keeping you by choice. I want you to stay married to me, what do you say? Think we can make this crazy relationship work?”
He lightly kissed my lips. “I know we can.”
The Next Day
The first big meeting with my new PR firm actually happened at Abbi’s house in the suburbs. It wasn’t as much of a meeting as it was the fact that one of her kids was home sick from school and she couldn’t go anywhere else so we all decided to meet at her house.
Abb i lived in an absolutely cookie-cutter neighborhood. Her husband was a lawyer making well over six figures, so they lived in one of those houses that they always showed on house hunting shows for people who couldn’t actually afford it, but they wanted to live there. I parked in the driveway next to Pam’s minivan and walked up the cobblestone path to the red door of the large, two-story home. It may have looked like something that could have been on TV or in a magazine, but as soon as I rang the doorbell and Abbi opened the door it was a madhouse.
Abbi stood in the doorway wearing a pair of old sweatpants and a gray Illinois State University hoodie with a Bluetooth headset on her ear, talking to a client instead of to me.
“Yeah, Phil, I know that isn’t what you ordered and I’m looking into it now.”
“Come in,” she mouthed to me and motioned for me to come inside.
I took my shoes off by the door even though I may have n eeded them for the landmine of Legos that lined the wooden floors of her foyer and lead a trail were Abbi walked, dodging each little death trap.
I stepped over them and followed her through the large living room , where her son was lying on the couch with a blanket over him and some war videogame playing on their projection TV. She stopped once we were in the kitchen and Pam was sitting at the breakfast bar on her laptop. The large, white kitchen with all of the stainless steel appliances was a cook’s dream. Wes would have loved it, but for Abbi and her family it was more of a place to store take out and another place for Lego landmines. I grabbed my foot as soon as my toe came in contact with another death trap.
“Watch out for those, they bite,” Pam said, glancing at me from her laptop.
“Yeah, you’re telling me.” I sat down on the stool next to her.
“Want to see what I’m working on while Abbi deals with Phil and his cheese crisis?” Pam raised her eyebrows.
I shrugged, setting my laptop bag on the counter. “Sure, why not?”
She turned the laptop screen toward me and I was staring at myself. It was one of the pictures from the photo shoot. The first one in which we weren’t even posing, but Wes was tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and talking to me. There was obviously a little bit of photo shopping done since my hair wasn’t frizzing at all and my eyes popped, staring at him as he looked back at me like there was something unspoken between us. I could feel the sexual tension bursting out of the picture.
“Wow, the photographer is good,” I whispered.
Pam shook her head. “It’s not the photographer. It was all you and Wes. Watching you two pose together felt like we were all interrupting some private moment. You guys definitely have something.”
I smiled, looking away from the computer. “Yeah and I think so too.”
“Really?” Pam raised her eyebrows.
I nodded. “Yeah, I don’t think the whole divorce thing is going to work.”
“Yes!” She pumped her fist and turned her head, cupping her hand over her mouth like a megaphone, “Abbi you owe me fifty bucks!”
I raised an eyebrow when she looked back at me. “Did you two make a bet on my marriage?”
“Not a real one. It was all in fun.”
Abbi turned off her headset, setting it on the counter, and stood on the opposite side of us, like she was about to serve us breakfast or something. “Valerie’s not getting a divorce?”
“You two did make a bet on me!”
Abbi laughed. “Oh come on! We were joking and I’m actually
He lightly kissed my lips. “I know we can.”
The Next Day
The first big meeting with my new PR firm actually happened at Abbi’s house in the suburbs. It wasn’t as much of a meeting as it was the fact that one of her kids was home sick from school and she couldn’t go anywhere else so we all decided to meet at her house.
Abb i lived in an absolutely cookie-cutter neighborhood. Her husband was a lawyer making well over six figures, so they lived in one of those houses that they always showed on house hunting shows for people who couldn’t actually afford it, but they wanted to live there. I parked in the driveway next to Pam’s minivan and walked up the cobblestone path to the red door of the large, two-story home. It may have looked like something that could have been on TV or in a magazine, but as soon as I rang the doorbell and Abbi opened the door it was a madhouse.
Abbi stood in the doorway wearing a pair of old sweatpants and a gray Illinois State University hoodie with a Bluetooth headset on her ear, talking to a client instead of to me.
“Yeah, Phil, I know that isn’t what you ordered and I’m looking into it now.”
“Come in,” she mouthed to me and motioned for me to come inside.
I took my shoes off by the door even though I may have n eeded them for the landmine of Legos that lined the wooden floors of her foyer and lead a trail were Abbi walked, dodging each little death trap.
I stepped over them and followed her through the large living room , where her son was lying on the couch with a blanket over him and some war videogame playing on their projection TV. She stopped once we were in the kitchen and Pam was sitting at the breakfast bar on her laptop. The large, white kitchen with all of the stainless steel appliances was a cook’s dream. Wes would have loved it, but for Abbi and her family it was more of a place to store take out and another place for Lego landmines. I grabbed my foot as soon as my toe came in contact with another death trap.
“Watch out for those, they bite,” Pam said, glancing at me from her laptop.
“Yeah, you’re telling me.” I sat down on the stool next to her.
“Want to see what I’m working on while Abbi deals with Phil and his cheese crisis?” Pam raised her eyebrows.
I shrugged, setting my laptop bag on the counter. “Sure, why not?”
She turned the laptop screen toward me and I was staring at myself. It was one of the pictures from the photo shoot. The first one in which we weren’t even posing, but Wes was tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and talking to me. There was obviously a little bit of photo shopping done since my hair wasn’t frizzing at all and my eyes popped, staring at him as he looked back at me like there was something unspoken between us. I could feel the sexual tension bursting out of the picture.
“Wow, the photographer is good,” I whispered.
Pam shook her head. “It’s not the photographer. It was all you and Wes. Watching you two pose together felt like we were all interrupting some private moment. You guys definitely have something.”
I smiled, looking away from the computer. “Yeah and I think so too.”
“Really?” Pam raised her eyebrows.
I nodded. “Yeah, I don’t think the whole divorce thing is going to work.”
“Yes!” She pumped her fist and turned her head, cupping her hand over her mouth like a megaphone, “Abbi you owe me fifty bucks!”
I raised an eyebrow when she looked back at me. “Did you two make a bet on my marriage?”
“Not a real one. It was all in fun.”
Abbi turned off her headset, setting it on the counter, and stood on the opposite side of us, like she was about to serve us breakfast or something. “Valerie’s not getting a divorce?”
“You two did make a bet on me!”
Abbi laughed. “Oh come on! We were joking and I’m actually
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