Taking the Heat (Jackson: Girls' Night Out 3)

“I guess you know what you’re doing,” he grumbled. “Give the audience what they want. That’s why you got that offer.”

“Um...yes?” she agreed, hating the doubt in her voice but too confused to leave it behind. She tried to think of something else to say into the silence, but he finally filled it.

“All right. Just remember that I offered. Are we still on for dinner tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

“See you then,” he said, and hung up. She pulled the phone from her ear and frowned at it.

“Okay,” she whispered. That had been really weird. Her dad was actually trying. Maybe she should have stood up to him a long time ago. Maybe he really hadn’t known how terrible he’d been to her.

Veronica set off for the Three Martini Ranch with a quick prayer of thanks that her dad hadn’t simply shown up to hear her opinions on open relationships or safe sex. But she was glad he’d called. It was a nice confidence boost even if she didn’t need one. He was her only family and he was trying.

The bar was as crowded as she’d ever seen it, but for the first time, Veronica didn’t rush to the office to hide. She walked around and said hi to a few people, then found herself at a table of Gabe’s friends, talking to Benton about his nephew.

She felt normal. Not terrified. Not even nervous really, though she was a little afraid that Benton might ask about Gabe. She couldn’t talk about Gabe.

Compared to that prospect, getting up to give live advice to an audience was easy.

Half an hour later, she was at the microphone talking about the complicated mechanics of negotiating holidays when both partners had step-children and in-laws and former in-laws. She wished she’d brought a chalkboard so she could diagram it. Modern holidays could be a minefield.

The next question was from a bride who was trying to plan a wedding while feuding with her sisters, and Veronica was beginning to feel as though she’d gotten a good deal by not having a big, raucous family like Gabe’s. If she ever got married, it would likely be a quiet ceremony in her dad’s courtroom. Unless, of course, her future husband came from a New York family and had older sisters and— She shoved that thought away and moved on to a query about female orgasms.

That question took a while to answer thanks to a few shouted follow-ups from the crowd, and by the time it was done, Veronica realized that she was already forty-five minutes into the show. She’d normally start wrapping it up now, winding down with one last question or maybe two if she had to. But tonight she spread another five questions out on the table. Tonight she wasn’t just getting this over with. She wasn’t eyeing the hallway and planning her escape. She was loving it.

Laughing, she read a question about safe sex aloud and said another silent thank-you to her dad for not just showing up.

“Here’s the thing. If your partner is that adamant about not using condoms, then he’s the guy who talks every single partner into not bothering with a condom. He’s also the guy who’s happy when his random hookup doesn’t ask for a condom. That’s who your man is. That’s what you’re putting your mouth on. Would you put your mouth on a bathroom doorknob? Would you put your vagina on that doorknob? Well then, don’t put it on his penis.”

She cringed a little when she saw the reaction of a couple at a front table. The man’s arms were crossed tight and he was glaring at the floor. The woman with him wasn’t smiling, either. Her mouth was twisted in disgust, and her eyes slid to the side to watch his reaction. Veronica had never so clearly identified one of the writers before. She cleared her throat and reached for the next letter.

She paused when she saw Benton approaching. “Oh, hi,” she said in surprise when he stepped up to her.

“I have an emergency Dear Veronica letter. Would you read it? As a favor?” He made a begging motion with his hands and gave her a puppy-eyed look that she suspected had charmed many a woman.

It totally worked. The man was damn near irresistible. “Okay,” she said, taking the letter carefully from his finge

rs.

“Well, this is a surprise,” she said into the microphone. “But you have to take a few chances in life.” She unfolded the paper and smiled.

“‘Dear Veronica, I’ve completely screwed up with a woman I really like. We’ve only known each other a few weeks, but I think we’ve got something truly amazing.’”

The crowd reacted with an “Aww” that she joined in on.

“That’s sweet,” she said, “But I have a feeling there’s a plot twist coming. ‘She’s perfect. Beautiful and smart and a little dorky.’” Veronica laughed. “Oh, my God, she is perfect!” She looked quickly over the room, trying to pick out Benton and see the girl he was with, but she couldn’t find him.

“‘But...’” she started again, then shook her head. “See, there is always a ‘but’! ‘But I wasn’t completely truthful when we started dating, and worse than that, I was a coward. I walked away from her when I shouldn’t have. I gave up on myself and on her. So here’s my question, Veronica...’”

The nape of her neck started tingling. She swallowed hard and swept the room again, not even sure what she was looking for.

“‘If I...’” The words were hoarse. She cleared her throat. “‘If I left New York and moved back to Jackson, would she give me another chance? Just a small one?’”

Her heart felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds as she looked up. As if it was falling and pulling her stomach and her breath and her thoughts down with it. This time she didn’t have to look around the room. Gabe was standing right there in the middle of the tables. She stared at him. She couldn’t move. Her heart was too heavy to lift.

The crowd began to murmur. All eyes turned to Gabe as he stepped forward.

“Would she give him another chance?” Gabe asked just loudly enough for her to hear.