Page 45 of From Fling to Ring

She crinkles her nose. “Oh no. Not at all. Although they are coming.” Leaning forward on her desk, she clasps her hands together.

I’m still nervous, but when she breaks into a smile, I relax. A little.

“So, remember I told you I’d talk to a couple agents I know? About your book on resisting playboy charms and all that?”

I perk up. “Yes. Did something happen? Is someone interested?”

I hold my breath.

She nods. “Yes! Can you believe it? Actually, I can. I knew this idea would be a solid seller. Anyway, before the agent committed to anything, she ran it by a couple publisher friends who… also absolutely love it!”

“Oh my God,” I shriek, clapping my hands like a happy little kid. “You are kidding!”

Holy crap. I might be publishing a book.

A book about the really nice guy I’m dating, who I will be painting as a self-centered douchebag.

Great work, girl.

“Do you have anything yet? Like an outline? Or a first chapter?”

She looks so hopeful that my stomach twists. Fucking A. What have I gotten myself into.

“Oh, um, I’ve started on the outline. But I’m kinda in the research phase now.”

Her eyes widen. “Great. Did you find some playboy types to string along? You know, so you can study their ways?”

She shimmies a little in her chair.

I gulp and nod. “Uh-huh. Yup.”

She laughs and waves her hand at me. “I get it. You want to keep this to yourself until you have something more concrete. I would do the same, Lucy. Here’s what I’m going to do. I’ll get the agent to reach out, and you two can take it from there.”

Good lord. I’m seesawing between elation and crippling guilt. I am finally getting a career break, but at the same time, I’m screwing over the very guy who held my hair back when I was puking over the side of a boat.

I am officially, as Petal likes to say, seriously fucked.

22

LUCY

“You pick.”

I look into the grocery bag Gilly’s holding open for me and find, as promised, three containers of Ben & Jerry’s, along with plastic spoons, and one napkin.

Guess we have to share the napkin.

“Hmmm. I don’t know,” I say, trying to decide among Phish Food, New York Super Fudge Chunk, or Karamel Sutra Core.

I opt for the last. It’s the most gooey and decadent, and dammit, I deserve it.

“Here you go. Now Petal, you choose next.”

Petal goes for the Phish Food, and we all dive in. Our standard emergency meeting snack is far from healthy, especially because we usually manage to finish off an entire pint each, but sometimes ice cream therapy is the only thing that can help a girl.

“Oh my God, I haven’t had this in ages,” Petal says, moaning.

I balance the Karamel Sutra Core container between my legs to soften the creamy deliciousness. I don’t like my ice cream super hard. Meantime, Gilly is already halfway done with hers.

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