September: Calendar Girl Book 9 (11 page)

That was hard to swallow, too. Holding his hand. It was always warm yet lifeless. Blood was running through the veins, but the magnetism, the energy, the life force, whatever it was that makes us who we are, wasn’t there in him.

I sat there looking at his overgrown hair, beard, and mustache. Ginelle had been keeping him looking good in my absence but he needed a trimming—not to mention a dose of sunshine would do wonders for his pallor. He had that pale grayish skin tone that a person gets when he hasn’t been outside in a long time. My father had been in a coma for nine months. The length of time it takes a woman to become pregnant and have a baby.

“When are you going to wake up, Pops? There is so much, too much to say.” I took several deep breaths before continuing.

“I’m going back to Malibu tomorrow. As much as I’d like to be here for you, our lives can’t sit on hold any longer. Your debt has been paid, Dad, but not without a sacrifice. Sometimes I look back on this year and think I should thank you. Without your debt, I wouldn’t have met all the wonderful people I’ve encountered over the year. People who I know will continue to be a part of my life for the long haul. And of course, there’s meeting Max. My brother.”

I stood up and started pacing the room. “Mom had a child before me, Pops. A boy. Five years older than I am. Thirty now. His name is Maxwell, and he’s the best brother a girl could ever have. I’m sure you picked up on the name thing. Maxwell, Mia, and Madison. Just like her and Aunt Millie. Mom was nothing if not predictable.” I thought about how she left each of us, and that snake coiled up and back around my heart at the thought of the woman who’d borne me. Yep, very predictable.

Stopping in place, I looked out the window. The dark clouds of last night had all but gone, leaving a pristine blue sky in their wake. Moving close to Pops, I ran my fingers through his soft dark hair. It had always been silky smooth, and even at rest, it was no different. “This journey has led me to a man, Pops. A man I’m so deeply in love with, I know with everything that I am that he’s it. The end-all be-all for me.” I stared hard at his face, hoping there would be a flicker of life, a scant smile, anything…but no.

“I’m going to go now. I don’t know when I’m going to make it back. Maddy and Matt will check on you. You’d like him. Matt. He’s good for her. Treats her like the queen she is. The doctors here are going to do everything they can to get you to come back, but it’s up to you, Pops. You need to fight and fight hard. Fight for us.” I closed my eyes and took a breath. “If anything with you changes, I’ll be on the first plane out.” I leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

“I’m glad you made it through this scare. Hell, I’m glad everyone made it through this scare.” I walked to the edge of the bed and looked down at the man who raised me. He’d never been perfect, nor did he claim to be, but he loved us, even when he absolutely hated himself.

“You know, Pops, it wasn’t right for you to borrow all that money, and it definitely wasn’t okay to have that burden fall on my shoulders, but I don’t regret the decisions I’ve made this year or the journey I’ve taken so far. I wouldn’t change what I’ve experienced for anything. Through it, I feel as though I’m finding myself, more and more each month. Maybe by December I’ll have even more figured out. If you asked me, if anyone asks…I’d do it all again. And the ride isn’t even over.”

A
smartly dressed
blonde in her twenties, strung tight as a drum, led me through the halls of Century Productions. “You’ll need to be here
every
weekday promptly at nine.” She looked down at her watch and cringed.

Okay, so I was a few minutes late. The man at the gate told me the wrong studio. So even though I’d left a half hour earlier than I needed, I still ended up a few minutes late.

“Sure thing. Now that I know where to go, I’ll be here earlier.”

The woman who proudly introduced herself as Dr. Hoffman’s assistant, Shandi, with an I, nodded curtly and moved along at a fast clip. Her sky-high heels knocking on the concrete floors matched the hurried cadence of my heart. I hadn’t felt rushed like this in months. I’d forgotten how everything in Hollywood moved at the speed of light. One had to be fast on the toes if she wanted to keep up.

“Makeup and wardrobe is in there.” Shandi pointed to a room with several chairs sitting in front of large mirrors with the bulbous lights that highlighted every wrinkle and blemish on one’s face. I did not look forward to sitting in that hot seat. When I glanced back, Shandi’s gaze seemed to slide over my skirt and blouse. “You’ll do as you are style-wise, though the hair needs some work. This isn’t wild women of the Amazon. We’ll have it pulled back, put into soft curls, something more elegant and professional.” She tapped her chin with a perfectly-manicured pale pink finger-tip. “The camera is going to love you. Almost as much as Drew will.” Her corresponding scowl was not well hidden as she turned on a toe and carried on.

We were led to a door that had “Drew Hoffman” in big white letters inscribed inside of a star. Shandi rapped on the door.

“Come in, Shandi,” said a smooth-as-hot-chocolate-dripped-over-an-ice-cream-sundae-type voice.

“Ms. Saunders is here. You said you wanted to meet with her before she met with the writers?” Shandi’s entire personality changed right before my eyes. The frown was gone and replaced with a huge smile, her eyes no longer squinted in disdain. No, now they were open wide and sparkling. A lovely rose-colored hue swept across her cheeks as she spoke to the man I couldn’t see.

“Yes, yes, darling. Bring her in.”

Darling?

Shandi opened her arm wide and led me into the room. The man that greeted me was not what I’d expected. He was older, at least fifteen years my senior, but that did not distract from his looks. Dark black hair tinged with wisps of gray at the edges of his hairline. Gray assessing eyes that seemed to appreciate what he saw before him. He was much broader than he appeared on television, though perhaps that was because he often wore body-hiding scrubs. Now, standing at least six feet, in a dress shirt that nipped in delectably at the waist and a pair of slacks that formed to every curve, I could see exactly why people swooned over the good doctor. He was hot. Plain and simple.

“Extraordinary.” He held out a hand.

I placed my palm within it and he set the other on top in a two-handed hold. Who did that anymore? The two-handed hold?

“You are far more beautiful in person than your pictures.” He gushed.

I tipped my head and took in his form. “You aren’t too bad yourself, Doc.” The compliment rolled of my tongue in a sultry tone. I couldn’t not respond. Dr. Drew Hoffman was smokin’ hot. Did I want to hop on him and ride him till morning? No, not even a little bit, but just because my heart and sex drive belonged to Wes didn’t mean I was dead or unaffected by a damn fine specimen of the male variety.

He shook his head, lifting my hand and kissing the top. “It’s good to meet you, Ms. Saunders. I look forward to what you come up with for your segment. The media have really taken a liking to you, especially after the Latin Lov-ah’s video went viral. You are quite the sought-after celebrity.”

I snorted in the most unladylike fashion. “Um, I believe you have your signals crossed. I’m not popular. I’ve dated a few popular men and starred in a video, but that’s the end of it.”

He clucked his tongue and let go of my hand, which was good because it was starting to feel creepy that he was holding onto it for so long. He walked over to the table and spread out several smut mags and a few newspaper clippings. “What say you of this then?”

I walked over to the table and took in the display before me. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. A dozen magazines with my image on the cover. One with Tony, another with Mason, my ad campaign showing the black-and-white shoot with model MiChelle back in Hawaii. There was even a spread of Alec and me at the art showing of
Love on Canvas
in Seattle. The photographer paid very close attention to every little touch and overture Alec made toward me. There was even an image suggesting I was the new love interest of Anton Santiago and currently cheating on him with new beau Weston Channing.

Fueled by frustration, I pushed the magazines back. “I don’t know what to say.”

Drew sat down on his couch and put his arms out wide, a causal pose if I’d ever seen one. This man was master of his domain, king of his castle, and nothing ruffled his feathers.

“There’s nothing to say. You’re the next ‘it’ girl, and I plan to capitalize on that.”

C
ontinued in October
Calendar Girl
. Available now for purchase.

A
ngel Falling

London Falling

Justice Falling

Body (Book 1)

Mind (Book 2)

Soul (Book 3)

(New installments will be released every month throughout 2015)

January (Book 1)

February (Book 2)

March (Book 3)

April (Book 4)

May (Book 5)

June (Book 6)

July (Book 7)

August (Book 8)

September (Book 9)

October (Book 10)

November (Book 11)

December (Book 12)

T
o my editors
, Ekatarina Sayanova and Rebecca Cartee with Red Quill Editing, LLC…you absolutely blow me away. Between the two of you editing…I must say, I look damn good! Thank you for being word mavens. I bow down to your excellence. (www.redquillediting.net)

To my extraordinarily talented personal assistant, Heather White (aka The Goddess), we have such a journey ahead of us. I can’t imagine someone more fun and loving to be walking the path with. Love you, lady.

Any author knows they aren’t worth their weight unless their story is backed by badass betas. I have the best!

Jeananna Goodall - I probably say this a million times, but I’m positive you feel my characters more intensely than even I do. It amazes me each and every time. Thank you for being willing to cheerlead as I struggle through each chapter. Huge big hugs for you.

Ginelle Blanch - As usual, blown away by all the errors you find. Seriously, you’d think I’d have learned a thing or two, but alas, at least I have you to watch my back. Thank you. #madlove

Anita Shofner - I’m always wondering how lucky I am to score such a bad ass English guru on my beta team, but I don’t say anything lest the universe or other authors attempt to snatch you away from me! Thank you for making me sparkle! Love you.

Thank you to the ladies at Give Me Books and Kylie McDermott for spreading this book far and wide into the virtual social world!

Gotta thank my super awesome, fantabulous publisher, Waterhouse Press. I secretly love when the team reads these and I get crazy emails asking what’s going to happen next! Makes my freaking month! Thank you for being the non-traditional traditional publisher!

T
o the Audrey Carlan Street Team
of wicked hot Angels, together we change the world. One book at a time. BESOS-4-LIFE, lovely ladies.

A
bout Audrey Carlan

A
udrey Carlan is
a multiple times Amazon and Kobo bestselling author. She lives in the sunny California Valley two hours away from the city, the beach, the mountains and the precious…the vineyards. She has been married to the love of her life for over a decade and has two young children that live up to their title of “Monster Madness” on a daily basis. When she’s not writing wickedly hot romances, doing yoga, or sipping wine with her “soul sisters”, she can be found with her nose stuck in book or her Kindle. A hot, smutty, romantic book to be exact!

A
ny and all
feedback is greatly appreciated and feeds the soul. You can contact Audrey or her personal assistant Heather White below:

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