Writing Mr. Right (23 page)

Walter was the last one – she’d vowed it. Never again would she let a man make her feel second best. Never again would she stand for negligence and disinterest in the guise of being busy – or just ‘being a man.’ A good man doesn’t mistreat a woman.

She nodded to the guards as she hustled toward the exit, the pipes and drums blaring behind her.

The road outside was busy with a few stragglers, people leaving as she was. Georgia made her way past the first few groups and started down the hill. She stopped dead by the armory.

Across the cobblestone street, standing in the corner of a high stone building was Garrett, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hooded sweatshirt. Georgia stopped short, and just as always before, the sight of him stilled her heart.

Don’t falter, Georgia. You can’t go through this again.

Garrett looked up and spotted her, and his eyes went bright. Still, there was something heavy in the way he smiled at her. He glanced up toward Edinburgh Castle, the pipes blaring down the road at them. He shot her a look, and the hidden depths behind it startled her.

Georgia swallowed and crossed the road to meet him. “I have to tell you something,” she said, and the words nearly caught in her throat.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Two Months Later

“Sure, come on in here. She’s still on stage for another twenty minutes or so, but you can wait. Is she expecting you?”

Garrett nodded. “She is.”

It was a lie.

The young man was named Jimmy, and he introduced himself in a thick California accent before leading Garrett down a long back hallway. The sound of the crowd laughing or hollering carried even through brick walls. Garrett had barreled through the convention center for over an hour trying to find Hall C, and once he found that, he spent another twenty minutes trying to find Cassie and declare his presence. Surely if he found Cassie, she’d let him in to see her. When Cassie didn’t appear, he went to the nearest headset wearing staff member and lied through his teeth.

“I’m Steve Burgess. I’m her editor, I’m probably on the list.”

He was indeed. Garrett remembered distinctly that Burgess was always on the list, and he was almost startled when Jimmy bought his atrocious American accent and checked his name off the list. They finally reached the room at the end of the hall, and the headset fellow waved Garrett past, showing him into the small back room.

There was a table along one end of the room with catered cheese plates and the like, and there were at least a dozen folding chairs around the parameters. Garrett glanced in the corner, spotting a dark haired man in one of those seats, fidgeting quietly. Garrett felt like he’d snuck backstage at a U2 concert.

“Just have a seat, she’ll come directly back here after the panel is done.”

“Cheers,” he said. Shit! That didn’t sound American at all.

Yet, Jimmy seemed oblivious and was gone without another word.

I can’t believe you’re in town! A night on the pish is in order, lad! Will I get to meet Georgia?

Garrett glanced at his phone, smiling to see Barry’s text.

We’ll see. She doesn’t even know I’m here. Not sure what she’ll say.

Garrett listened a moment, hearing the tinny echo of Georgia’s familiar voice over the speakers in the hall next door.

Barry shot him three texts of blind motivation, but Garrett tucked the phone in his pocket and slumped down into the nearest seat, giving the other man a quick nod. The two of them sat in silence a moment, listening.

“This is one of the most surreal experiences of my life.”

Garrett glanced at the fellow across the room. “Why so?”

He shrugged. “She and I go a ways back. Waiting backstage at a convention center for her wasn’t something I’d have ever seen coming.”

Garrett listened to the crowd laughing and couldn’t help but think of the last time he’d hunted her down like this, back in Edinburgh. “I imagine she’s as surprised by all this as you are.”

“Sure, sure. So, you friends with Victoria?”

Garrett’s eyebrows went up as he turned to face the other man. “I am. You?”

The man shrugged. “Haven’t seen her in a good while. We used to date, actually.”

“Is that so?”

“You’ve come a long way, huh?”

Garrett hadn’t bothered hiding his accent once Jimmy was out of sight. He nodded. “I have, indeed.”

“Must be good friends then, yeah?” The man seemed nervous, intertwining his fingers in his lap as his right knee bounced.

“I’d like tae think so, aye.”
Garrett studied the man a moment, catching sight of him fidgeting with a wedding ring on his left hand. He felt a tinge of relief to think the man wasn’t there for the same reason he was.

“Yeah, she invited me to come by. The spectacle of it all threw me.”

The release of the third book wasn’t for another two months, but this event wasn’t for the books. Producer David Mallory was officially announcing the early stages of the
Woman In White
film production, introducing hundreds of rabid fans to Germaine Ross – their beloved Douglas MacCready in the flesh. Now, Georgia was sitting on a stage with a panel of directors, producers, and several well-known British actors all fielding questions about a movie that hadn’t even started filming yet.

“Everythin with Georgia is a huge spectacle.”

The man perked up at the mention of her real name. “Oh, so you do really know her?”

“Aye, I do. So the two of ye dated, then?”

The man nodded. “We did. Few years back.”

“Lucky you’re still friendly. I’d rather pour fairy liquid in my eye than spend time with my ex.”

The man laughed. “I have no idea what fairy liquid is.”

“I assure ye, ye don’t want it in your eye.”

The sat a moment in silence. Then the man began to speak. “I haven’t actually seen her in a long time. We haven’t spoken since we were together, but – I don’t know. Always wondered how she was doing.”

“I see you’re married.”

The man glanced down at his ring. He snorted softly. “I am. Old ball and chain. She’d kill me if she knew I was here.”

“Is that so?”

He nodded. “Yeah, not exactly the most understanding of women.”

“Ah, well that’s karma for ye.”

The man glanced at Garrett, his brow furrowed. “What’s that?”

Garrett leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You ever hear the sayin about the man who cut down the most glorious tree in his forest?”

The man shook his head. “I can’t say that I have.”

Garrett inhaled through his nose. “Well, it goes somat like – there was a man who owned a great piece of land, covered in beautiful trees. One day he decided tae cut down the greatest, most magnificent tree he had. He thought, ‘this one is great now, but soon all of my trees will be this magnificent.’ So he cuts down the tree and sells the wood tae a matchstick company.”

“Matchstick company?”

“Aye, and they pay him well, using the wood to make a million matches.”

Garrett paused.

“Well, what happened then?”

“One day, some old dodger decided to sit a spell under a tree on the man’s land. Lit his pipe with a match, and tossed it into the forest. Burned the whole forest to the ground.”

“That’s a grim story.”

“Aye, it is, but I think it applies here.”

“Why’s that?”

Garrett watched the man trying to still his shaking leg. “Yer name’s Walter, right?”

The man’s brows shot up. “It is. God, how do you know that?”

“Because you’re the one who cut down the best tree in your forest to make a million matches. Tell me, is yer forest burning yet?”

He snorted in a confused half laugh. “I don’t get your meaning, buddy.”

The crowd inside roared a moment and Garrett turned to Walter, setting his jaw. “Right. So, she invited ye here, then?”

“She did.”

The mere thought of this made his stomach turn, but he fought not to show it. “And ye actually came?”

Garrett felt his proper British tendencies flinching and cringing as the words came out of his mouth, but the thought of this man waiting for Georgia – the thought of her inviting him to be here made him so livid, he feared he might break a folding chair over the man’s back if he didn’t say something.

Walter’s brow furrowed. “I did. Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“Dunno, maybe because ye have a shred of decency,” Garrett said. Shit, what are ye doin ye prick? He thought. “Though I imagine a man who could break a woman’s heart on the day she loses the person most dear to her has very little of that tae speak of, no?”

“Hey, hold on buddy -”

“Let me guess, ye getting divorced?”

Walter stumbled over the words. “What? No.”

“Just miserably married, then? That’s grand.”

“What’s your fucking problem?”

With this, Walter stood up. Garrett surged to his feet, grateful to meet the man’s approach, and stand six inches taller than him. Garrett looked down at the man without an ounce of threat in his stance.

“My problem is that I’m in love with the woman ye came tae see. And I know the trouble ye caused her, because it caused me trouble, too. And I worry that she’s gonna come in here, see ye, and something unfortunate is gonna take place. Either she’s gonna be upset, or worse, you’re gonna rekindle some unfortunate thing for a time, and just break her heart again, because that’s what lads like ye do.”

“Lads like what, exactly? You don’t know me, and you don’t know anything about what happened between -”

“I know enough. See, I know lads like you. Ye devote yer entire lives to the pursuit of mediocrity, because ye know ye won’t fail if ye aim low. Then when something truly extraordinary crosses your path, ye don’t just reject it; ye try tae destroy it. Or more aptly, ye cut it down to make a million matches.”

“Look, you Scotch fuck, I’d suggest you shut your fucking mout -”

Walter stepped forward, and Garrett met the challenge, glaring down at the shorter man with the calm of a Buddhist monk.

“I think ye should leave, Walter. I think ye should go and leave this woman be. She disnae deserve to have ye stirring up whatever it is you’re here to stir up.”

“You worried she’ll be more excited to see me than she is you, buddy?”

“Nae. No worried in the slightest. And I’m no yer
buddy
.”

Walter jutted out his chin. He held himself with equal calm, Garrett would grant him that. Whatever transpired between them, Walter held himself like a man who knew his way with his fists. Garrett didn’t give two shits.

“What are you gonna do if I decide to stay?” Walter asked.

Garrett shrugged one shoulder. “Nothin. I’ll take my seat, I’ll wait my turn, and after yer nice reunion where ye remind yerself of a time when ye were important to someone who is now more important than you’ll ever be tae anyone, I’ll meet ye outside in the street, and introduce ye to a Scottish greeting we call the ‘Glasgow Kiss.’”

“Walter? My god, you’re here!”

The two men turned to find Georgia and Cassie standing in the doorway. Georgia’s expression was one of shock and confusion, glancing between the two men before stepping forward to offer Walter a hug.

Walter glanced back at Garrett before accepting the embrace, diving into small talk. “Well, you said you might be free, so I came down to say hello. Didn’t make it into the panel, sadly.”

“No, they sold out quick.”

Garrett stood back, watching helplessly as Georgia spoke to the man with her usual gentle air. He turned toward the catering table, as though inspecting the deli tray.

“A Glasgow Kiss. Isn’t that a head-butt?”

Garrett turned to find Cassie at his shoulder, also inspecting the deli tray with rapt attention. Her words were hushed, just for him to hear.

He nodded. “Aye, it is.”

She smiled, nodding. “I’d pay to see that.”

Garrett glanced over his shoulder at Georgia. She was still smiling and nodding to the man who’d once caused her so much pain – the man who inspired her fear two months earlier when she’d fled the tattoo, ready to run from Garrett for fear he’d do the same.

He’d give anything to break the smug bastard’s nose.

“Well, your assistant has my number. If you feel like having that drink, just give me a shout.”

Georgia smiled at him. “Will do, Walter. You be good.”

Georgia opened her arms to the man again, and gave him a genuine hug. Walter held on a bit too long and a bit too tight for Garrett’s tastes. Then the man shot him a parting glance, and made his way out the door and down the hall.

Cassie made comment of showing the douche bag out, and followed him into the hallway. Garrett smiled after the young woman, deciding then and there that he liked her very much indeed.

Georgia turned to him, her expression unreadable. “I can’t believe you came all this way.”

“I had tae.”

“You didn’t. I’ll be home in a couple days.”

Garrett smiled, stepping into her as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “I wanted tae surprise ye.”

She smiled up at him. “Ye did.”

He buried his face into the crook of her neck, as she laughed. “Good surprise though, aye?”

“The best.”

The two of them stood there a moment, their arms around each other, swaying in the quiet room as the sound of the crowd noisily leaving the convention hall filtered through the walls.

She wriggled in his arms, as though digging a burrow against his chest. “God, I just want to live here.”

Garrett pressed his nose to her hair. “What, in Hall C? Doesn’t seem too cozy tae me.”

She chuckled against his chest. “I meant with your arms around me. Cheesy, I know.”

“That isnae in one of yer books, is it?”

“Shut up,” she said, squeezing him tighter. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if Walter appeared and you weren’t here.”

Garrett leaned back to look at her. “What? Ye wouldn’t have gone with him, would ye?”

“No, god no. I just – I just liked having you here.”

Garrett kissed the top of her head. “Did he bother ye, then?”

“No.” She paused. She nuzzled into his chest, breathing in deeply. “No. It was just nice having a tall, devastatingly handsome Scot at my side when he showed up.”