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Weekend Wife (Sassy in the City 1)

Page 53

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It was an aerial view of a portion of the city. For some reason, it looked familiar to me. “Where is that?” I asked. What was it about that one block? “Show me the street view.”

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Just a development project downtown.” He closed his laptop with a definitive slap. “I shouldn’t be working when I have such a fascinating houseguest.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

Grant spun his chair around so he was facing me instead of the desk. He had a towel wrapped around his waist. I sat down on his lap, spreading my legs on either side of him. I tugged on his beard and shifted my hips so important parts of me were touching parts of him. “You should pack,” I murmured.

“I should.” His hands gripped my waist and he pulled me closer against him. “And we need to get you some pants or that’s never going to happen. Because your body is very, very tempting.”

I backed off, making sure to wiggle my ass over every inch of his lap as I did before standing up. “I don’t want to be responsible for you not packing. Get to it.”

Grant stood up, and as I was intending to exit the room, he took my hand. “Hey. I want to apologize again for my insensitive comment. I know you work really hard and I want you to know how much I respect your tenacity and your talent.”

I turned and gave him a little nod. But I couldn’t stop myself from wrapping my arms over my chest, wondering how much I should reveal to Grant. I decided to be honest, because it wasn’t going to shock him. It was just the reality of being a struggling actress in New York. I never revealed my fear, and I was going to downplay it here, but he clearly felt bad. And I wanted him to understand, wanted him to know that I wasn’t like him. Doors wouldn’t magically open for me.

“I know you didn’t mean anything. It’s okay. Like I said, it’s just sometimes I wonder where to go from here. My parents thought I was insane to want to move to the city. My mother thought I was going to be murdered and my father worried some asshole director would sexually harass me. They both thought I was going to starve and live in a rat-infested apartment. The only thing they were wrong about was I was not murdered,” I said wryly. “But I’ve gotten to what I consider a reasonable place of self-sufficiency but that concern for survival is still there. It will always be there. I don’t even care about being a huge star or being famous. I just want to be able to do what I love and pay my bills. Chorus girl in a long-running show would be a dream job for me. But what if that never even happens?” I shrugged.

“What if it does?” Grant asked simply. “And if it doesn’t, you just said you’re in a reasonable place, so what is wrong with that? I know that I’ve had a huge advantage in life, so I don’t come from the same place as you do, but I do know that most people achieve success after a lot of hard work and grinding determination. You have that kind of moxie, Leah. I’ve seen it.”

Did I have moxie? I thought I did. I wanted to believe I did, and God, there was something so sweet about the billionaire giving me a pep talk. With my friends, it was hard to be vulnerable or afraid because I felt responsible for dragging them down with me. If I said it was impossible to succeed in New York, that was spitting on their dreams too, and I couldn’t do that. But if I spoke the truth to Grant, I wasn’t going to affect his morale. He might actually be a safe person to confide in.

“Do you want to know my worst fear? And I don’t mean roaches,” I said. If I wanted Grant to know me, the real me, this was an important part of what motivated me. Or maybe, what held me back.

And for whatever reason, I did want Grant to know the real me. He kept asking which was the real me and which was the actress speaking. Well, this was the truth. What I’d already said and what I was going to dig just a little deeper into.

“Yes,” Grant said. “If you’re willing to share.”

“My fear is total failure. That I won’t even get small parts anymore. I’ll just be going and going, trying to make this work, then one day I wake up and realize it will never happen. And then what? Because all of my friends moved in different directions and they’ve found success. I don’t have any other talents or skills. There is no backup plan. None. I’m not great at anything other than pretending to be what I’m not. That’s terrifying.”

“If you’ve never tried anything else how do you know you’re not good at anything? I think you’re underselling yourself.”

“No. Trust me. I am not good at numbers, or selling things, or crafting, or dealing with children. I can’t make soap or jewelry, I don’t have a degree that would allow me to tutor or teach, and I feel woozy at the sight of blood or needles so anything in the medical industry is out. What am I supposed to do?” All of that made my throat tighten and my eye twitch. I squeezed my arms tighter around me.

“Leah. Look at me.” He put his hands on my upper arms and gently rubbed.

I tried to stop panicking and met Grant’s penetrating gaze. “What?”

“If there’s no other option, then your only option is success. Nikki Sixx from Mötley Crüe always said he had no other plan. There was no backup so he had to make music work. That’s the way you have to approach it. There’s no giving up, there’s no searching for an out. You’re all in. You’re my little Nikki Sixx.”

It made me feel warm inside, both because Grant was trying to encourage me and because I felt like he really listening to me. That he got me.

His little Nikki Sixx. His.

I could fall in love with Grant. I realized it suddenly, with one shocking wave of lightheadedness and hot cheeks. I was falling in love with Grant.

What hadn’t upset me was just his saying the video wasn’t technically viral, it was also that he had pulled back from me. It had felt a little dismissive and that had bothered me because my heart was getting drawn into this fake relationship with Grant.

Oh, shit. Where was my self-preservation?

How could I be so blind? I’d been heading for this moment since I’d chased him and gotten hit by a cab and he’d peeled me off the street.

I’d talked to him, flirted with him, every day. I’d confessed my deepest fear.

Not a fake relationship, Leah. Way to ensure your heart is thoroughly shattered. Good job.

I focused on his statement of total confidence. “Success is my only option, huh?” I said. “I’m not sure if that’s encouraging or terrifying, but thank you. I appreciate you listening to me. You’re a good man, Grant.”

He shook me a little. “You’ve got this, Leah. I would bet Vegas odds on you.”



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