Chapter Two
* * *
A few nights later
258 West 15th Street, Jane and Roxanna’s apartment
AFTER A LONG day working at the New York Public Library, I came home to write for a few hours before heading over to Duke’s apartment. I wanted to see him before his flight to San Francisco—if it was still on. A hurricane was expected to hit the city and already tons of flights had been canceled.
It should be noted that “by writing for a few hours” I meant staring at the bright white screen of a Word document devoid of any actual words other than Untitled Wallflower Novel #3.
I added by Jane Sparks.
Then I deleted it and replaced it with By Maya Rodale. That was the pseudonym I published under.
I drummed my fingers lightly on the keyboard, which only served to draw my attention to the fourth finger of my left hand, which only served to remind me that I had lost my fake engagement ring for my fake engagement with Duke.
I stood up and checked my jewelry box—I could have sworn I’d left it there! I looked under the bed, in pockets of various handbags and in my desk drawers. It was gone, and with it—all my good luck.
No ring. No idea of what to write.
I had more bad luck, too: The dry cleaner had lost my favorite cashmere sweater-set. The train line I took to work was under construction so my commute was more hectic. We had a new neighbor who loved to blare club music really loudly, really late. I had forgotten my mom’s birthday. My book sales were leveling off. Ok, tapering down.
It seemed I was on a losing streak.
Duke, on the other hand, was on a winning streak of epic proportions. Soon he wouldn’t be the Bad Boy Billionaire who had foolishly lost a billion dollars thanks to some bad decisions and bust of his first two companies. He wouldn’t be the guy who was a startup failure—twice. It seemed the third time was a charm—this company was a success and built to last.
Third times a charm. Untitled Wallflower Novel #3.
I decided to check Facebook. Perhaps that would provide some inspiration.
Sam Chase: Wondering what it’s all about.
2 Likes 1 Comment 0 Shares
Milford High School: Just a few more days until the big anniversary celebrations!!! Make sure you RSVP ASAP!!!!
53 Likes 14 Comments 1 Share
Kate Abbott: Love life sucks but work life is fantastic!
Miranda Sparks: Thank you for the lovely birthday wishes!
22 likes 8 Comments 0 Shares
Sam Chase: Losing Streak.
0 Likes 0 Comments 0 Shares
When my Facebook newsfeed became a deluge of wedding and baby pictures, I shut the browser window and checked Twitter instead.
@NYCGOV: Hurricane #Geoffrey expected in New York City TONIGHT. Check out these storm prep tips. http://on.nyc.gov/1aGWYqz
@RoxannaLane: Congrats to my friend @Jane_Sparks for her book hanging out in the top 100 historical romances on Amazon.
@Jezebel: Is Maryville, Missouri the Next Steubenville? http://bit.ly/1aGWT6g
@LizaPalmer: 11 Pieces of Advice From Amazing Women http://bit.ly/1aCeptH #amwriting #writingtips #pubtip
@Accuweather: Get ready, New York City! Hurricane #Geoffrey is expected to be category 4 hurricane.
@KatharineAshe: Stilettos: the 21st-century equivalent of the whalebone corset.
@DukeAusten: Only one week until Project-TK’s IPO.
@RTBooks: New Review: The Wicked Wallflower! http://bit.ly/1alkm9T
@LadyMissPenny: Just lounging in my statement necklace. instagram.com/p/jZoJL9R8rW/
@NYTimes: Scientists agree global warming is to blame for super storm #Geoffrey.
@Jane_Sparks: Writers block is The Worst. THE WORST!
@Gawker: Just want you wanted to read during #Geoffrey: a tell-all book about @DukeAusten by his ex-girlfriend.
Of course I clicked that link. I mean, really. I didn’t expect to read anything new. After all, I knew the man. Intimately. But how could I not read it?!
Secrets of the Bad Boy Billionaire: The Duke Austen Nobody Knows
One of Duke Austen’s many ex-girlfriends, Felicity Prescott, is writing a tell-all book about the Bad Boy Billionaire. Prescott reportedly dated Austen while they both worked at the now defunct startup, Friendly. Her book details why that oh-so-promising startup totally went bust, starting with Duke’s wild behavior and their tortured relationship.
My reading was interrupted by the arrival of a text message from Sam.
Sam Chase: I’m in town. Need to talk. Can we meet for a drink?
I hesitated. Sam had been weird lately—lots of confusing text messages, Facebook posts and long emails philosophizing about life choices and a man’s role in the modern world. Or something like that. I’d just been too busy to figure out what he was talking about to compose an appropriate reply. That, and I just didn’t really want to deal with it. I cared about him deeply, but I wasn’t too keen to be his therapist. Or his drinking buddy on a night like this.
But I had loved this man deeply for a long time. We’d been high school sweethearts and I thought he would be my husband and the father of my children. It was his idea for us to break up. Though it hurt like hell for a while, I was now glad. My life was so much more amazing because of it.
So even though he was acting weird, I had loved him and he seemed to be in a rough patch. We could still be friends, right?
Besides, it’s not like I would get much writing done anyway.
Another text message interrupted me, this one from Roxanna.
Roxanna Lane: Working late. Might swing by with you know who. Don’t be there? XOXOXO!
Well that settled that. I was going out. After one drink, I’d head over to Duke’s place. I doubted that his flight would be taking off after all and it’d be nice and romantic to ride out the storm together.
One glance at Twitter told me this had better be a quick drink.
@NYCGOV: Batten down the hatches! Subway is closing at midnight. Bridges and Tunnels will be closed at 10pm. #Geoffrey
I texted Sam back.
Jane Sparks: Let’s meet in 20 minutes and make it quick—storm’s a-coming!
Sam Chase: I’m at that bar we met at before. Our place in the city.
I decided a quick outfit change was in order. I looked through my closet for the perfect outfit that said “FRIEND ZONE!” I settled on boyfriend jeans, black patent ballet flats and my second favorite sweater set, a charcoal grey cashmere shell and cardigan.
Since I would be heading over to Duke’s afterward, I quickly tossed some things into a bag: a change of undies and some toiletries along with the usual phone, wallet and keys. I grabbed my bag and trench coat and dashed out, down the four flights of stairs to the front hall and then down the very steep front stoop. From there, I headed downtown. Hopefully, I wouldn’t encounter the storm tonight.
But I did, oh I did.