The Muse (33 page)

It wasn’t difficult to imagine how the past week must have felt from Olive’s perspective. “I’m so sorry.” It was the only thing she could think to say. “It’s hard to explain, and I know it sounds ridiculous, but I honestly tried my best to find a way to contact you. She’s just…too clever. Today was the first real chance I had to get away.”

As though noticing her attire for the first time, Olive frowned and gave her a careful once-over. “Wait, are you saying you literally had to
escape
from her to come here?”

Kate was stumped. Tell the truth and she might just win Olive’s sympathy and forgiveness, but then what? Olive would want to confront Erato, or even call the police, if she knew Kate was actually being held against her will. For some insane reason, that still wasn’t how Kate wanted to handle things. Erato was essentially harmless—but also because a police investigation would cause her to miss her deadline, not to mention totally complicate her life. And the entire endeavor would probably backfire. Law-enforcement officers wouldn’t be magically immune to Erato’s limitless charms and supernatural influence, and who knew how that might play out? All in all, complete honesty seemed like an unattractive option. Of course, she could downplay the reality of her captivity, even though it would make Olive doubt her claim that she’d genuinely tried to get in touch but couldn’t.

Yup. No good answer.

Kate cleared her throat. “I had to sneak away. I have only two weeks until my deadline, so Erato has basically ordered me to focus on writing to the exclusion of everything else. She doesn’t understand why it was so important to me that you and I talk before the end of the month, and I knew the only way I’d manage to see you was by not asking permission.” She stopped, displeased. Was she making herself sound weak? Or like someone that others could easily manipulate and control, even to her own detriment?

Shit. Kate wouldn’t want to date
herself
at this point. Unless she admitted that Erato was more than an average, overbearing human female, the fact that she was allowing a woman she was no longer even sleeping with to control her made her poor relationship material. Wishing she had the courage to explain why she felt so powerless to defy Erato, and that Olive would listen to that fantastical story with an open mind, she decided to shift gears and focus on what was really important.

“I like you, Olive, very much. I care about you and I desperately,
desperately
want to get to know you more. It kills me that I hurt you, and I fully acknowledge I don’t really have a good excuse for my lack of communication over the past week—regardless of Erato’s rules and restrictions.” She paused, then decided to lay her heart bare, consequences be damned. “I think we could make each other very happy, if you’ll just give me another chance.”

Olive folded her arms over her chest, still guarded. “I need you to explain this Erato situation to me. Please.” She waited a beat, then said, “Are you still sleeping with her?”

Kate shook her head emphatically. “No, not since that night the three of us were together. She’s been staying in the guest room, and honestly, we’re barely speaking. At this point things are strained, to say the least. I tried to sever our working relationship after she took my cell phone, but she refused. In fact, she says she won’t leave until I finish the book, and it’s easier to just put my head down and do it than try to kick her out at this point.”

Olive’s expression of concern deepened. “So, what, she’s a squatter now?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes, I suppose she is.”

“A squatter who has taken away your cell phone, attempted to isolate you from the rest of the world, and sabotaged a potential new relationship.” Olive gave her a pointed look. “Have you thought about contacting the police?”

Well, damn. There it was, exactly the question she hadn’t wanted to field. “It’s…not like that.” Kate struggled for a way to explain everything without trying to convince Olive that Erato was an honest-to-God muse that mere mortals couldn’t stop, but she came up empty. This entire day was really crushing her storytelling self-esteem. Dumbly, she said, “I just think that would be overkill.”

Once again, Olive’s emotional state shifted before her eyes. Concern turned to wariness. “Fair enough.”

Encouraged that Olive hadn’t yet walked away, Kate said, “Look, I’m almost done with this novel. If I know you don’t hate me—that maybe you’re even willing to wait two more weeks and give me one last chance to show you exactly how important you are to me—maybe I’ll be able to wrap it up even faster. Once I’ve submitted a manuscript to my publisher, Erato will leave. Then you and I will be free to get on with our lives…hopefully together, if I’m somehow able to make this up to you.” Her heart threatened to pound out of her chest when she saw how unconvinced Olive remained. “Olive, I promise this isn’t what life with me would be like—full of drama and complication. Usually I’m
way
more boring than my books, I swear. And fully in charge of my own life and decisions.”

Olive nodded, but she radiated sadness. “I don’t hate you, Kate. I was hurt, and upset, and honestly very angry, but I’m not anymore. Now I’m just disappointed, and that’s on me, not you. I accept your apology
and
I forgive you. I don’t want to hinder your progress on the book, all right? So don’t let me—we’re fine, you and me, and God knows you don’t owe me anything.”

While she appreciated being let off the hook, that sounded a little too much like a brush-off. Olive hadn’t offered to wait for her. Stomach turning, she searched Olive’s face for a crack in her stoic facade. Didn’t the thought of never seeing each other again hurt her, too? “May I call you?”

“You mean in two weeks?”

Kate hesitated. She couldn’t make any promises that might be broken. “Unless I can figure out a way to do it sooner.”

Olive gave her a humorless smile that contained absolutely none of the warmth Kate was used to seeing. “I really don’t think it’s a good idea. I’m sorry.” For an instant, Olive’s composure wavered. Kate could see genuine sorrow in her eyes and, if she squinted, perhaps even a moderate dose of second-guessing. But Olive was clearly committed to her course of action, because she didn’t hesitate to say, “We had a lot of fun together, and nothing can ever change that. More importantly, you single-handedly reintroduced me to the land of the living, for which I will always,
always
be grateful. As much as I’d love to keep the good times going, I just…can’t do this anymore. There’s too much uncertainty for me, as much as I wish that wasn’t the case.” She paused, then as though anticipating a rebuttal, added, “You say now that she’ll leave in two weeks, but what if she decides to stay? I wish I could trust you—and her—at your word, but I don’t. Unfortunately.”

She didn’t drop onto her knees and beg Olive to reconsider because doing so would almost certainly make her look stupider than she already felt. Which was pretty goddamn stupid. Why
had
she let Erato bully her into submission? Now that she wasn’t trapped in her apartment, it was easy to chide herself for not fighting back harder—physically, if necessary. By falling in line with Erato’s totalitarian coaching style, she’d thrown away what might very well have been her only opportunity to experience the kind of love and desire that had until now been reserved only for her characters.

Even if Erato was supernaturally endowed with the ability to charm, persuade, and manipulate nearly everyone she met, Kate had fallen out from under her spell days ago. Sure, obstacles had littered her path, but surely she could have done more to reach Olive, and faster. And Olive had a point: if Erato refused to leave after her deadline had passed, Kate could have real trouble delivering on her promise of a more simplified life. What if Erato
was
lying about leaving?

Grief swelled deep inside her aching chest, followed by a breathless wave of regret. It was over. But didn’t that mean she had nothing left to lose? Maybe she should just confess Erato’s true nature, to explain how she’d gotten herself into this predicament and why it was so difficult to get out. Olive
might
believe her. But she rejected the desperate notion almost as soon as it crossed her mind. Olive already thought she was weak and easily manipulated; she didn’t need to add mentally unstable to the list. At this point, her perceived sanity was one of the only things she still had going for her.

“I’ve got to get back to work. You should, too.” Olive had gentled her voice, and from the tenderness in her eyes, it was clear she recognized the devastation she’d just wrought. Her full lower lip quivered briefly before she managed a weak smile. “Go home, Kate. Finish your book. I look forward to buying a copy.”

Gutted by the new formality between them, Kate met Olive’s pained gaze with tears in her eyes. “I’m happy to send you a free copy. You were my inspiration, after all. And I owe you for the muffin.”

Olive closed her eyes briefly, then scrubbed her face with her hand and turned away. “Thank you, and good luck. I’ve really got to go now.” She’d finally lost the battle with her own tears, evidence that she wasn’t as unmoved as she clearly wanted to seem. Kate wished she could draw more hope from that than she did. Olive obviously cared about her—something real
was
there, for both of them—but without trust, they had nothing. No foundation to build on, no basis for a lasting relationship. Even if Olive were willing to give her another chance, she wouldn’t be able to start earning her trust back until Erato had disappeared from her life, and by then it would be far too late.

It was probably already too late.

Utterly defeated, Kate said, “I apologize for ambushing you. Tell your father I’m sorry, too, for the scene.” She paused, wishing she could conjure up a magical turn of phrase that would fix everything. Unfortunately, she wasn’t nearly that clever with words. At a loss, she opened her mouth and spoke from her heart without trying to find the right thing to say. “I wish things had turned out differently. For a while I actually thought you might be my happily-ever-after. At least I really hoped you would be.”

Olive’s shoulders hitched. Still facing away from Kate, she said, “Me, too.” Then she made good on her promise to return to work, hurrying away toward the market without looking back.

As Kate trudged back to the parking lot to meet Chad, weighed down by regret and self-recrimination and soul-draining sadness, she realized that writing was literally the last thing she wanted to do—yet it was exactly what she
must
do, if she ever wanted to be rid of Erato. Necessary or not, she couldn’t imagine spending the rest of the day at her laptop, engineering a happy ending for her characters when she’d just ruined her own. Erato might have taught her to write through adversity, but this was a whole different kind of obstacle. It seemed almost cruel to expect her to write a love story with a freshly broken heart.

How the hell am I supposed to finish this book now?

*

Erato was waiting for her in the window of her office when she and Chad returned to the apartment roughly forty minutes after Kate’s not-so-great escape. If her muse was angry she hid it well, flashing Chad a radiant smile as she leaned over the ledge and proudly displayed her cleavage. “Well hello, you two. I was just wondering where my sweet Kate had disappeared to…”

Chad beamed up at her, then at Kate, wholly unconcerned that they’d been caught. “Busted.”

Erato shifted her gaze to regard Kate with a bemused expression. Though her muse’s cheerful facade never wavered, Kate sensed that she was in for a world of trouble once they were alone. In full flirtation mode, Erato said, “Should I be jealous?”

Kate was too mortified to answer, but Chad eagerly played along. “Are you kidding me? I can’t possibly compete with what Kate has waiting for her at home.” He winked. Erato giggled.

Kate barely suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.

Now entirely focused on Chad, Erato touched her collarbone in a way that seemed absentminded but no doubt wasn’t, not-so-subtly ensuring that he couldn’t possibly focus anywhere but in the vicinity of her infuriatingly amazing tits. “How are you, Chad? Making any headway on your first novel?”

He brightened, clearly excited that she’d recalled a key detail from their previous interactions. “A little, actually, thanks. The advice you gave me really helped.”

Kate had heard enough. After having her heart ripped out and stomped on by a woman she’d fantasized about growing old with, she had absolutely no patience for watching Erato and Chad eye-fuck each other while chatting about craft issues. “On that note, I should really get back to work.”

Erato gave her an approving, condescending nod. “Agreed.”

Not eager to be left alone with an angry muse, Kate said, “But please feel free to continue your conversation. Maybe you two should go get coffee somewhere and talk about character development or plotting or whatever.”

Erato gave Chad an apologetic smile. “Rain check, maybe? I really need to give Kate my undivided attention until she wraps her book up. Can’t take our eyes off the prize now that we’re in the home stretch, you know?”

Kate couldn’t believe the litany of clichés that poured from Erato’s full, pink lips. Her editor would slather her in red ink if she wrote dialogue like that. The small, silly observation helped dispel the notion that Erato was some infallible pinnacle of creation and served as a boon to her sanity.

“I get it.” Chad bent to whisper to Kate, “Probably for the best, anyway. Didn’t you have something you wanted to give her?”

With no idea what he was talking about, she nodded anyway. No point in resisting the inevitable now that Olive was lost. Two more weeks in her office prison—consisting of nearly fourteen full days of misery-fueled writing—and she would hopefully be done with Erato for good. Then she could move on and maybe even learn something from this experience. As long as the moral of this story wasn’t “you had one shot at happiness and a crazy ancient Greek muse ruined it,” that would at least be something. Looking up at Erato, she said, “Will you unlock the front door for me?”