The Muse (35 page)

After that, she would have to write a reunion between Rose and Molly in which story problems are resolved and their relationship officially begins—topped off with some steamy, desperately needed sex.
That
chapter would be a problem. She knew it already. Hell, even the pivotal scene with Molly and Rose’s mother was proving to be a problem, and it was the part she’d longed to write since she’d conceived of the characters and their story. Unfortunately, despite falling into a natural groove while navigating the doom-and-gloom section of the tale, she was finding it much more difficult to switch gears and channel a spirit of forgiveness and reconciliation into her writing.

If she wasn’t feeling it, she wasn’t feeling it. Period. Hadn’t that sort of been Erato’s point from the beginning? The reason she’d not only thrown herself at Kate, but also dragged her out for their ill-fated sexual adventure in the first place? Back then, Erato had understood that Kate was detached from her sexuality as it related to other people, and that the resulting emotional and physical deficit prevented her from truly connecting with her art. Now, however, she apparently thought it was reasonable to demand that Kate write the happy, emotionally satisfying conclusion to her fairy tale while drowning in an ocean of her own tears and regret.

Overall, Erato’s performance as a writing coach had gone seriously downhill. Kate wished for a supervisor she could speak to—or maybe a performance evaluation to fill out. The thought made her smile a little, which was nice…even if it didn’t help her write any more words.

A commotion that sounded like it was coming from outside in the hallway dragged her out of her silent musing. She heard a muffled thump. Then shouting. Another thump. Startled, Kate swiveled in her chair to face the doorway, unwilling to guess what madness lay on the other side. With Erato, who knew? Whatever was coming, she hoped like hell it wouldn’t derail her mood even further. She had only nine more full days to complete her manuscript before her deadline arrived, which didn’t feel like nearly enough time when she considered the arduous task in front of her. She was low on energy, patience, and inspiration, and she didn’t want to write a fake happy ending when she’d just discovered firsthand that it took more than a genuine connection, great sex, and good intentions to make even the most promising of meet-cute relationships work.

“This had better be
really
good,” Kate murmured under her breath. Her stomach twisted in anticipation of the chaos about to erupt before her. Seriously, how the hell did Erato expect her to work? It was hard enough to tackle the seemingly impossible without also having to fend off random, rude interruptions from the person who claimed to want to protect her productivity above all else. “No distractions, my ass.”

“What the
fuck
do you think you’re doing
?
”

Kate jolted upright at the very familiar voice right outside her office door.
Oh, shit.

“Please don’t make this any more difficult—”

“Difficult? Bitch, this is
kidnapping
!”

The sound of at least one—but most likely two—bodies slamming against the wall had Kate jumping to her feet, horrified by the fear and rage in Olive’s voice. Clearly she had been brought to the apartment very much against her will, through force. What the hell was Erato thinking? Was she a lunatic or just totally out of touch with human nature? The police would definitely get called now. If not by her neighbors, then by Olive, and with Kate’s blessing. As far as distractions went, being made to act as an accessory to the abduction of a woman she really liked—who no longer returned that feeling—was about as disruptive as it got. Certainly more disruptive than a few dinner dates would have been.

As she listened to the tussle in the hallway, Kate knew one thing: in forcing Olive here, Erato had almost certainly sabotaged whatever chance Kate had of actually meeting her deadline. Which meant that everything she’d done—to Kate
and
to Olive—had been for nothing.

That made her every bit as angry as Olive sounded. What an idiot she’d been to ever think Erato had some master plan, or that the torment she’d exacted like a malevolent child on a defenseless animal had a real purpose. With one bone-headed, impulsive decision, Erato had revealed herself as an impostor. No grand design was at work here. No deep psychological understanding of Kate’s needs as an artist, or even the seemingly supernatural ability to meet them. Whatever magic Erato had seemed to bring into Kate’s writing life had obviously been an illusion, a clever manipulation executed by a sexually available con artist with all-too-human imperfections. Kate no longer had any doubt about Erato’s true nature.

A real muse would understand that this was just
too much
. Nobody could write through something this fucked up.

Horrified that she was about to face a justifiably irate Olive while once again scandalously underdressed—this time only in pajama shorts and a skintight camisole—Kate circled in place and hunted for an escape while the knob on her office door jiggled. Her only option was the window, and she didn’t want to go that route again. When the door burst open and Olive and Erato tumbled into the room, she was still standing there. Still barely dressed. Completely mortified.

Olive regained her balance before Erato did and lunged at her wildly. “Let me the hell out of here.”

Erato dodged Olive’s attempt to grab her, slipping out the door and slamming it closed with a graceful pirouette. Kate’s heart stuttered when she realized that Erato was going to lock them in. Together. Olive had been charitable to her the last time they’d spoken, but Erato had just destroyed any goodwill she might have felt toward Kate or the time they’d spent together. This wasn’t going to be fun.

“Bitch, open the motherfucking door!” Olive grabbed the doorknob and rattled it angrily before pushing away with a grunt of frustration. She raked a hand over her short hair, then turned and stopped as she seemed to notice Kate standing there for the first time. “Were you in on this?”

“What? No!” When Olive took a step forward, Kate took a step back, bumping into her desk. “I had no idea she was bringing you here.”

Olive abruptly halted in the center of the room. “Why did she?”

“I don’t know.”

No doubt coursing with adrenaline, Olive’s entire body had started to shake. “You know this is fucking crazy, right?”

“Yes, of course.” Concerned by her obvious distress, Kate gathered her courage and moved closer, but stopped when Olive held up a trembling hand. The confrontation with Erato had obviously rattled her, probably even traumatized her—a woman who had already faced as much trauma as some of Kate’s most tragic characters. Even if she hadn’t known what Erato was going to do, even if she
couldn’t
control her muse in any meaningful sense, Kate still accepted that Olive’s pain was entirely her fault. “Are you all right? What happened?”

Olive’s hand drifted to her chest, settling over her heart as though trying to keep it from pounding its way out. “She grabbed me when I was getting into my car in the parking garage at the mall. Like she was in a goddamn action movie. Just wrapped her arms around me and started dragging me over to the truck.” The anger that had started to recede flooded back full force. “A uniformed cop was standing right there! I called out to him for help, but she somehow managed to convince the guy she was just helping a drunk friend home. Despite the fact that I was
clearly
articulate and
clearly
begging for his assistance! I offered to take a breathalyzer to prove I was sober, but instead he
helped
Erato get me into the truck. Even put plastic zip ties around my wrists so I wouldn’t put up as much of a fight.” Glowering, Olive paced back and forth while rubbing the aforementioned wrists. “That was either the most straight-up racist bullshit I’ve ever personally experienced, or else your girl has the ability to manipulate absolutely everyone she meets. Except me, that is.”

“She’s not my girl.” Kate cringed as soon as the words left her mouth. Of everything Olive had just said, that was perhaps the least important point. To Olive, especially. “But that doesn’t matter. I’m absolutely horrified by what Erato did to you. I’m so sorry that cop fell under her spell, though I’m not surprised. He had absolutely no right to assault you like that, and neither did she. I swear I had no clue she was planning this. If I had, I swear I’d have tried to stop her.”

“
Could
you have stopped her?” Olive studied her carefully, as though still trying to decide whether Kate bore any responsibility for what she’d just endured. “Based on the past half hour we spent together, I’d say Erato is used to getting exactly what she wants.”

“That’s certainly true.” Kate considered her options, then sighed. She could be honest because Olive’s opinion of her couldn’t get any lower, even if the story she had to tell sounded absolutely batshit crazy. “You’re right about her ability to manipulate. At the farmers’ market, you asked if I’d thought about calling the police when she wouldn’t leave my apartment. What happened to you today is
exactly
why I didn’t want to. I knew she’d be able to convince the officers that everything was okay, somehow. Or maybe even that I was in the wrong.”

Olive frowned. “
How
did you know that? I mean, who is this woman? What does she want from you? From
us
?”

Although Olive had given her the perfect opening to delve into Erato’s dubious backstory, Kate still felt exceedingly silly. “I guess I should start at the beginning?”

Olive was clearly impatient. “Where did you meet her? Did your publisher hook you two up?”

“No, she just…showed up one day. On my doorstep, literally—with groceries.”

“And you just invited her in? A complete stranger?” Olive tilted her head, clearly skeptical about her decision-making. “Because of the groceries or her tits?”

Blushing, Kate said, “I didn’t exactly
invite
her in.” Though she knew she deserved a firm chiding, she still wanted to defend herself in response to Olive’s judgmental tone. For a woman who’d just been abducted in broad daylight, she had a lot of nerve criticizing other people’s efforts to escape Erato’s otherworldly influence. “She just sort of
came
in. And she said…” Here was the part that would make them both sound like lunatics. Resolved to get it over with quickly, Kate mumbled, “She said she was my muse.”

When Olive didn’t respond right away, Kate assumed she hadn’t heard what she’d said—which was probably for the best. But then Olive confirmed her crystal-clear understanding. “So she wasn’t fucking with me at the bar? When she said she was flattered I’d heard of her, after I recognized her name from Greek mythology?” Kate shook her head, and Olive said, “She thinks she’s actually a real
muse
.”

“Yes.”

Olive blinked. “And you…
believed
her?”

Kate shook her head, then shrugged. “Let’s just say I was skeptical. But…I don’t know. She was so beautiful and charismatic, and she almost immediately propositioned me with hot, anonymous sex, which definitely clouded my judgment—”

“You let a strange woman talk her way into your apartment, where you then allowed her to bed you. Got it.”

Kate fell silent, hating the way Olive could make her feel so small with just a few words. She already felt stupid about allowing Erato into her life. She didn’t need agreement from a woman she could still so easily love. “It sounds ridiculous, I know. While I definitely wasn’t buying the muse story, I
was
extremely lonely. So yeah, I did something impulsive. She said that ‘making love’ would help get my creative juices flowing, and after almost two years of celibacy, I thought she might be right. It was insane, and out of character, and I still can’t believe I went through with it, but yeah, I took her up to my bedroom and we slept together. Later that night she asked me to tell her the first sexual fantasy of mine that came to mind, and I said a threesome, and then all of a sudden she’s got me at this club—”

“Where you met me.” Olive’s jaw tightened. “So that story about Erato being your editor, or your writing coach, or whatever…that was bullshit. You’d only just met her that same day. She was calling herself a Greek-fucking-muse, but you were okay with getting me sexually involved with a mentally ill person, because she told you it would help your writing.”

“I don’t think she’s actually
dangerous,
” Kate said weakly.

“You didn’t see her in that parking garage.” Rather than belabor the point, Olive exhaled. Then she scrubbed her face with her hands. “Look…I’m sorry.”

Kate shook her head. “You have no reason to be. You’re the innocent party here.”

“That’s the thing.” Olive looked around the office for the first time, as though finally taking notice of their surroundings. “I have a feeling you are, too—an innocent party. I mean, look, accepting Erato’s sudden presence in your life was clearly a lapse in judgment. But then again, it’s not like I didn’t sleep with someone I’d just met that very same day, so…” She looked suddenly exhausted as she shuffled over to the futon across from Kate’s desk and sank down to sit on its edge. “Two someones, actually, including a woman with an unusual name who gave me kind of a weird vibe.” She shot Kate an embarrassed, begrudging almost-smile. “Yet I ignored that vibe because she was really very sexy, and I was horny, and I’d sworn to myself that I was going to check at least one item off my stupid bucket list—but most importantly, because I
really
wanted to fuck her friend. Which is all a long-winded way to say I’m sorry for taking out my anger at Erato on you, because I’d be a hypocrite not to acknowledge that sometimes desire can override good judgment.”

Despite the awfulness of the situation and her lingering uncertainty that Olive could ever
truly
forgive her for bringing Erato into her life, Kate’s heart soared. But it wasn’t as though she was free from blame. “I appreciate you saying so, but it
was
selfish for me to involve you in any of this. The mutual decision-making of that first night aside, I chose to pursue you after we ran into each other at the farmers’ market that day, even though I knew I had this major complication in my life. Erato warned me from the beginning that I didn’t have time to date while I was finishing the book, and
definitely
not to fall in love—”