The Good Girl's Guide to Bad Men (32 page)

"Okay, then," Jamie begins, his voice once again completely professional and detached. "I think we should start by discussing the dissolution of the previous agreement so that we can identify the key problem areas and work to resolve them in the new one."

I nod my head timidly but make no sound. Well, except for the small gurgle that comes from the back of my throat. But that's completely involuntary.

Is he seriously going through with this? Obviously this is some kind of joke. A gag. A prank.

But if it is, Jamie clearly isn't in on it, because he proceeds to remove a thick and rather daunting-looking document from his briefcase and plops it onto the table with a loud thud. Then he flips calmly to a flagged page about twenty sheets in and starts reading. "In section two C of our previous business agreement, it was stated that 'in creating this partnership and in the general spirit of all partnerships of this nature, both parties explicitly agree that every effort will be made to keep the other party fully abreast of any and all developments that hold relevance to the partnership.'" His voice is unnervingly impassive, like a robot's.

He stops reading and looks directly at me, his eyes penetrating mine with a steely expression. "It is my understanding that you (as a representative of your client) were in direct violation of this section."

I can barely understand anything he is saying.
What partnership? What agreement?
My dad told me that we were meeting with some guy he tried to form an LLP with last year and the partnership eventually fell through. But when did my dad go into business with Jamie? And why did no one tell me about this? Did they do it behind my back?

When I don't respond, Jamie interprets my silence as permission to continue. "Moving on to section four F." Mechanically, he flips to another flagged page and continues reading in that same cold, aloof tone: "In this section, it was explicitly stated that you were to abandon your previous business practices once the partnership was formed, as they were in direct conflict with the goals and objectives set forth by our agreement." He takes a breath and looks at me again. "It is my understanding that you were in direct violation of this section as well."

Wait a minute.
My mind is suddenly flooding.
Abandon your previous business practices?
Why would my dad sign an agreement that required him to quit his job? He loves his job. He would never agree to that.

Something is not right here. Something is not adding up.

"Do you agree that you failed to abandon your conflicting business practices in accordance with this agreement?"

"What?" I blubber, feeling frustrated to be so out of the loop. "No. I don't agree. I mean, I don't know what you're talking about. Jamie, what is going on here?"

He looks back at me questioningly, his eyebrows raised in innocent speculation. "So are you contesting this section as a valid reason for the dissolution?"

But I ignore his annoying business jargon and just ask him point-blank, "Did you go into business with my dad and not tell me? Was it while we were dating?"

But he remains silent, refusing to say a word. And this infuriates me even more. "I want to know what is happening here. And don't pretend you don't know."

Jamie's voice is patient but still detached. "I thought we all understood our purpose for today's meeting was to renegotiate a new and improved partnership."

My eyes narrow and I stare at him intently, trying to extract just one ounce of sense from his words. My superpower was always useless on Jamie. But you would think that after all the time that has passed, after everything I've been through to get to this point in my life, I would be able to read just one smidgen of a thought in his brain. Except I draw nothing but a blank.

And just as I'm about to rise up and storm out of this office in vehement protest, I catch the smallest twinkle in his eye and the faintest smirk on his lips.

And then suddenly his words repeat in my mind and everything starts to fall into place.
Abandon your previous business practices. Direct conflict with the goals and objectives set forth by our agreement. New and improved partnership.

The agreement he's referring to isn't between him and my father. It's between him and me.

Jamie is here to
negotiate
me back.

"Isn't that why we're here?" Jamie asks, forcing me back into the conversation.

I sit up a bit straighter, feeling a burst of electricity run through my body. My head is spinning and my heart is pounding in my chest, but I manage to match his professional tone and businesslike manner when I say, "Yes. That is why we're here. Please continue."

He nods appreciatively. "Thank you. So do you or do you not contest the violation of these agreements and accept responsibility for the resulting dissolution of the partnership?"

There is no way I could ever contest it. Or ever
would.
It's a responsibility I have been accepting fully for the past four months of my life. The responsibility that won't let me sleep at night. Won't let me walk the streets of Paris without seeing Jamie's face everywhere I go.
I
am the one who broke my promise. I am the one who hurt him. And now is my chance to tell him. And apologize.

I nod firmly. "I do take full responsibility for the dissolution of our previous partnership. And I am remorseful for the violations of our agreement and my blatant errors in judgment. But I am eager to renegotiate a new contract and prove my ability to maintain a successful partnership."

Jamie nods back. "Although it should also be noted that my party accepts partial responsibility for the dissolution as well. We acknowledge that the use of certain testing methods to analyze the durability of said agreement was dishonorable and in bad form. We also acknowledge that alternative methods utilizing communication between the two parties should have been employed instead."

I fight back a smile. "I acknowledge your acknowledgment."

"Good," Jamie states. "Then let's talk about the reconciliation."

My face is tight and rigid, matching Jamie's body language meticulously. But inside, I'm screaming. My pulse is racing at max speed. My stomach is churning.

"I think the key to the new partnership is to create an agreement that is fully amenable to both parties. And which both parties are comfortable upholding."

"I couldn't agree more."

"Very well, then," he continues in all seriousness. "I've given the reconciliation much thought. And I've come to the conclusion that the fundamental problem with the previous partnership all comes down to a question of language."

"Language?" I confirm curiously.

"Yes. It appears that your previous business practices did not lend themselves well to the establishment of a permanent,
traditional
form of agreement. And it was essentially the definition of the partnership that was ultimately problematic."

"I see," I reply, nodding pensively. "So what exactly are you offering as a proposed solution?"

Another deadpan smile. "I'm glad you asked." He reaches into his briefcase and removes a single sheet of white paper and places it facedown on the table in front of him. "I've created a proposal for a new and highly
untraditional
form of agreement that I hope you'll find suitable to your specific needs."

Slowly, he slides the paper across to me. "As you can see, it's significantly shorter than the previous one."

I stare down at the white page in front of me, feeling my throat go dry and my nerves go haywire.

"Go ahead," Jamie encourages me. "Take a look."

With shaking hands and uneven breath, I slowly flip the paper right side up and glance down at it. The page is completely blank except for one line in the middle, carefully typed in a basic Arial twelve-point font.

Will you not marry me?

And with that, I simply can't hold myself together any longer. My composure cracks and laughter escapes my lips. Glorious, liberating, joyful laughter.

"Do you not find the proposal amenable?" Jamie replies, his face still blank as a whitewashed stone.

I shake my head. "No, I do. It's . . . perfect." My voice breaks and the tears come. "I love you," I whisper.

At last, Jamie's professional, emotionless façade comes crashing down. And in its place is the warm, gentle smile that I thought I'd never see again. Except in my memories.

"I love you, too."

We rise from our seats at exactly the same moment and walk the length of the conference table until we meet in the middle. Our fingers touch first, then our palms, and then our lips. It's the kiss I've been dreaming about for four empty months.

He pulls me close to him, and I collapse against his chest, feeling the familiar sound of his heartbeat. It's pounding almost as fast and as furiously as mine.

The unforgettable warmth of his skin thaws me instantly. Paris has been so cold without it.

"How did you know I was here?" I ask into the fabric of his suit jacket. "How did you find me?"

He leans forward and kisses the top of my head. His lips feel heavy and purposeful. "I saw the article in the
L.A. Times.
About the agency." Then he places his hands on my shoulders and pulls me away so that he can look directly into my eyes. "I couldn't believe that you had given it up. I never thought you'd be capable of walking away from that life. I always thought it had to come first for you. That it would always be your priority. That's why I left. When I read that you were no longer running the agency, I went to your place to find you. But a strange pregnant woman answered the door. She said you had moved to Paris. I called your mom to confirm, and she told me what you had been doing here. The negotiator thing. And then she told me you had come here with your dad. Another shocking discovery. I could hardly believe it. It was like you had turned into a whole different person."

I laugh. He is absolutely right. I
have
turned into a different person. And definitely a better one. "When you left, everything changed," I say softly, feeling more tears well up. "Nothing made sense anymore. And it didn't take long for me to realize that choosing my past over my future with you was the wrong choice."

Jamie wraps his arms back around me and squeezes me tightly. I bury my face under his chin and we stay like that for a long time, locked in each other's arms in the middle of the drab and dreary corporate conference room. I breathe in the sweet scent of him. It fills me with so much joy because I thought I had lost it forever.

My mind flashes back across the last twenty minutes. The charade that Jamie set up to be here. Calling my father, flying halfway across the world. Just to ask for me back. I know it's something I'll always remember.

"I think I underestimated your acting skills," I say playfully, giving his chest a poke.

He chuckles. "I can pull out a noteworthy performance when it really matters." He exhales a heavy sigh. "I'm really proud of you, Jen. For who you've let yourself become."

I blush. Jamie has always had a way of making me do that. "I haven't
become
anyone else," I reply softly. "I'm just Jennifer."

"That's the only person I ever wanted you to be."

My eyes close as I try desperately to freeze-frame this moment in my mind so that I will be able to look back on it forever.

When they open again, I gaze out the window of my dad's office and can just make out the recognizable buildings of Paris in the distance. The cold, gray skies of March do nothing to cloud my mood.

"So this new 'partnership,' as you call it," I say, leaning back slightly and looking up at him. "Where is it supposed to take place? My life and work is in Paris now, and you still live in L.A."

But Jamie simply shrugs, as if this one tiny detail has never been an obstacle in his plan. "I think that part's negotiable."

Well, well . . . here we are. Book two. I can hardly believe it. I never thought I would actually get to this point. There were many times, while writing this book, that I felt like a cyclist trying to complete the Tour de France . . . on a tricycle. Fortunately, I had a very fantastic support team, as evidenced by the next few pages.

Michael and Laura Brody, thank you once again for your constant (if not sometimes delusional) belief in me and my ability to actually make a living as a crazy person (aka "writer"). Charlie, thank you for keeping me (relatively) sane and making me laugh. You're the only person I know who has the ability to make bookends funny. To Terra, thanks once again for your fashion expertise. And to John, for being the closest thing to a brother I'll ever have!

I owe a tremendous amount of gratitude to my fabulous agent, Elizabeth Fisher, for your enthusiasm, sympathetic ear, and undying support. Thanks also to Monika Verma, Miek Coccia, Sasha Raskin, and everyone at Levine Greenberg for all your hard work on my books.

Thank you to my two amazing editors, Jennifer Weis and Hilary Teeman, for believing in Jennifer/Ashlyn enough to let her live on in a second book! And mucho thanks to all the fine people at St. Martin's for everything you do: Anne Marie Tallberg, Nadea Mina, Joseph Goldschein, Matthew Shear, Anne Bensson, Kerry Nordling, Jeanette Levy, Brittney Kleinfelter, Ellis Trevor, Christina Harcar, and everyone else who has worked on my books whom I've not yet had the privilege of meeting.

I also really want to thank all the foreign publishers who have put my work on bookshelves around the world and the incredible people I've had the honor to work with, including but certainly not limited to: Gillian Green, Hannah Robinson, Katie Johnson, Alex Young, Louise McKee, Liz Marvin, Edward Griffiths, Sarah Bennie, and Caroline Craig at Ebury Press in the UK; Deborah Drubah, Estelle Revelant, Nicolas Watrin, and Francois Laurent at Fleuve Noir in France (
Je ne me souviens jamais mon voyage incroyable à Paris!
); Anne Tente and Ursula C. Sturm at Heyne in Germany; Tsiu-lun Liu at OctA in Taiwan; and everyone at Ast in Russia and Metafora in the Czech Republic.

A huge shout goes out to Marina Grasic, Christina Hodson, Elyse Lawson, Dominie Mahl, and everyone at Curious Pictures. Thank you for believing in this concept and taking it above and beyond the pages of a book. And thanks to Margery Walshaw for bringing me to them!

To my wonderful and savvy entertainment lawyer, Mark Stankevich. Just the fact that I'm thanking my lawyer means that he's obviously not your typical lawyer (I know, a low-ball, cheap shot at lawyers, but I simply couldn't resist).

There are so many other people to thank as well that I simply cannot leave out: Jessen Gregory, for making sure my references to divorce law sounded at least
somewhat
plausible. Noemie Demol, for making sure I didn't completely embarrass myself on French television. Alyson Noël, for doing equal parts to inspire me with your success and help me procrastinate with your hilarious e-mails. I guess it all evens out in the end. Ella Gaumer, my first (and most devoted) fan. You'll always have a spot under my umbrella.

Once again, everyone who helped with the book trailer, I am incredibly indebted to you. Deprise Brescia, you continue to sparkle and shine as Ashlyn. Carla Holden, your beautiful voice, music, and lyrics took this trailer to new heights! Jerry Brunskill, there would be no trailer without you. And I mean that quite literally.

I also want to thank everyone at Yahoo's
Primetime in No Time
— Corey Moss, Frank Nicotero, Jason Fitzpatrick, and Nick Paschal— for putting up with my wordiness and allowing me to be just one of the guys (even if I'm
still
never invited to poker).

And last but never least, thanks to all the readers out there who took time out of their busy and important lives to read
The Fidelity Files
and now
The Good Girl's Guide to Bad Men.

Your e-mails and Facebook messages are the reasons I keep writing. My only quest in life is to entertain you. I hope that I've succeeded.

Turn the page for an exclusive interview with Jessica Brody . . .