Page 118 of Elevator Pitch

“Yeah. I’ve been busy.” He doesn’t need to know what I do.

“Still writing those dirty books?”

Or perhaps he already knows. I’m surprised he’d remember. Cam must have mentioned my ‘hobby’ back when they were friends.

“Uhm, they aren’t dirty.” There’s a fine line between writing what’s a little naughty versus something considered truly filthy, as in unclean. Paddy doesn’t need me to explain the distinction. “But yeah, I’m still writing.” I expect the conversation to end there as most people don’t know how to continue a discussion when they learn I’m an author.

“Must be hard without Cam. Or are you open to new adventures?” He wiggles his brows, and a cold chill runs down my spine.

“I’m good,” I say, ready to step away from this unwanted reunion. “I’m headed to the ladies’ room so enjoy the—”

“If you ever need some tips. Or the tip. I’m open to new experiences, as well.”

There’s no doubt he’s just propositioned me and I’m about to throw up in my mouth. Caught between ridiculously thanking him for the offer and telling him to fuck off, because never in a million years would I consider Paddy, I fumble somewhere in between.

“Yeah, uhm. I have a boyfriend, but . . . Yeah, no thanks.”

“You’re dating?” He scowls, suddenly offended that I’m in a committed relationship versus open to a sexual free for all. “Cam would be so disappointed.”

I bite my lip, before I blurt out the reminder that Cameron is dead, and even if he were alive, his disappointment wouldn’t be an opinion I’d value. Especially as the man before me was in on the affair my husband was having and condoned it.

“Tell Melissa I said hi.” After mentioning his wife, I step around him, disgusted by his embrace, and shaken by his words. He has no place in my head, but I’m still upset by the time I use the restroom and purchase a second margarita for Laurel and me.

“I just saw Padraig O’Brien.” I take a hearty drink of my margarita after telling my daughter.

“What did he want?”

I’m not about to tell my daughter the married man offered me sexual favors for book research. Instead, I shake my head. “He’s still a pig.

Laurel snorts. “He always gave me the creeps.”

I turn my head toward her, worried he said something to her at a tender, young age. “Did he ever say anything inappropriate to you?” I’ll kill him.

She shakes her head before sipping her margarita. “Just a bad vibe. I don’t know how Dad could be friends with him.”

I snort, knowing a few reasons they might have been friends, but not wanting to discuss them with my daughter. Cameron is gone and I made a conscious choice a long time ago not to linger on what happened between us. I can’t change his decisions. I can’t bring him back from the dead. He was simply a season of my life.

The thought hits me hard. Cam was a season I’d measured in love. With our youth. Our girls. My devotion to him. I can’t help that he did not reciprocate the dedication or devotion I put into that time of our lives.

I’m in a new season, and my gaze seeks the dugout, although I can’t see Ross from my seat.

“So, Ross asked me to go to Philadelphia next week when the Anchors play there.”

Laurel’s head whips up. “Why Philly?”

“He’s originally from there and his sister lives there. She helped raise his boys.”

Laurel nods. “That Landon was a little uptight, but Harley was fun.”

Ross already explained how Landon’s attitude had more to do with protecting my honor than disliking me. The thought is sweet.

But Padraig’s words come back to me.

“You aren’t disappointed that Ross is in my life, are you?” I don’t know how comfortable I feel yet calling him my boyfriend, but Ross is everything to me and I wish there was a word to encompass that feeling.

“Disappointed?” Laurel snorts, the sound very similar to my snortle. “I’m thrilled for you, Mom. I mean, how many women get the chance to date Ross Davis.”

“Um . . .” I’m hoping she doesn’t want a real answer because I can name more than a handful who have dated Ross in the last decade.