Either way, she didn’t want to think about it.
The rest of the week went as normal. No more surprise “go to my place to pick up something I forgot” tasks. Amandine hadn’t hired an assistant yet, but Hilary was certain Kim would get the job. The young woman was smart, dedicated and well-organized—just the thing her boss’s artist wife needed.
That Sunday Hilary finally moved into her new place. It was a fairly new apartment complex with great amenities. It wasn’t even that far from the office, and the tenants were mostly young professionals, which was perfect. By the time the movers had set up her furniture and placed all the boxes where she wanted them, it was almost four. Hilary plopped on the floor and stretched out her legs. “Man, I’m going to be sore tomorrow.”
“Tell me about it,” Jo said, downing some kind of super mineral water with extra vitamins. She tossed one to Hilary. “Drink that. It should help.”
Hilary looked at the cheery yellow label dubiously. “Does it really work?”
“Yup.”
“No placebo effect?”
“I don’t care what effect it is as long as it works.”
Jo liked all natural healthy stuff, while Hilary preferred something that worked for certain and fast. Hilary took a small sip. The last “health” drink Jo had raved about had tasted like chemicals and dirt. This one had a hint of citrus, so Hilary downed it fast. She’d worked up a serious thirst.
Hilary’s phone buzzed. Jo’s eyes narrowed while Hilary checked the message. It was from Lila.
“Your aunt, right?” Jo said.
“Yeah.”
“What does she want?”
“She said she has no appetite, but wanted to know if I planned to come by, in which case she’d make something.”
“I swear, she just doesn’t want to let you go.”
“Guess not.” Hilary sighed. It was really too bad about Lila, but it was obvious her aunt wanted drama in her life because it gave her the attention she craved. Lila needed to find a more positive force. Something like going out and getting herself a nice elderly gentleman friend who would treat her right. Hilary just couldn’t be Lila’s companion anymore. She needed to live her own life.
Jo went to the balcony and looked outside. “Maybe I should rent my place out and move here,” she said. “Look at all those hot young male bodies by the pool. Mmm-hmm.”
“Really?” Hilary didn’t move from her spot. She had zero motivation. No man would ever compare to Mark. Maybe she’d be compelled to find somebody when time had put enough foggy layers over her memory so that her heart no longer ached at the thought of him. But right now, everything was too fresh and raw. She needed some time to grieve for the relationship that had been set up to fail from the beginning.
A clear male voice rose in a familiar melody from “Love Me Tender.” More voices joined.
“Oh my god! Hilary, come on. Get up and come here.” Urgency filled Jo’s voice, and she waved her hand fast. “Now!”
That got Hilary to her feet. She went to stand next to Jo and watched six men by the pool sing a cappella. They started to move toward Hilary’s unit. As the song reached its climax, they all held up their right index fingers, then made heart signs with their hands. Then each singer pulled out a card with a different letter on it. When they held them up in a row it spelled H-I-L-A-R-Y.
Was this what Mark had meant when he’d said he’d convince her of his love?
When it was finished, the spectators clapped. Her heart beat with something like scared little hope, and Hilary blinked away moisture gathering in her eyes before it could fall.
“Wow, that was great,” Jo said.
“Yeah.”
“So… Who’s the mystery admirer?”
Hilary swallowed. “There’s no mystery. It’s Mark.”
“Mark Pryce?” Jo’s eyes grew large. “I thought you guys were finished.”
“We are.”
“I don’t know.” Jo said, folding her arms and sing-songing the last word. “It doesn’t look finished.”
“It’s just a stunt. It doesn’t mean anything,” Hilary said, while her heart fluttered and chanted
liar
,
liar
,
liar
.
“You sure? It certainly looks like something.”
The doorbell rang. Grateful for the interruption, Hilary went to answer it, only to be faced with a smiling delivery guy with a giant basket of pale pink orchids and a big box of Belgian chocolates. “Are you Ms. Hilary Rosenberg?”
“Yes.”
“Please sign here.”
She scrawled her name, feeling Jo’s avid gaze on her back. As soon as the delivery guy left and the door closed, Jo pointed her perfectly manicured index finger at the flowers and chocolates. “See! The troubadours and now this!”
“Oh come on,” Hilary said. “They’re probably from Gavin. He knows I’m moving today.”
“Really?” Jo snatched the card from the flower basket and read it. “I had no idea Gavin had a romantic interest in you.”
“Gimme that!” Hilary took it from her best friend’s hand. The message read:
I love you
. It wasn’t signed, but she didn’t need that to know who was responsible.
“He’s crazy about you,” Jo said. “I’m sure he’s never told any of his exes ‘I love you.’ His sister said so.”
“She must not know him that well. He’s just unhappy about my ending the relationship early.”
Liar, liar, liar.
Hilary’s phone buzzed. She looked at the text.
Hope you enjoyed the show
.
I love you
.
She wasn’t going to answer that. She wasn’t.
How do you like the chocolate?
Definitely not going to dignify that either. She opened the package and shoved it at Jo. “Here you go.”
“You don’t want any?”
“I’m on a diet.”
Jo snorted a laugh. “You? A
diet?
When pigs fly.”
“Shut up.”
The phone danced on the counter again. Ignoring it, Hilary crossed her arms and watched her friend enjoy a piece of dark chocolate.
“Ohmigod. It’s eighty-five percent pure,” Jo said, groaning loudly like she was about to orgasm. “You sure you don’t want any?”
Eighty-five percent. Her favorite. It was no coincidence. Hilary closed her eyes, knowing she had lost.
She popped a piece into her mouth and moaned. “Oh my god.”
“Mark knows his food.”
Hilary nodded. Her phone buzzed again, and Jo put it in Hilary’s hand. “Answer the damned thing. I don’t think it’s going to stop until you do.”
“Fine.” Hilary opened her eyes and flicked her finger over the screen.
I love you
.
Have dinner with me
.
“What does it say?” Jo asked.
“It’s a stalker.”
Jo peered at her. “Is ‘stalker’ the new word for ‘smokin’ hot billionaire who’s crazy about you’?”
“I told you, he’s not crazy about me.” Hilary had to remind herself of that critical fact before she did something stupid, like texting back
Okay
.
“He so is. Put him out of his misery. Go out with him. Have fun. Bebe’s gone now, so you can’t think he’s doing this to do that whole half-sister-slash-cousin threesome thing you were worried about. You need some romance in your life, you know. And Walt doesn’t count even if he did turn out to be innocent after all. You had zero chemistry with the guy. I’m not even sure why you thought to marry him.”
Hilary ticked off the list of qualities she’d told herself trumped everything else. “Stable job. Good pay. Careful in his decisions. Well-educated.”
Jo yawned. “Bo-ring. Where’s the romance, Hilary? How about things like hottie, good in bed, well-hung, great body, nice ass, gorgeous mouth, amazing stamina, can make you wet with a look…” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “You know…things that make life a little more interesting.”
“That’s how I ended up with Freddie. I wanted those things. The same with my mom and aunt and Tim. They wanted heat, passion and drama, and all of them ended up like that.” Hilary rolled her wrist. “Mom lost the will to take care of herself once Tim was gone. So to get that amazing emotional high back, she started to self-medicate. When pot and E stopped working, she started on crack…and one day she OD’d. I am
not
going to be like her. I’m going to be a responsible person. An adult.”
Jo sighed. “You are. That’s the problem. You’re too responsible. Imagine yourself in a nursing home thirty years from now. Are you going to look back and say, ‘Wow, I had a great life. I was never late for work, and my vibrator worked pretty well.’”
Hilary tried to keep a serious look on her face, but ended up smiling. “It’s not that simple.”
“Nothing’s ever simple. I just don’t want you to ignore possibilities out of fear. Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith, believing that somebody’s going to catch you.”
Hilary made a noncommittal noise. Sure, for somebody like Jo—beautiful, successful, confident—it might be easier. But it wasn’t so simple for Hilary. Mark wasn’t just some fun guy who was good in bed. He had the power to destroy her, and she couldn’t take that leap. What if, one day, he wasn’t there to catch her?
* * *
An hour later, Mark was on the phone. “So how did it go?”
“She liked it,” Jo said. It had taken an hour to extricate herself from Hilary’s place. “Although I think you should’ve serenaded her yourself.”
“A man’s got to know his limitations. I wanted her to enjoy it, not flee in horror.”
She chuckled. “You did pretty well. I’m sort of impressed, but she’s not totally into it yet.”
“Well, I have other plans in the works.”
“I wasn’t kidding when I told you I’d kill you if you make her unhappy,” Jo said.
“Don’t worry. I wasn’t kidding when I told you I’m going to make her the happiest woman in the world.”
* * *
Apparently her lack of response hadn’t deterred Mark at all. On Monday, every radio station in LA was playing songs dedicated to “the very special love of my life, Hilary Rosenberg” every hour on the hour. Hilary had to turn off the radio.
When she walked into the office, Sally jumped to her feet and said, “Oh my god, Hilary, it’s so romantic.”
Should she say it was a different Hilary Rosenberg? No. Sally would never believe it. Her name was too distinctive. Hilary shrugged. “Well. It’s just some radio time. I’m sure they made a mistake.”
“Not that, the a cappella. Totally cool!”
Hilary stared at Sally’s enthused face. “How did you know abou—?”
“It’s on YouTube! At the end of your song, they mentioned the impromptu a cappella from Sunday. So of course I had to check.”
It seemed like every other person at the office gave her a thumbs up or wink as she walked past their desks. Okay, this was just weird. People didn’t celebrate her choice of men or care this much about her romantic life.
Then she saw a giant bouquet of red and pink heart-shaped balloons tied to her chair. A basket of flowers had a message written in large block letters: I LOVE YOU. HAVE DINNER WITH ME.
“You totally should!” Sally said, bouncing left and right. It was like she was the one who’d been asked out.
Hilary’s phone vibrated. She checked the message. It was from Kim.
OMG Hilary
,
have you been listening to the radio? I had no idea you were the love of Mark’s life!
Pete Monroe, an analyst at the firm and Gavin’s brother-in-law, stopped by her desk. He was holding a big mug that read, “I can short an entire continent and still come out ahead.” “Hey, Hilary. When’s the happy occasion?”
“What happy occasion?” she almost snapped at him before she caught herself. It wasn’t Pete’s fault she was under siege.
“The wedding. Isn’t that what Mark’s gunning for?”
“Wedding?” she repeated, flabbergasted. She couldn’t decide which would be preferable: spontaneously combusting or getting sucked down underground into one of the fiery pits of hell.
Pete blinked. “Why else would somebody like him go through all this trouble?”
“There’s no wedding. None. Absolutely
none
.”
“Okay.” He shrugged and returned to his office.
Sally watched him go, then turned to Hilary. “Are you sure? You can tell me.”
“Sally, seriously. No. There’s nothing. You watch—it’s going to end soon enough.” Mark would grow bored when he kept getting ignored. He wasn’t used to that.
“Really?” The other woman’s face crumbled a bit. “What a shame. Still…” She sighed. “I’d love to experience something like this at least once. It’s just so…grand.”
By the time four o’clock rolled around, Hilary absolutely despised the word “grand.” Everyone from her coworkers to friends to strangers had decided to call her “love life”
grand
. At least Mark hadn’t plastered her face all over the Internet and TV. That allowed her to walk around the city without other people sighing “Grand Romance” at her.
She could handle this. Later that day, she was flying to New York City with Gavin and his wife on an overnight business trip. Mark wasn’t going to chase her all the way to the other end of the country.
Gavin took his plane on the trip, instead of the pink jet he’d bought for his wife. Amandine sat next to him while holding their baby boy, and she looked at Hilary. “I always knew one day Mark would find the woman of his dreams, and I’m so happy it’s you.”
Hilary forced a smile, hoping none of her annoyance came through. “Oh I don’t know. Given his reputation, I’m sure he’s going to stop once he realizes I’m not interested.”
“You think so? But still… A cappella? All the radio stations in the city playing songs to you? It’s incredibly romantic.”
Gavin snorted. “Private jets and yachts are just as romantic—and more practical.”
Amandine laughed. “I’m not saying what you did wasn’t, but this is just so sweet. Like a fairytale.”
And it was. That was the problem. Mark was supposed to be a shallow and self-centered playboy who got bored easily. And Hilary was supposed to be a hard-nosed career woman whose heart didn’t bend one bit at the sight of the happy couple before her. They seemed so open and loving…Hilary ached for something like that for herself, but knew it would never happen. They hadn’t had the kind of screwed up life she had. They didn’t have the taint of the Rosenberg blood.