Page 81 of Here's to Yesterday

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To sayI’m on edge would be anunderstatement.

I’m sweating like a damn football player during two-a-days, and my stomach feels like I ate week-old Chinese food. If I feel all this by sitting in the waiting area for apre-meeting,I have no idea what I’m going to feel like if I start signingpapers.

I’m sitting at a fucking record label, about to have a meeting with an actual representative. Holy.Shit.

I take in the swanky lobby. It’s large and made up of nothing but windows on one wall. The furniture is modern and sleek, and there are trendy-looking canvases strategically nailed to the wall. And there’s the obligatory overly cheerful receptionist who’s now offered us something to drink threetimes.

Maura reaches her small hand over and presses down on my jiggling leg. “Stop it,” she says softly in that sweet voice of hers. “You’re starting to makemenervous.”

“Youcan’t be nervous,” I whine. “You’re mymanager. Managers don’t getnervous.”

“You ready to start paying meyet?”

“Nope.”

“Well then I guess I don’t have toactlike a manager yet,” shedeclares.

I sit forward and pull my wallet out. Grabbing the first bill I can find, I toss it onto her lap. “There’s your first payment. Now stop being nervous.Managersdon’t getnervous.”

The beautiful blonde girl next to me lets out a happy, boisterous laugh, causing the receptionist to jump at the suddensound.

“You’re something else,” she mumbles under herbreath.

She may claim she’s nervous, but she doesn’t look it in the least. She’s wearing tight white pants, a white top, and one of those blazer things you always see the girls in fashion magazines wearing these days. Other than them, she’s the only one I know who can pull off the outfit she’s got going on. Maura’s classy and sexy and smart. All inone.

It’s been three days since Maura and Tanner broke up. It’s been three days since we had our come-to-Jesus talk and decided that we’re in limbo with our relationship, and that’s where we’re going to stay until we can both do something for ourselves for once. As far as I know, Maura hasn’t talked with Tanner. And I know that I sure as hell haven’t. Not that we talked much before, but still, not a single peep out ofhim.

From what I can tell, she’s taking the break-up fairly well. And since lying isn’t my thing, I have to admit that it makes me damn happy she isn’t wallowing around. I feel like this gives me a chance a lot faster than I expected one. We’ve spent the last three days playing it cool. We’ve talked and texted and hungout.

And we’ve kissed.Oh Godhave we kissed. And I’ve loved every moment ofit.

I know this seems silly and juvenile, but as much as I love kissing Maura, I want more. Not only physically—I’m not a jackass—but emotionally. I want to know she’s mine, and I want her to know I’m hers. Because let’s be honest here; while Idothink we both need to do something for ourselves for a change, I don’t think a relationship between us should depend on it. At least not for me. But maybe it does for her, so we’re gonna doit.

No, notdo it. Shit.Now I’m thinkingit.And Maura.Doing it with Maura. Fuck! Stop it,Fucker!

“Mr. Bentley, Ms. Doughers, Mr. Darren will see you now,” the red-haired receptionist says, coming around her desk and saving me from getting a woody before my meeting. “Thisway.”

I give Maura an apprehensive glance as we stand up. She reaches over and gives my hand a gentle squeeze. Her simple act does wonders to alleviate the weight pressing down on mychest.

Happy Receptionist Lady, whose name I can’t remember, walks us about four feet to the ginormous wooden doors. We go through another set of doors and then come to a stop in front of yet another large pair of doors. Our guide taps lightly on the door three times, and we hear a faintanswer.

I steal one last glance at Maura as the doors are pushed open. She’s watching me, telling me with her eyes it’s all going to beokay.

With her by my side, I believe it willbe.

Darren’s office is huge. Like way too fucking big for what he does. Much like the waiting area, it’s filled with windows, but this time they take up three walls instead of one. And everything seems expensive. The leather chairs, the desk, the gigantic bookcases. All of it. As nice as it all is, none of it matches. It makes the place appearcheap.

“Thanks, Heather.”Ah, Heather. That wasit.

Darren gets up and extends his hand toward us. I shake it. “Tucker, great to see you again. Ah, and Ms. Doughers, a pleasure,” he says, his eyes bouncing from Maura’s face to herchest.

I suddenly want to punch thisasshole.

But my girl can take care of herself, because as she shakes Darren’s hand, she presses her fingernail into his wrist hard enough for him to wince. “Hi,” she sayscurtly.

Darren gets the message and steps away, focusing all his attention onme.

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