As Long As You Love Me Part 25

At first it was a little strange, but I got used to coming home here, just like I had the apartment in Michigan. For the first time in my life, I felt like a functioning adult. No wild drinking, and my anxiety attacks flared less. Routine helped, and life with Rob definitely ran on a pattern. He got home from work later than me, so I usually made dinner. He cleaned up, then we snuggled for a while on the couch.

Around nine, he went to the garage to work on his furniture orders and I went up to my office to write code. Happy usually went with me and curled up on the bed to nap. She was a good dog, not p.r.o.ne to chasing things or barking, though sometimes the squirrels taunted her beyond all bearing. At eleven, Rob met me in the bedroom for s.e.x or sleep, usually the first, then the second. Sometimes I caught myself humming when there was no music, just full of such joy that I couldn't contain it.

Now that I was living with him, though, I made a point of hanging out with Krista, Avery and Jillian on Friday nights. I couldn't be one of those girls who turned her boyfriend into her whole world. Krista was generally glad to get away from adorable Naomi for a few hours, giving her mom a chance to spoil her. The rest of us weren't as enthralled with the endless pictures, but then we inst.i.tuted another rule for girls' night-no baby pics or talk about dudes. Once we established that, it was a lot more fun.

In September, my mom got married. It was a small service with dinner for friends and family afterward, much less formal than the engagement party. Stuart's family flew in for the big event, and I found Randall just as obnoxious the second time. But he wasn't the best man, so he didn't get to give a toast. Things wrapped up early because the bride and groom were heading to the airport to catch a late flight, stopover in L.A. and then on for two glorious weeks in Hawaii.

"You look beautiful," I said, hugging my mom.

"Thanks. You're doing well with Rob, right? I hope you didn't move because-"

"Is this really the time to check that?" I teased.

My mom had taken it well when I told her I was moving out. She might deny it, but I suspected she was a little relieved that she could start fresh with Stuart without me around cramping their style. I'd asked her why she was so weird about confessing to the engagement and she was quiet for a while.

Finally, she'd said, "I was afraid you'd be upset. You had so many...challenges when you got home. I was worried Stuart would be another stressor for you."

Then I'd realized she was talking about my anxiety issues, something we usually tiptoed around. Well, I could understand, though it hadn't been necessary to walk on eggsh.e.l.ls for me. Anyway, I liked Stuart, and it was fine.

I'm happy.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

Aloud, I said, "Things are great. Don't worry, have an amazing honeymoon. Take lots of pictures. Of the scenery!" I added at Stuart's look of mock alarm.

Rob came up beside me as the car drove off. "Your mom's all grown up. It's so hard to watch them leave the nest, huh?"

I poked him. "Don't be cute. Oh, wait, you can't help it."

It was late when we got home, and Happy was beside herself with joy. She pranced around our ankles, begging for belly rubs. Out of habit, I checked around for accidents, though she'd gotten the hang of the dog door weeks ago. Nope, no problems. Rob sat down at the computer to look at his furniture orders.

"d.a.m.n. At this rate, I have enough work to keep me half through the winter."

"In a couple of years, you won't need to work construction at all. I'm so proud of you."

He pulled me onto his lap, encircling my waist with one arm. "You did most of it."

"Bulls.h.i.t. The internet fell in love with you, not me."

"Not sure that's the right word." But his tone was distracted, so I leaned over to read the message that had him so wide-eyed.

Dear Mr. Conrad, First, let me say that your house is absolutely fantastic; I especially love the floors, but your furniture designs are impressive and stylish, as well.

I'm with the Hearth & Home Network. If you're unfamiliar with us, we're a cable TV station in Toronto that specializes in home improvement programming. One of your fans saw a posting on our site about an open call for a new host, and she sent us a link to your video channel, along with an enthusiastic endors.e.m.e.nt. She made it really clear she'd love to see you on TV, and now that I've perused your videos, I agree. You have the X factor that should appeal to our target demographic. I'd like to set up a meeting to discuss some mutually beneficial opportunities-at our expense, naturally. If you're interested, write back at your earliest convenience, and I'll make the travel arrangements. Please come prepared for a screen test and to brainstorm ideas with our producer. I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely, Annette Caldwell Rob glanced up at me. "Is this for real?"

Taking the keyboard, I checked a few things in the hidden header data and nodded. "It seems to be. I've heard of them."

"That's crazy. They want to put me on TV?"

"You should email her," I said, though inwardly I was freaking out. "At worst, you get a free trip to Canada."

"Would you go with me, if you can get time off?"

"Sure, if you want me."

"You're the one who started all of this. It wouldn't feel right without you."

With my help, he drafted a professional-sounding reply, explaining that he had time constraints and it might take a little while for him to free up his schedule. If she truly was interested, I guessed that she'd say "no problem." And sure enough, by afternoon the next day, she replied, Just let me know when you can make it, and I'll take it from there. I talked to Davies while Rob made arrangements with his foreman. Avery agreed to house-sit with Happy, which was kind of weird.

We both applied on rush for pa.s.sports, which took about a week. Way faster than I wanted, we were on a plane to Toronto. Rob paid for my ticket while the network took care of everything for him.

This is exactly the kind of thing that'll give me a panic attack.

A driver with Rob's name on an iPad screen was waiting for us at baggage claim. They shook hands, and he explained the plan as he opened the rear door of the Lincoln Town Car. "I'll wait while you get checked in, and then I'm taking you downtown to meet with Ms. Caldwell."

"Sounds good," Rob said.

The back of the Lincoln was completely lux, all leather and automated everything. It had tiny bottles of water, candy and packs of peanuts. If I wasn't so nervous, I'd sample the fancy European chocolate. But that would probably end in me barfing over the seat, so I sat quietly while Rob talked to the driver, asking questions about Toronto. I'd never noticed it, but away from his family's scrutiny, he did really well with people.

We pulled up outside a posh high-rise hotel, the sort of place I'd never stayed at in my life. I'd only flown four times in total, and the vacations my mom could afford before I left home didn't stretch to penthouse suites. A doorman hurried to escort us out of the car, and looking at his uniform, I felt really underdressed in jeans, boots and a faux-leather jacket. Nothing seemed to faze Rob as the valet asked about our luggage.

"Just this," he said, patting his shoulder bag, "but thanks."

At reception, everything was already arranged. The girl didn't even ask for a credit card. She peeked at Rob's ID and gave him a thousand-watt smile. "You're on the eleventh floor, and you've been granted access to the hospitality suite. It will be down the hall and to the right. From here, the elevators are across the lobby and past the bar. Did you have any questions?"

"No, that's fine, thanks." Rob smiled at her, and I swore I heard her heartbeat speed up.

This was...weird. And awful. So much awful. But if I didn't want Rob to be successful, then I was a horrible person, an anchor around his neck. So I swallowed the bad feelings, pretending I didn't feel completely invisible. At check-in, the girl didn't look at me once.

The driver called, "I'll be in the car, come when you're ready. They're waiting for you."

"Have a wonderful time, Mr. Conrad. Do let me know if there's anything at all I can do to make your stay more enjoyable." It wasn't what she said so much as how she said it.

Fighting the urge to hiss, I followed Rob to the elevator bank and up to our room, which was gorgeous, ultramodern but perfectly furnished. He dropped his bag on the bed and crossed to the window to stare out at the city skyline for a few seconds. When he turned to face me, his face was alight with excitement, eyes as bright as I'd ever seen them.

"Can you believe this?"

"It's amazing," I said.

I'd never had to hide how I felt from Rob before. There was nothing good about my mood, but it would be worse to dump all over his enthusiasm. Setting my backpack down, I admired the view, though my heart wasn't in it. All of the cars pa.s.sing below only reminded me how many people were all around me, and I might have to talk to them.

But this isn't about you.

"Bathroom." He ducked inside, and I rested my head against the cold gla.s.s, sick to my stomach like I was in Michigan.

Booze would make this better.

Ignoring that idea, I went with Rob down to the lobby. Outside, the driver bounded out when he caught sight of us. Apparently he had orders to offer full VIP treatment. September in Toronto was beautiful, bright and clear, but my nerves didn't allow me to enjoy the short drive to the station. House Beautiful occupied five floors in a skysc.r.a.per a mile and a half away, and Ms. Caldwell came down to greet us in person; she was a beautiful brunette in her late thirties, expensively dressed in a black suit and phenomenal shoes. If I was right about the brand marked by a red sole, they cost more than everything I owned except my car.

"So great to meet you," she said, offering a hand to Rob.

"Likewise."

In the elevator, he introduced me and I got a nod. "Right, you said that your girlfriend handled the technical aspects of your web series. Don't worry, we have people for that."

It was hard not to take that personally. But I pressed my lips together. I'm moral support, that's all. I won't screw things up for him by arguing with Annette. There was a whole team waiting in a conference room with job descriptions I forgot as soon as I heard them. They had a concept ready to run, provided Rob tested well on screen and with various focus groups. I blank-stared through a lot of it, though I tuned back in toward the end.

Annette Caldwell was saying, "We'd like to fold your video series into the show, do a segment called 'At Home with Rob.' That way, you keep the brand you've already built, but we can also work within the framework of Hot Property to grow your name recognition."

Seriously? He'll never agree to that. If I knew him at all, it would push all of his b.u.t.tons in the wrong way.

But Rob was nodding thoughtfully. "The focus of the show is renovations that will increase the resale value of the home?"

"Yes, we'll let you pick projects from a pool of homeowners, all of whom are willing to invest a minimum of ten thousand dollars in their homes in the hopes of turning a profit when they flip it. In return, they'll be featured on the show with you and receive a reduced rate on your renovations. You'll also be in charge of a crew of five a.s.sistants, and you can select from the prescreened candidates earmarked by the producer. A number of them sent resumes for the hosting call, but they aren't quite what we're looking for in a show anchor."

You mean they're not hot enough, I thought sourly.

"It's a fun concept," Rob said. "When's the screen test scheduled?"

"In fifteen minutes, provided you're still on board."

I expected him to look at me, as he usually did, but he tapped his fingers for a few seconds, then said, "Let's do it."

Ms. Caldwell turned to me. "Feel free to make yourself comfortable in here or in the waiting room. This shouldn't take long. I mean, given how many videos Rob's made already, it's a formality to satisfy the sponsors and the tech crew." She smiled at me, too many teeth for me to read it as sincere. "I can have the receptionist bring you some coffee or tea. Juice? Water?"

"No, I'm fine. Thanks." I got out my phone because that was what people did to pretend they had something important to do.

By the time they got back, my battery was virtually dead. On the plus side, I didn't have to talk to anyone. Rob was laughing at something Ms. Caldwell said, seeming completely at ease with all of the people surrounding him. Just as well, if this was actually happening, and he'd be crazy to turn them down. Probably some higher-ups would have to approve the budget and give the producers the green light, but it seemed promising, so much that my stomach hurt. And I hated myself because I liked our quiet life. I didn't want things to change, but it seemed like the world had finally noticed what I knew all along.

Yeah. Rob's special.

"Everything looks really good," she said, poised in perfect silhouette in the doorway. "Naturally, there will be a number of professional appearances during launch week. Parties, openings, interviews. We want to get you in front of national media as much as possible. Are you familiar with sweeps?"

He shook his head. "Sorry, I'm not much of a TV guy."

That appeared to delight her, maybe because it meant he wouldn't turn into a fame-hungry diva so fast. "I'll explain later. Once we get the go-ahead, I'll email you the contracts to look over. But...we're getting a bit ahead of ourselves." She touched his arm, smiling. "I have a good feeling, though, don't you?"

He smiled back. "You've been really nice."

I stood up, swallowing a sigh, because I had the crazy idea I could walk between them and neither one would even see me.

She added, "Feel free to charge dinner to the room. Normally I'd take you out to celebrate, but I suspect it's been a full enough day already."

"Definitely." Rob was just too handsome for his own good. In plaid flannel, he glowed with a wholesome charm that made women want to eat him up.

By Annette Caldwell's expression, she'd have him for breakfast. "I'll walk you down and make sure the driver's ready for you."

I didn't say much of anything on the trip back. Rob filled me in on everything they'd discussed, and I nodded a lot. His enthusiasm was infectious-or it should've been-but I had nothing but knots tangling my circulatory system, so my heartbeat felt wrong, and I tasted copper in my mouth. Most people a.s.sociated it with blood but for me, it was dread.

"You're quiet," he noted as we climbed out of the Town Car.

"It's been a long day."

"What do you think?"

"It's an incredible opportunity," I said honestly.

While I didn't love the show's name, it was catchy-with a solid premise. Moreover, it was something Rob could do and do well. Back before we got together, he'd told me how he wanted to flip houses for a living instead of work construction. Now he might be offered a shot to do that-on TV. Apparently, it would only be airing in Canada to start, but they had a good track record with American syndication.

"I can't even..." As we got in the elevator, he trailed off, shaking his head. "It's so hard to wrap my head around. Some lady sends an email, Annette clicks a link and...all of this."

I forced a smile. "It's your X factor."

Grinning, he swept me off my feet and into his arms. An older couple was waiting on eleven when the doors opened, but Rob only smiled at them and carried me down the hall to our room. I caught the woman checking him out as he set me on my feet outside the door. Yeah, he'll play well with a certain demographic. We ordered a fancy dinner to celebrate this momentous occasion, but for me, it felt like the end of life as I knew it. Rob didn't notice that my smile was frozen as we ate. But he picked up on it as I got ready for bed.

"You sure you're okay?"

Not ruining this for you. I refuse.

So I dredged up a sheepish look. "Would it be weird if I FaceTimed Avery so I can see Happy? I miss her."

His gaze softened. "Not at all. You're adorable, you know that, right? And don't worry, we'll be home by this time tomorrow."

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.

After we got back from Toronto, it seemed like we were in a holding pattern.

I'd gotten As in my summer cla.s.ses, and the two I was taking this fall were going well also. On the surface, nothing had changed; we still did everything we had before, but now life seemed to be stamped with a doom clock. Perversely, in my spare time, I promoted Rob's channel even more. At his request, I posted a notice on his website that he was no longer taking orders-he had to catch up on the backlog, and he reported a flood of emails.

"Listen to this one," he said, laughing. "'Dear Rob, I was totally going to order a bedside table, so I could put your picture on it. By the way, I'm the one who contacted Hearth & Home about you. It would mean the world to me if you wrote back. Keep me posted, okay? They won't tell me anything, even though I've emailed at least five times. Your biggest fan, Carina.'"

I managed a smile. "You should start a line of trading cards with various action-man building poses."

He laughed and kissed my temple. "Cute. It's so weird when you say stuff like that. Don't they realize I'm just a normal guy?"

"You're not just anything."

That night, when we had s.e.x, for me it had an edge of desperation. I was storing up Rob memories because unlike him, I knew our time was limited. Already it felt like he was somebody different and foreign, not the guy I had been living with. Before going out to his workshop, he spent an hour a night responding to fan mail.

In mid-October, he got the call I had been dreading. It was Thursday, and we'd both just gotten home from work. It must be late in Toronto, but Annette Caldwell must be eager to talk to him. From the astonishment and joy in his expression, it was good news. I left the room, not wanting to overhear the details, and went out to the backyard with Happy to throw the tennis ball for her. It was chilly enough that I needed my jacket, but I didn't have it. Soon my fingers were numb and clumsy as I chucked the ball.