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“Hello, beautiful,” he answered. He sounded so upbeat, my heart hurt. Was I really going to break the book news to him today?
“Hi, baby.” I contained my sigh of regret. “It looks like I won’t be coming home tonight. I’m sorry.”
“Oh no! I was going to make baby fennel and corona beans for dinner.” It was legitimately cute the way he got excited over food.
“Is there any chance you could make it in the city?” I suggested, biting my lower lip in a wheedling expression he wouldn’t see, anyway. “I have something I really need to talk to you about, but it would be better if we were alone. AKA, not interruptable by my mom.”
“This sounds rather dire.” I sensed the uncertainty in his pause. “All right. It’ll give me an excuse to drive the McLaren with the new tires on.”
“And it’ll give you an excuse to spend the night with your super busy girlfriend,” I reminded him to straighten his priorities out. “I’ll get to the apartment at around eight. Keep dinner warm for me.”
“Yes, darling.” His sarcasm was noted.
I had to return fire. “I’ll expect my slippers and martini at eight fifteen on the dot.”
“Shall I wear pearls and heels to vacuum, as well?”
“Hmm…” I pretended to consider. “Nah, I don’t think you can pull off pearls. Wouldn’t mind seeing you in heels, though, so long as you’re not ruining mine.”
He chuckled and said, “All right. I’ll see you at eight. Or, if we’re going on Sophie time, I’ll see you at eight-thirty.”
“You know, this ‘Sophie is late all the time’ schtick is getting old,” I warned him.
“Five thousand dollars says you’re not home before nine.” He laughed.
“You’re on.” I hung up on our immature bet—our money was all lumped together, anyway—and resolved that I would get home at seven-thirty.
* * * *
I got to the apartment at nine-thirteen.
Neil was in the living room, reading in front of a deliciously warm fire. He didn’t bother to look up. “Right on time.”
I dropped my purse and laptop bag by the living room door and threw my coat over them. I went to Neil’s side and dropped a check, written for five-thousand dollars, into his lap. “I wrote it in the car.”
“You should have written it while we were on the phone.” He looked up and gave me a wink as he tore the slip of paper in half. “I didn’t wait for dinner. I thought I might starve to death before you arrived.”
“Ha ha.” I collapsed beside him on the couch, and he put an arm around me so I could lean against his chest. “I have to break some bad news to you.”
“Well, it’s probably going to be better if you say it all at once,” he advised, working his fingertips into my hair to massage my scalp.
I was loath to stop the petting. “There’s an advanced copy of Steven’s book. Valerie gave it to me last night. I didn’t want to ruin your birthday.”
His hand went very still, his body slightly rigid. “You…you didn’t read it, did you?”
I sat up, so I could look him in the eye and promise, “No. I will never read that book without your permission to do so.”
He seemed to ease up a bit. “Thank you for telling me about this now, rather than weeks from now.”
“I’m showing progress.” I paused. “There’s more. The book is going to come out in June. As in, the June when we’re getting married and Emma is having the baby.”
“He never was good with timing.” Neil was going for grim humor, but he didn’t quite make the humor half. “I suppose I’ll have to read it.”
“I don’t think anyone would expect you to.”
“No, I have to read it,” he insisted. “I need to know what he’s going to say about me, and our relationship. I don’t want it to come as a shock if I’m asked about it. Our wedding is going to bring us a bit of attention, and I’d like to prepare my response should this come up.”
“Probably smart.” I quirked my lips sympathetically and put a hand on his knee. “I’m going to get my food. Do you wanna come with?”
