Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set

“And what is it but personal? How can someone like you give me advice? What do you know about the long haul? About sticking with someone, for better or for worse?” She paused for air. “When things get tough, there’s always that first flight out, isn’t there?”

“I’ll ignore the insult. We’re discussing you, remember? For better or worse doesn’t apply yet, sweetheart. And I suggest you get the hell out before it does.” He exhaled, unable to believe he’d said the words on his tongue since day one.

Her eyes narrowed. “You have no right.”

“Maybe not, but if you marry my brother, you’re running the same way you think I am. I haven’t figured out why yet but I recognize the signs. Only difference between you and me is, when you wake up one morning with your heart and soul in pieces, you and your so-called commitment are stuck for good.”

He glanced at Carly, expecting her to come at him swinging. Instead she sat in a chair and wrapped her arms around herself like a lost child. The sight pierced his heart. Though he wanted to hold her, she probably wouldn’t let him near.

Just as well, he told himself. Now that he’d had his say, the rest was up to her. “You’ve got some decisions to make before it’s too late.” He drew a deep breath. “You say you’re tired of compromise? Prove it.”

She raised her head from where her chin rested on her knees. Her eyes mirrored her soul. Pain, anger, hurt, anguish... and myriad other emotions Mike couldn’t decipher melded in the dark depths.

“Do me a favor?” she asked in a soft voice.

“Anything.” He took two steps toward h

er.

“Get the hell out and leave me alone.”

* * *

Juliette slid into the seat across from Carly at a small restaurant on Madison Avenue. “You could have faxed your column in or dropped it off at the office.” She glanced back at the cases of baked goods, muffins, breads and scones. “But I’d much rather meet for food. I’m starving.”

She shook the green linen napkin out in front of her and placed it on her lap. “Orange pekoe tea, please,” she said to a passing waitress.

The younger woman paused. “Anything for you?” she asked, turning to Carly.

“Coffee.”

“Chamomile tea,” Juliette said. She leaned closer to Carly. “Your hands are shaking. The last thing you need is caffeine.”

Carly glanced at the waitress and shrugged.

“Chamomile’s fine.” She wasn’t here for food, just motherly advice and maybe a hug.

The waitress replaced her pad and walked away.

Juliette narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on? You gave in too easily.”

“Why is it everyone thinks I’m a lapdog? I make my own decisions. I even put on a different shade of eyeshadow this morning,” Carly said, defiance in her voice.

“I said you’re too compliant, meaning I’ve never known you to back down from an argument with me in your life.”

Carly sighed. “That’s professional.”

“And you’re damn good at what you do. So while I was making an observation that something’s wrong because you’re not behaving like your confident self, someone else obviously sees you differently.” Juliette leaned back for the waitress to set down their cups, choice of tea and hot water. “Who?”

Carly needed to unburden herself with a desperation she’d never known before. And she trusted Juliette to listen without passing judgment and to offer the comfort she needed. “His name is Mike,” she said softly. “Mike Novack.”

“Peter’s...”

“Brother,” Carly finished for her.

“Good Lord, when you dive in, you really do it with both feet.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” She drew a deep breath. “Jules... I don’t think I can marry Peter,” Carly said in a whisper. Then, to keep busy, she unwrapped the tea bag with shaking hands and let it steep in the steaming water.