Any Man I Want by Michele Grant Page A

me and you. Is it just for show, is it just for kicks, is it just until whenever? What?”
    â€œWhat do you want it to be?”
    She reached over, took my glass, and downed the contents. “Carter, you drive me to drink.”
    I took the empty glass from her and stood up. “Back ’atcha, beautiful. Listen, stop trying to make everything a thing. You and me, exclusive, dating. That’s all. Let’s just ease into this and see where we go. You just got out of a relationship forty-eight hours ago.”
    â€œThat wasn’t a relationship.”
    â€œNo?” That gave me pause. How exactly did she define a relationship? I would not have been huddled up on a beachfront villa with a woman I wasn’t in some sort of relationship with.
    â€œNo, it was a . . . temporary lack of sanity.” She gestured vaguely with her hands, waving them in the air. “An attempt to—as you say—make a thing a thing.”
    â€œHmm.” I set the glass down in the outdoor sink and ran water over it. “Do you want to go over the plan tonight?”
    â€œNot really. I’m beat. It’s been a long day.” She came up behind me and slid her arms around my waist. “Carter?”
    â€œYeah?” I turned to face her.
    â€œIn case I forget to say it—thanks for coming for me.” She kissed my cheek and waltzed back into the house.
    I touched my cheek and smiled. She was going to be the death of me.

6
Then we battle
    Katrina—Tuesday, May 24—10:50 a.m.
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    I waved to Sheryl as she headed out to see some of the island. I didn’t know where Carter had found her, but she was wonderful. She did a little bit of everything. Organized the house, answered phones, ran errands, and cooked like a dream. I considered myself to be a pretty good cook, but she whipped up delicious meals effortlessly. I should have resisted this morning’s cheesy shrimp and spinach omelet, but it was too savory to pass up. I turned back to the laptop in time to answer a question.
    â€œHow bad was it really?” my sister-in-law Jewellen asked me as she played with her hair. Jewel was one of my favorite people in the world. Like me, she was a sheltered suburban girl. Unlike me, she was patient and sweet and generally saw the good in everybody. She owned a staffing agency based in North Dallas and had just recently opened a second office in Frisco. A few years back, my brother Roman literally ran her over on a basketball court and after one heck of a courtship, they got married. She treated Roman’s son Chase like her own and was a seamless part of the family. We called her Bijou , French for “jewel.” Jewel was a cute little thing at a shade under five-seven, with a bright, clear complexion and reddish-brown hair that usually fell to just under her shoulders. Recently, she had cut it into a wavy bob that stopped at her eyes. She’d been fiddling with it ever since.
    We were on a video conference. Jewel was sitting with Belle, Fredrika (my agent), Danila (our PR person), and another friend of ours who worked in the New York offices of BellaRich, Yazlyn.
    â€œ Bijou , your hair is cute. Leave it alone. How bad was what really?” I set down my second cup of coffee of the day and tilted my head in curiosity.
    â€œThe sex, Trina, the terrible, awful sex between you and Kevin. You announced to the world that he had never thumbed through Sex for Dummies !” Danila clasped her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle.
    â€œYou said you wanted to pay him to cease and desist!” Fredrika gasped out as they dissolved into laughter. She almost slid off the edge of her chair she was so tickled.
    Yazlyn caught her breath. “On a scale of ‘gee, I could have had a V-8’ to ‘make the lambs stop screaming’—just how bad was it?”
    I giggled at her Silence of the Lambs reference. “It wasn’t serial-killer bad, more like lazy