Chasing Harry Winston

one of the main house’s upstairs guest rooms. After all, they often worked late into the night, and the walk to the guesthouse was winding and dark.

It was all very innocent and, to Leigh’s surprise, it felt extremely natural. She was pleased that they were able to work so well together and still maintain professional distance, even if they were sleeping in rather close quarters. Henry hadn’t thought it strange when Leigh mentioned she’d stopped staying at the hotel; he had other editors who traveled to visit authors-some to places more far-flung than the Hamptons-and they often bunked down on the property somewhere. When Leigh had told her father at dinner last week that she’d taken to spending two or three days a week working with Jesse in his home, he’d said something to the effect of “It’s not ideal, but if they won’t come to you, you go to them.” All their blase attitudes only furthered Leigh’s conviction that Russell didn’t need to know.

“I wondered what you wanted for dinner,” Jesse was saying. “It’s almost six and it’s the off-season, so if we don’t motivate soon, we’re going to be shit out of luck. Do you want to grab a burger somewhere, or should I make something?”

“By ‘make something’ do you really mean ‘pour cereal in a bowl’? Because if that’s the case, I’d rather a burger.”

“Ah, sweet Leigh, charming as ever. Is that your way of saying ‘Thanks, Jesse. I’d love a home-cooked meal, I’m just way too difficult a bitch to actually say so’?”

Leigh laughed. “Yes.”

“I had a feeling. Okay, then, cooking it is. I’m going to run to Schiavoni’s for some food. Any requests?”

“Lucky Charms? Or Cinnamon Toast Crunch. With two-percent milk, please.”

Jesse threw up his hands in mock disgust and left the room. Leigh waited until she heard the front door close and the car start before she picked up her phone.

Russell answered on the first ring. “Hello?”

He always pretended he didn’t know it was her, even though he had caller ID like the rest of the civilized world. “Hey,” she said. “It’s me.”

“Hi, baby, how are you? How’s the lunatic these days? He staying sober enough to get any substantive work done?”

Russell had taken to putting down Jesse pretty much every chance he got, regardless of how often Leigh reassured him that Jesse was nothing like his reputation, or how many times she told him that he was just another author, alternately confident to the point of arrogance or insecure to the point of debilitation. It didn’t seem to matter, and Leigh figured out the more she defended Jesse, the more it incensed Russell. He was jealous-she certainly would be if he spent so much time with another woman-but she couldn’t bring herself to reassure him. Even if Jesse never mentioned his wife (and Leigh had yet to detect any actual proof of her existence), the fact remained that Jesse was married and Leigh was engaged, and they had developed a nice friendship in addition to their working relationship. A nice platonic friendship-something Russell claimed, much to Leigh’s irritation, was an impossibility between men and women.

Leigh sighed. “He’s really not like that, Russell. He’s not a drunk, he’s just…just different. He’s not quite as regimented as we are.”

Dammit. This was definitely not the right approach. Any conversation she allowed to veer toward Jesse would definitely end in a fight, something that, despite her very best efforts, seemed to be happening a lot lately.

“Regimented?”

“You know what I mean.”

“It sounds like you think he’s all chill and Zen and that I’m stressed out and…and… regimented.”

“We are different people, Russell. And in my opinion, we’re the ones living like responsible adults while he’s lost and directionless, okay?” Leigh didn’t acknowledge to Russell that although this had been her opinion a mere month earlier, Jesse’s lifestyle no longer seemed so unappealing. “Look, why are we even talking about him? Who cares? I called to see what was going on with you. How was today’s postproduction meeting?”

“It was fine. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Russell, don’t sulk. It’s unbecoming.”

“Thank you for the etiquette lesson, dear. I’ll remember that.”

“Why are you being like this?” Leigh sighed. She had merely wanted to check in, exchange a few pleasantries, and get back to her book, but she sensed that Russell was preparing a huge State of the Relationship talk. They were his specialty and her worst nightmare.

“Leigh, what’s going on with us?” His voice grew softer, gentler. “Seriously, I think we should talk about it.”

Leigh took a deep breath and exhaled silently. She strove for calm although her insides were screaming, No, no, no! I’m sick of talking about it. Let’s not talk about everything. Can’t we just tell each other about our days and move on? Please don’t do this to me! and said, “What do you mean, Russ? There’s nothing wrong with us.”

He was silent for a minute. “Do you really feel that way? Doesn’t it seem like there’s a lot of distance? And what am I supposed to say when people ask why we haven’t had our engagement party yet? That my fiancee doesn’t seem to have time, even though we’ve been engaged for five months?”

Oh god, please not this again. “You know what a big deal this is-why can’t you be understanding?”

“Yeah, well, call me crazy, but I guess I thought that getting married would be a big deal for you, too.”

“Of course it is. Which is why I want to wait until everything can be perfect.”

This wasn’t completely untrue. Leigh knew she was dragging her feet with all the plans. Part of it was just an overall lack of interest in all things wedding-related-she wasn’t the girl who picked out her gown at age twelve-and part of it was the dread of dealing with both her mother and Russell’s, but when she was completely honest with herself, Leigh knew it went beyond that.

For a while she could tell herself that everything was moving too quickly. After all, it felt like only yesterday that they were kissing for the first time on a bench in Union Square. She’d liked Russell very much then, too-she’d thought he was sweet and good-looking, and she was flattered that he was interested in her. She hoped they would date and the relationship would develop or disintegrate naturally. Either two people grow closer and thrive, or the connection slowly fizzles and it’s time to break up. She’d enjoy her time with Russell and not get all stressed out about what the future held. Which had worked fairly well, until he had gone and proposed. And not just proposed, but slid that ring onto her finger while Leigh sat frozen in shock, and then kissed her mouth as it hung open in disbelief. She had never been less prepared for anything in her entire life, and it didn’t take a genius to see that she’d been haunted by doubts these past few months. What she didn’t know how to explain to Russell-or anyone else-was what, exactly, was wrong. Nothing had changed between them since they’d first met; he was still every bit as sweet and kind and understanding. The problem was that Leigh was still waiting to fall head over heels in love with him, and everyone else-her friends, her parents, and worst of all Russell-thought she was already there. In light of all this, was it really so strange that she just wanted to take her time?

It was his turn to sigh. “I understand. I just wish there was, I don’t know, a little excitement in your voice. Do you even talk about it to the girls?”

“Of course I do,” Leigh lied. Emmy and Adriana asked about the upcoming wedding plans incessantly-they desperately wanted to plan a bachelorette party-but Leigh always found herself changing the subject. Why didn’t they understand that this was all going way too fast? Even thinking this, though, made her feel guilty, so she softened her voice and said, “Baby, I’m excited about everything. We’ll get married, and when that’s finished we’ll go somewhere exotic and very, very far away, like the Maldives, and we’ll just relax and enjoy each other, okay? I promise.”

“Will you wear that bikini I love? The one with the metal circles on the hips and in the middle of the top?”

“Definitely.”

“And you won’t bring your laptop or a single manuscript, not even just for reading on the plane?”

“Not a single one,” she said with certainty, although this gave her pause. “It will be perfect.”

“Deal,” Russell said, sounding as though the issue had been completely resolved.