depressing because she got so tired of seeing families torn apart over it, and demoralizing because there was often so little she could do to really help. Most of the time the damage was done and she was just trying to help pick up the pieces. Not every counselor was made to counsel every kind of client. She knew that.

But it was tougher than usual right now. Rationally, she knew her feelings were being compounded by the sad state of her personal life. She didn't really have much of one to speak of.

She'd been so busy at the clinic since she arrived she hadn't had time to make any friends or even explore the town. What little free time she had, she was usually so exhausted or brain dead all she wanted to do was watch TV. She talked to her mom, and Julie called to keep her up-to-date on things in Chicago, but otherwise…

She was bored. She was lonely.

And she was pregnant.

It seemed there really was no end to the upheaval and chaos Devin Kenney could bring to her life.

Moving here hadn't gotten Dev off her mind; no matter how much she tried to focus on her job and lose herself in the work, he was always there, poking around the edges of her concentration. And if that wasn't enough, he seemed to haunt her dreams, leaving her feeling empty and frustrated in the mornings.

In fact, she'd almost ignored the fact she'd missed her period, assuming it was just stress and obsession over Dev manifesting in physical ways. How wrong she was.

She couldn't get Dev out of her mind, and now she was carrying his baby in her body, as well. His hold on her was permanent now.

Like it wasn't already.

They'd talked about having kids. Even discussed some baby names, although to no one's surprise, they'd never managed to come to an agreement.

Did the universe hate her? After falling in love with Devin, spending seven years trying to get over him, then falling in love with him again only to lose him again, she got pregnant with his child
now?

It was enough to make her want to pull her hair out.

At least she was being honest with herself. She was in love with Devin again and realizing she'd probably never really gotten over him in the first place. Having that understanding would help her get through this—even if it didn't make it hurt any less.

BOOK: Girls' Guide to Flirting with Danger
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