Page 62 of Embracing the Beat
Sniffling, I grab my phone, tapping out a text message to Mia.
MICHAELA: FINALLY heard from the attorney.
MIA: And???
MICHAELA: There’s no way out.
MIA: Yeah, right. Who said?
MICHAELA: The one I talked to and BOTH his partners.
MIA: Do any of them specialize in entertainment law?
MICHAELA: Well, no.
MIA: Why don’t you reach out to an attorney in LA? One who knows what they’re talking about.
MICHAELA: Well, for one, I don’t know any.
MICHAELA: For two, I’m broke.
I’ve already used the credit card more than I’m comfortable with. I have no idea what the limit is, and I don’t want to find out.
MIA: I could pay for it!
MICHAELA: That’s a generous offer, Mi, but I can’t accept it.
MIA: What? Why?
MICHAELA: Because I don’t want to be a charity case.
MIA: You’re not a charity case. You’re my friend.
MICHAELA: And I want to stay your friend.
MICHAELA: Thank you anyway, though.
MIA: So what are you going to do now? Go back to Reverb?
MICHAELA: I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet.
MIA: Well, think about it. Call me if you want to talk it out.
MICHAELA: I will.
What I told Mia was right. I have no idea what I’ll do. But I need to decide sooner rather than later since the people at Reverb have never been very patient.
I’m still trying to decide what to do an hour later as I rinse tomatoes at the sink. Red roses fill my vision, and a strong arm encircles my waist, pulling me back against a body I’ve gotten to know intimately over the last two weeks. Very intimately.
“For you,” he murmurs. He brushes the back of my neck with his lips, inciting a riot of goosebumps along my spine.
“You brought me flowers?”
I want to lift them, bury my nose in them, and sigh happily at the unexpected gesture. The last two weeks with him have been a dream. True to his word, West’s behavior toward me has been like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. He is kind, attentive, affectionate. The total package. I don’t understand why Ashley cheated on him, but I’m selfishly glad she did because it means he’s here with me now.
“Mmm.” His affirmation is a vibration of sound against my neck, where his lips trail kisses along my hairline.
He tosses the bouquet on the counter next to the cutting board and runs his hands under my shirt, then along the band of my shorts. My thighs squeeze together as desire pools at the simple touch. I lean my head back against him, reaching my arms up and back to thread my fingers through his hair.
