Sex: There was way too much of it. By the fifth chapter, I’d already read three scenes. I’m no prude Goldilocks, but there’s a tipping point into erotica that may have been crossed by chapter five.
Book Boyfriend: The gynecologist leading man (I don’t even remember his name) was the first to score zero bow ties and arrows on the book boyfriend chart.
The Final Word:
I hated this book! It was a train wreck, totally unenjoyable, and unfortunately I can’t cleanse my mind of the cringe-worthy meet cute. If you like slutty heroines, pervy heroes, and unrealistic plots, this book is for you. If you like books with at least a little bit of substance and maybe a likable character or two, don’t make a BIG MISTAKE in wasting your money on this book.
Chapter 40
Fighting for Beckett proved harder than I’d thought. I called, texted, and left messages. Either he was somewhere he couldn’t get calls, or he didn’t want to talk to me.
It served me right that my sheets smelled like him, and that two days after he disappeared, I got a postcard in the mail from him with a naughty limerick scrawled on the back.
On the fifth day of Beckett’s absence, Gabi called and threatened my life if I didn’t come over to Thatcher’s and meet the rest of the book club for drinks.
When that didn’t work, she said, “Thatcher said if you’re not here in ten minutes, then you’re fired.
“He already tried that threat. It didn’t work then either.”
“So does that mean you’re not coming?”
“I’d just be a drag.”
Gabi sighed. “Don’t you want to see Thatcher’s new cabinets?”
Cabinets made me think of Beckett. It had taken me forever to figure out how to open them. “Not really.”
“Fine. But you have one more week to wallow in pity, and then I am kidnapping you. Mia said she won’t pursue a case against me if I do.”
We hung up and I went back to wallowing. A few minutes later, my phone rang again. I lunged for it, hoping it was Beckett, but it was his sister.
“I found him,” Pressly said when I answered.
“Where?”
“He’s royally pissed because I had to get our mom involved,” she said.
I could barely hear her over the thunder of my heart. “Where?”
“New York.”
“You think I should go? You said he was pissed. What if he doesn’t want to see me?” My words came out in a tumbling rush.
“You said you wanted to fix things.”
“I do.”
“Well, then why wait? You can’t fix them from here, and I don’t know when Beckett will be back. So what if he’s pissed? That’s Beckett eighty percent of the time, and somehow you still like him.”
I more than liked him. “He’s not that bad.”
“If you looked up ‘brooding asshole’ in the dictionary, there would be a picture of my little brother. He didn’t become remotely tolerable until he met you. So, please, for the sake of all of us, fix this mess.”
“What if he doesn’t want to fix it?”
“He does,” she said. “Trust me.”
Pressly gave me Beckett’s New York address and the private code to the elevator, but she couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t change it by the time I got there.
