Page 51 of My Not So Wicked Boss (My Not So Wicked 3)

Miles sat in the passenger seat. He’d asked if I could drive so he could make notes in his notepad And I think he hated driving on the wrong side of the road, as he called it. He was writing furiously next to me. I was happy the tour was as meaningful for him as it had been for me. I wasn’t sure what to do with my epiphany, but I knew something had to be done. I mean, how do you go about discovering, or perhaps creating is a better word, emotional intimacy with the opposite sex? Obviously, it would mean I would have to choose someone to try it with. But how would I know who to choose? I wasn’t good at picking men. Then there was the question of if an emotionally intimate relationship had to involve a physical one? Could I perhaps be emotionally intimate with a friend? My boss? That was probably a bad idea, right?

“What do you think of Isabella and Dexter staying at the cabin in Shannon’s Meadow?” Miles asked out of the blue. “Obviously, I would have to think of a different name, but I like the privacy of it, and the pond and meadow would make for some good love scenes, don’t you think?”

According to Emma and Shelby, the meadow had seen plenty of love scenes, but that was talk amongst girlfriends, not for Miles’s ears. I wondered, though, if I should mention to Miles that while he was an amazing writer, his love scenes were lackluster. It wasn’t like I was looking for them to be erotic, but he could add more sizzle, or at least more tension. I decided to hold off since he was just coming out of a funk. Instead, I agreed with him. “I like that. I can picture Isabella walking among the tall grass and wildflowers that bloom abundantly in the summer.”

Miles tapped his pen against the notepad. “Me as well. I think it would remind her of home.”

“And her father,” I added.

“Yes. Perhaps it would be cathartic for her.”

“I think so,” I agreed. It was so weird to be talking about Isabella like she was a real person.

“I will also use the small cemetery as a way to introduce clues about Dexter’s family and involvement.”

“And what would those be?” I asked nonchalantly.

Miles wasn’t falling for it. “You will have to read those. I’m not going to spoil everything for you.”

“I could just read them on the whiteboard,” I goaded him.

Miles held up his leather-bound pad. “This will be my outline this time. Isabella reminded me today that I know her story and I should trust my instincts. And . . . that she believes in me. Thank you for that reminder.”

I turned onto Main Street in downtown Carrington Cove. “I’m glad I could help. Now hurry up and finish this book.”

His laughter filled the car. “It does take time, even when the story wants to write itself.”

“Okay, fine. Let’s go get Henry in touch with his American side and buy him some pants.”

“Trousers, darling.”

I pulled into the only empty spot in front of Tykes and Dolls, a place I could have never afforded to buy Chloe clothes when she was younger, but my mom had bought several things here for her that I adored. “Fine, trousers,” I conceded.

“I’ll have you speaking properly before you know it.” Miles exited the car, gloating.

I met him around the back to get Henry’s stroller out. Little man was still napping.

Miles had no sooner opened the hatch when the most unpleasant sight hit me from across the street. Leland was walking out of Two Girls and a Guy with Kylie Robison. She went to high school with us and was a girl Leland frequently chose over me even after we were married. I grabbed onto Miles’s arm, hardly able to breathe, shaking where I stood. What was Leland doing back so soon, and wasn’t he married? Not like that ever mattered to him, but I had hoped he’d matured for Chloe’s sake.

Miles wasn’t sure what to make of my physical contact. The apprehension on his face was apparent.

“My ex-husband,” I whispered, “is across the street.” I put Miles’s mind at ease that I wasn’t trying to romantically entangle myself with him. I only needed the support before my knees buckled and I collapsed. I couldn’t believe Leland had actually come back. And there he was once again being himself, rubbing in my face that Kylie was worth coming back for, but never me or his daughter.

Miles looked in the direction my eyes were dead fixed on. “The man in the denim jacket?”

I nodded. That was him all right, dressing as if he had never grown up. Still wearing his Brad Pitt do from 2003 with spiked hair on the top, cut short on the sides.

---