Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
I laugh. “Do I do that a lot?”
“Every time we sleep together,” she says. When she emerges, she’s wearing a long t-shirt that comes down to her knees. I take that as my cue to freshen up and I head to the bathroom. The doorbell rings when I’m in the bathroom and when I join Olivia in the living room, the food occupies the whole coffee table.
“What is it with you and food?” Olivia asks with amusement in her voice. “You always order more than we can possibly finish.”
“You’ll thank me for the leftovers tomorrow,” I tell her.
We dig in and feed each other. When sauce drips down Olivia’s mouth, I lean forward to lick it off.
“This is wild,” she says staring at me. “We’re eating messily but it’s still sexy. Who would have thought?”
I laugh without a care in the world apart from how soon I can take Olivia back to bed. When we’re done eating, I help her pack the rest of the food and store it in the fridge. I pull out a bottle of wine from the fridge and she hands me a wine opener.
“Have you written Ivy’s story?” I ask her as we sit at the kitchen table sipping wine.
Her eyes twinkle. “I’ve done the first draft and I like it, if I do say so myself. Don’t worry, I’ve used pseudonyms and I haven’t associated it with your clinic,” she says.
“I appreciate that,” I tell her. “We’ve all worked so hard to get the clinic to where it is now. I’d hate it to be maligned in any way.”
Olivia looks thoughtful for a while. “Do you want to read it?”
Chapter 13: Olivia
I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. Jace reading my work is a little too close for comfort. He’ll hate me, even more, the day he discovers that I’m a journalist by profession. It doesn’t matter, I comfort myself. He’ll still hate me either way.
“I’d love to read it,” Jace says with genuine enthusiasm and I can’t retract my offer.
I set my glass on the table and leave to get the physical copy of the draft. A rolling sensation comes over my stomach. I’m nervous which is silly as writing is my profession. Over the years, my articles have been read by thousands.
That reminder does not ease my nervousness.
I return to the kitchen and wordlessly hand it to Jace. He flashes me a smile then his features become solemn as he reads. I’ve edited it so many times, the words are ingrained in my brain. Ivy and Alec have such a riveting love story; I wish everybody could read it.
It gives me hope that one day I too will find love as it’s found in the most unlikely of places. I drain my wine and contemplate Jace. What if he’s the one but by lying to him, I’ve destroyed any chance of us having a future together? I shift in my chair looking for a comfortable spot.
What if I came clean now? Told him that I’m working undercover and in real life I’m a journalist working for a magazine. Maybe he’d say he understands and forgive me. What would be important is that I’ve told him the truth. I almost laugh aloud at my own naivety. As if Jace would forgive such a thing. I wouldn’t blame him either. Why did I think that I could pull this off without my feelings getting involved? I already like him too much. When we’re not together or he’s not just an office away, I miss him.
Then there’s my job. Am I willing to sacrifice it for this affair? The answer is a resolute no. My career is too important to me and I love working at Lifestyle magazine. It feels like my home.
“Wow!” Jace says. He has tears in his eyes. “That’s a beautiful story. You’ve captured the emotions perfectly and made me understand Ivy’s side better. I always looked at the whole thing from my brother’s viewpoint.”
Happiness reverberates through me. I want to jump up and down. “You really like it?”
“I love it. Ivy will love it too. You’re writing is so good I’d pay for it. Hang on, I have an idea,” Jace says, his eyes gleaming. “Would you like to do some writing part-time for us at the clinic? We’re redoing our brochures and we want stories like this to include. We’d pay you for it of course.”
My jaw drops and my mind works overtime. This will mean access to the fertility clinic and the staff who man it. Then there’s the added bonus of writing the kind of stories that I love while investigating the clinic. It’ll be good practice and loads of fun.
“Yes!” I go to him and hug him from behind. “Thank you. That means a lot to me and I promise it won’t interfere with my work.”