Honey on Your Mind (10 page)

I held up two fingers. “Or how about we agree on
two
blocks away? Two blocks should provide me with a freak-out-free buffer zone.”

“Make it one and you have a deal.”

I paused for a moment, then reached across the table and shook his hand. “Done.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Miss Bryson.”

“I could say the same thing about you, Mr. McIntyre.”

He held on to my hand and smiled at me, and when I looked into his blue eyes, I stopped thinking about marmalade. I also stopped being tired.

I pulled his hand to one side of the table without letting go. “You ready to get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

• • •

When my alarm went off at six the next morning, I knew exactly how Paige had felt the day before. Hooking up with a hot guy
until the wee hours is awesome…until the sun comes up and it’s time to face real life.

I sat straight up in bed and reached to turn off the alarm, and then put my face in my hands.

Good lord, I’m exhausted.

My face is going to look puffy on camera.

Holy frick, I’m tired.

Jake put his hand on my lower back. “You doing OK?” His voice was soft and warm.

My face was still in my hands. “I’m so tired, Jake,” I whispered. “How do people survive on so little sleep?”

“You’ll get used to it. You’re playing in the big leagues now.”

I kept my face in my hands. “I don’t think people who need nine hours of sleep last very long in the big leagues.”

I would have gladly ironed everything in my closet to be able to sleep for three more hours, but I knew the show must go on, literally, so I dragged myself out of bed. Jake, who was apparently immune to sleep deprivation, made us coffee and went downstairs to retrieve the paper while I showered. I’d grown to love reading the Sunday
New York Times
on the couch in my pajamas, but that clearly wasn’t going to happen today.

We were out the door by seven.

Scotty’s street fair idea was a hit with the loyal viewers of
Love, Wendy
, who flooded us with thanks for giving them a fresh slice of life in New York City. Unfortunately, however, that success meant that suddenly I was working every weekend, when most street fairs take place. Before I knew it, I’d covered the Puerto Rican Day Parade, Oktoberfest, the Great Third Avenue Fair, the Times Square Autumn Carnival, the Brooklyn Flea, and the Union Square Autumn Fair. And that was just on weekends. During the week we’d also continued our man-on-the-street interviews at the hockey rink at Chelsea Piers, the zoo in Central Park, Coney Island, the new World Trade Center site, and Governor’s Island.

It was fun, but with everything going on with both
Honey on Your Mind
and Waverly’s Honey Shop, I felt like I was living on a conveyor belt. The days flew by, and before I knew it, I’d gone nearly a month without speaking to Andie or McKenna. New-mom McKenna probably didn’t even notice, but Andie had left me at least two voice mails, maybe even three. Between tapings, meetings, managing online product orders, schlepping them to the post office, and dealing with reader e-mails, it was all I could manage to try to speak to Jake each night before collapsing into bed, and sometimes I wasn’t even able to do that. Throw in the three-hour difference between New York and San Francisco, and I could never find the right time, much less the energy, to call
anyone back. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d spoken to my own dad.

Finally, one unusually quiet Wednesday night, I sat down on the couch, picked up the phone, and called Andie.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“I’m sorry, but I think you have the wrong number. I don’t know anyone named
me
.”

“Andie…”

“Who is this again? I don’t have this number programmed into my phone.”

“C’mon, Andie. Throw me a bone here.”

She laughed. “OK, OK. Bone thrown.”

“I’m sorry, I totally suck. I know I suck.”

“It’s all right. I know you’ve been crazy busy getting rich and famous. Are you having fun?”

I looked at the boxes of Honey products stacked around my living room. “Hmm. Fun? I’m not sure I’d call it that yet. I could call it
exciting
maybe, but
fun
would be a stretch because I’m stressed out and exhausted, and you’re not supposed to be stressed out and exhausted if you’re having fun, right? Plus, I think stressed out and fun might be mutually exclusive. Are they mutually exclusive?”

“Good lord, girl. Chill. Deep breaths, deep breaths.”

I laughed and leaned back into the couch. “I’m sorry. I think I’m losing it. You know how much sleep I need, and it’s just not happening right now.”

“How many hours a night are you getting?”

I yawned and scrunched up my face. “Six? Maybe seven on a good day?”

“For real? You can’t survive on six hours.”

“Tell me about it. I think I’m keeping the local coffee shop in business.”

“At least you’re contributing to the economy. Look at it that way.”

“Ha. Soon I’ll be putting their kids through college. So tell me about
you
. I’m sick of me. What’s new out there? What’s going on with Nick?”

“Nick is good.”

“Are you guys good? Is he still the funniest man I’ve ever met?” Andie was dating my former coworker Nick Prodromou, a quick-witted teddy bear with a huge heart.

“He’s good, we’re good, and yes, he’s still funny. He made Diet Coke come out of my nose the other night.”

“Again?”

“Again. He was doing his Chewbacca voice. It gets me every time.”

“Awesome. I miss that guy.” Andie never exercised but she had told me she was getting a six-pack from laughing so hard all the time.

“He misses you too. He’s always asking when you’re going to come back to visit the little people who knew you way back when. He thinks you’ve forgotten us already.”

“Yeah, like I could ever forget you guys. I can’t believe he makes you laugh so hard that Diet Coke comes out of your nose. Do you know how lucky you are?”

“Tell me about it.
I
can’t believe I have a boyfriend. It’s so not
me
. You know what I mean?”

“I totally know what you mean. But having a girlfriend is so not
him
either, which is what makes you two perfect for each other.”

“I keep thinking I’m going to freak out and run.”

“Please don’t, Andie. He’s great.”

“I know he is. But you know me and commitment.”

“Stop it. You’re
not
going to freak out and run.”

“He asked me to move in with him.”

I sat up straight. “
What
?”

“Yep.”

“When?”

“Last week.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him I’d think about it. I mean, agreeing to date exclusively is one kind of commitment, but giving up a rent-controlled apartment is on a whole different level. Am I right?”

I nodded into the phone. “You’re totally right. That’s practically like getting married!”

“I know! I mean, what if it doesn’t work out? What if he starts acting like a vagina and I have to bail?”

I coughed. “What?”

“You heard me. My policy is that there’s only room for one vagina in my house, and it belongs to me.”

I laughed. “You have a
policy
for that?”

“Yep.”

“You kill me.”

“I’m just being real. You know my job requires client dinners and evening events several times a week, and Nick can be a little whiny about my schedule sometimes. I don’t know if I could deal with that twenty-four/seven. I love him to death, but when he starts acting like a girl, God help me, I want to pop him one.”

I laughed again. “I have no idea how to respond to that.”

“If he gets too clingy and I have to pull the rip cord, where does that leave me? Without a place to live, that’s where.”

“Would he consider moving in to your place?”

“No way. My apartment is too small for two people. If a big guy like Nick moved in here, he’d break something within the hour. Then I’d
definitely
kill him.”

“So when are you going to decide? This is huge!”

“I’m not sure. I was thinking maybe I’d come visit you for a girls’ weekend to help me think about it. Are you around the weekend before Christmas? It would be sweet to celebrate my birthday in New York.”

I jumped up from the couch and practically shouted into the phone. “Yes! Come to New York! Come to New York!” I didn’t realize until that moment how much I missed her, how much I missed home, how much I missed just hanging out with her and McKenna on a regular basis.

“Down girl. I need to check flights first.”

“I wish you could come earlier, before it gets too cold. Actually, what am I saying? It’s
already
too cold for my blood.” The only good news about the impending seasonal shift was that the colder the weather got, the fewer outdoor events there were for me to cover. Unfortunately, however, the minute a weekend opened up in my schedule, Paige invariably pounced on it and roped me into some apparel tradeshow or industry event. But as far as I knew at that moment, the weekend before Christmas was still open.

• • •

The next evening I had plans to grab a drink with Paige before heading uptown to meet Kristina for dinner. It was purely a social call, which was exactly what I needed. I was so burned out that I thought I might toss my cookies if the word
honey
even came up in the conversation.

I arrived at Harry’s a few minutes early and ordered a beer, then sat down at a high table. As I looked around the bar, I realized it didn’t feel new to me anymore. The unfamiliarity had faded away, a shift in perception so gradual that I hadn’t even noticed until right now. The place had become a somewhat regular hangout for Paige and me, and she had become much more familiar to me—and much more than a sales rep. I’d met many people since moving to New York, but Paige was becoming a true friend.

At seven sharp, I saw her walk through the door.

With Gary from Nashville by her side.

No way.

I knew she’d seen him once after our trip to Chicago, but she hadn’t mentioned him since then, so I figured that was it.

Apparently, I was wrong.

“Hi, Waverly, how are you?” she gave me a hug as I stood up. “You remember Gary, right?”

I held out my hand and smiled. “Of course, Gary from Nashville. How could I forget that yummy steak dinner in Chicago? How are you?”

He laughed. “I’m doing great, happy to be in town to see this pretty young thing here.” He put his arm around Paige, who was about Andie’s height, which, on a good day, was barely five foot two. “Can I get you a drink?” he said.

I held up my nearly full beer and shook my head. “I’m good, thanks.”

“OK, I’ll be right back.” He walked to the bar, and I immediately turned to Paige and lowered my voice.

“So things are good?” I practically mouthed the words so Gary wouldn’t hear me.

She grinned and nodded.

“Wow,” I whispered.

“I know,” she whispered back. “He’s super cute, isn’t he? What’s he doing with
me
?”

I shooed her away. “Please, you’re super cute too.”

Gary reappeared with beers for himself and Paige, and we quickly switched to a more appropriate topic of conversation.

“So Waverly, Paige tells me she’s been quite busy running this product line of yours. From what I hear, it’s about to take off.”

I took a sip of my beer and smiled. “I guess we’ll see. I would be lost without Paige. I don’t know how she keeps track of all her clients. I can barely keep track of myself. She’s amazing.”

He put his hand on her shoulder. “Yes, she is certainly that.” His deep voice was undeniably sexy. What is it about that twang that makes a girl go a little weak at the knees?

“So what brings you to town?” I asked.

“A few sales meetings, nothing too exciting. I don’t want to bore you with work talk.”

Was that what he said when we met him in Chicago?
I tried to remember. He’d said something about boring meetings then, but hadn’t elaborated on exactly what they were. A tiny warning bell rang in a far corner of my brain. There was no denying his charisma, but he almost seemed too good to be true.

“Waverly? Are you there?” The sound of Paige’s voice snapped me back to the present.

I looked at her. “Huh?”

She gave me a funny look back.

“I’m sorry, I spaced. What did you say?” I turned to Gary.

“I asked if you’re missing San Francisco. When we met, you mentioned that you’re a recent transplant from California.”

“Yes and no. It’s sort of strange, really. I never thought I’d leave San Francisco, much less California, but now that I live in New York, I realize that you can love living in more than one place, even if they’re totally different. I’m not sure how much sense that makes. Does that make sense? I’m sorry, I’m a little spacey tonight.”

He laughed. “That makes a great deal of sense. Is your family still out there?” The kind look in his eyes made me feel bad for thinking he might be sketchy. I took another sip of my beer and told myself to get a grip.