When I'm With You: Second Chance Romance Read online

  “That pretty much sums it up,” he said as he grabbed hold of my hand. “You’ll be okay. I was talking to Elena today and she asked about you. She said that there’s a spousal support group over at the medical center on Sunset Blvd. They meet every Friday night at eight o’clock. I think you should go.”

  “You want me to go to a support group?” I asked with a shocked tone.

  “Yeah. I think you need to. Humor me. Go one time and if you don’t like it, then don’t ever go back. But at least you can say you went.”

  “You’re crazy. I’m not going to a spousal support group and listening to a bunch of old people talk about how they were married for fifty plus years.”

  Keaton sat there and kept slowly shaking his head. “I love you, but you’re really stupid sometimes. People are trying to help you, Paisley.”

  “What’s going on out here?” my dad asked as he sat down on the other side of me, took the cigarette from my hand, and put it out.

  “I thought you and Elena were taking a break?” I said as I looked at Keaton.

  “We are, but we still talk.”

  I rolled my eyes as my dad put his arm around me and Keaton got up and walked away.

  “What’s going on, baby?”

  “Nothing, Dad.”

  “How’s Dear Paisley doing?”

  “The column is doing great. Better than everyone expected.”

  “That’s good to hear, but I meant the person.” He smiled.

  “I’m—”

  “Not doing well. I already know that, and I saw the look on your face when Piper and Charlotte shared their news.”

  I sighed as I laid my head on his shoulder. “I’m really happy for both of them and, believe me, this family needs some good news and something else to focus on besides me.”

  “You, my darling daughter, are so right. I heard Keaton say something about a support group. I think you should go.”

  “Nah. I’m good, Dad.”

  He softly kissed the side of my head. “You’re not fooling anyone but yourself, sweetheart. Now let’s go inside; it’s time for dessert.”

  He got up and went back inside while I stayed back for a moment. My sisters came out and Charlotte handed me a piece of apple pie.

  “Here, I made this, and I told Mom that this year, you weren’t eating the pumpkin pie.”

  I smiled as I took it from her. “Thank you.”

  They both took a seat next to me and put their arms around me. “You okay with everything going on today?” Piper asked.

  “Yeah. I’m okay and I’m so happy for the both of you. I really am.”

  I left my parents’ house that night, went home to Romeo, and made a cup of tea. We snuggled in bed as I opened my laptop and stared at the pictures of him.

  Chapter 6

  Ben

  Last day of my three-day shift. Last night was brutal with the apartment building fire, but we got it under control and there were no casualties. It was my turn to cook dinner tonight, so I decided to make everyone burgers. Shana, one of the only two women on the squad, helped me out by cutting up the tomatoes and onions. She was a good firefighter and she was one of the guys. I mean that in a literal way. Her girlfriend, Kylie, was an ER Nurse over at Cedars Sinai Hospital. They met one night after Shana got hurt in a fire.

  “Thanks for cutting that stuff up,” I said as I walked in from outside with the burgers.

  “No problem, Ben. You know I like to help out any way I can. Hey, Kylie’s got this friend that I think you should meet.”

  I sighed. “I don’t think so, Shana. I’m not ready to start dating or anything.”

  “I don’t blame you. I told Kylie that I would ask. She’s pretty geeked up about fixing you up with someone.”

  “Tell Kylie that I appreciate the thought, but I’m not interested.”

  We gathered around the table and ate dinner until the fire alarm sounded and we were off to fight another fire.

  I slept for ten hours straight and the only thing I remembered was dreaming about Amy. My eyes flew open and I could swear I smelled her perfume lingering in the air. I climbed out of bed and splashed my face with cold water. My phone started beeping with a text message from my mom.

  “Meet us at Cleo at eight o’clock for Olivia’s birthday. It was a last-minute change in plans. Sorry for the short notice. See you soon.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  I shook my head because we were supposed to be celebrating her birthday this weekend. It was already six o’clock when I looked at the time on my phone. Shit. I didn’t have a gift for her. Quickly, I jumped in the shower and got ready so I could leave earlier and stop at the florist to pick up some flowers on my way to the restaurant.

  “There you are. You’re late,” my mom said as she hugged me.

  “Sorry, but traffic was pretty bad, and I had to make a stop. Happy birthday, Olivia.” I smiled as I kissed her cheek and handed her the flowers.

  “They’re beautiful, Ben. Thank you.”

  Olivia was a fourth-grade teacher and Finn taught high school. They had been dating for a little over a year. They met when they both had to take a class for their master’s degrees. He told me that he was planning to propose to her on her birthday, which was this Saturday. As I glanced over at her hand, I didn’t see the ring, so he still must be waiting until then.

  “How are you, son?” my dad asked.

  “I’m fine, Dad.”

  “How’s the good old fire station doing?”

  “It’s doing great.”

  My father retired from the fire station two years ago after suffering from a heart attack and undergoing bypass surgery. It was then he realized that he needed to make a life change and he did. He retired, started eating right and exercised.

  “What are you doing tomorrow night?” Finn asked.

  “I have plans. Why?”

  “I was hoping that you would come with me and Olivia to a wine tasting party over at Vitello’s.”

  “Thanks for the invite, bro, but maybe next time.”

  My family didn’t know where I went on Friday nights. They didn’t need to know. That bar was my place of escape, even if it only was for a couple of hours.

  “Hi, Damian,” I said as I walked in.

  “Evening, Ben. How was your week?”

  “Long. Very long.”

  He set my usual bottle of beer in front of me, and when I went to take a drink, that man from last week sat down next to me.

  “Long time no see, pal. I can’t believe how fast the week went by.”

  “I don’t think I caught your name last week,” I said.

  “Oh, sorry. I’m David.”

  “Nice to meet you, David. I’m Ben.”

  “Likewise.”

  “I really couldn’t stop thinking about those fish and chips you were eating last week, so I decided I had to come back and order some.”

  “You’ll be happy you did.” I smiled.

  We got to talking for quite a while. We ate our fish and chips, drank a beer, and then I told him about Amy. He sort of asked after he overheard Damian mention her.

  “I’m really sorry to hear that. I really don’t know what to say, bud.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Have you talked to someone? Like a therapist?”

  “No. That really isn’t my thing.”

  “You know that medical building down the street?”

  “Yeah,” I replied.

  “They have a spousal support group every Friday night at eight o’clock.”

  I looked at him in confusion. “How do you know that?”

  “A co-worker of mine mentioned it. He takes his mother. Maybe you should check it out.”

  “Nah. Who wants to sit in a room and listen to other people talk about their loved ones? That’s way too depressing. Especially when you’re dealing with your own grief.”

  “See, that’s the point. You sit and listen and discover that you’re not alone and that others are going t
hrough the same thing. They’re the only ones who understand your pain and grief and they won’t be the ones to tell you to do the things you don’t want to.”

  What David said made a lot of sense.

  “If anything, just go sit in the back and listen.”

  Damian cashed me out and I held out my hand to David. “It was nice to meet you, David.”

  “Likewise, Ben. Have a good night.”

  I walked out and climbed into my truck. As I pulled out of the parking lot and was stopped at a red light, I looked to my right and saw the medical building David was talking about. A million reasons entered my mind as to why I shouldn’t go, but like he said, I could just sit and listen. I looked at the clock on my dash. It was seven fifty-five. “Ah, what the hell,” I said as I pulled in and parked.

  Chapter 7

  Paisley

  Thank God it was Friday. I stepped into my office at the LA Times, and immediately Kenny called me into his.

  “Paisley, I need to see you, please.”

  “What’s up, Kenny?” I asked as he motioned for me to have a seat.

  “Dear Paisley is ranking high on the charts. People like what you have to say because you’re young. You’re giving the older generation something new. I want to expand Dear Paisley.”

  “What do you mean ‘expand’?”

  “Dear Paisley is about love and relationships, but not sex. We’ve been getting a shitload of questions from readers who want to ask questions about sex, but it doesn’t fit into the column correctly. So here’s what I want to do. I want you to write two columns: Dear Paisley on love and relationships and Dear Paisley; How about sex.” He grinned.

  I sat there, cocking my head at him and narrowing my eyes. “I’m not a doctor.”

  “You don’t have to be!” He chuckled. “We won’t put any questions through that involve medical issues. This column will be pure fun about sex and the things readers want to know.”

  “Again, I’m not a doctor.”

  “Paisley, open your mind. Step outside the box. Let sex in! You can do it. Look at what you’ve done for Dear Paisley. I’ll tell you what: let’s try it for a month. If it’s not going well or it’s too much for you, then we’ll cut it out. Come on, Paisley; it’ll be fun!” he said as he got up from his chair and put his arm around me.

  “I’ll do it on one condition.”

  “What’s your condition?”

  “I get to work out of my home more.”

  “Okay, but you already pretty much do that.”

  I smiled as I left his office. A sex column, I thought as I shook my head. This could kill my career.

  After I left work, I met Keaton and Charlotte over at The Park, a restaurant on Sunset Blvd., for dinner. Being a Friday night, there was nowhere to park in the parking lot or on the street, so I had to park in the medical building lot and walk. It was a last-minute thing and I really didn’t want to go but I knew if I didn’t, I’d hear about it tomorrow, since I was going to be at my parents’ house for Halloween.

  “Hey, sis,” Keaton said as I sat down next to him in the booth.

  Charlotte glared at me as she sipped her water. “I called you two days ago, and you didn’t call me back.”

  “I know and I’m sorry. I had to work extra hard on my column to meet the deadline because I wasn’t feeling well a few days ago.”

  “You weren’t feeling well because you’re depressed, sis,” she replied. “Depression makes you sick.”

  “I’m not depressed,” I said as I shook my head. “I may still be sad, but I’m not depressed.”

  “You’re depressed,” they both said in unison.

  I rolled my eyes and changed the subject as fast as I could. “Kenny called me into his office today and told me that they are expanding Dear Paisley. Apparently, I’m going to talk about sex now.”

  “Ew, I’m not reading that,” Keaton said.

  “That’s wonderful, Paisley. So now you’ll have two columns?”

  “Yes. One for love and relationships and the other for strictly sex. I’m not too sure it’s going to work out.”

  “You’ll be fine, and you’ll do great,” Charlotte said as she grabbed my hand from across the table.

  When we were finished eating, I asked Keaton to drive me to my car.

  “Where did you park?”

  “The medical center.”

  He drove me to my car and looked at his watch. “It’s seven forty-five. That support group starts in fifteen minutes. I think you should go. You’re already here.”

  “Goodbye. Keaton.” I smiled as I closed the door and climbed into my car.

  He drove off and I sat there, clutching the steering wheel and looking at the medical building. Maybe if I go one time, I can say I did, and he’ll back the hell off. I grabbed my purse and with uncertainty, I walked inside.

  The sign said the meeting was in room L2. Once I found my way, I nervously took a seat in the fourth row of chairs. There were only eleven men and women in the room and all of them had to be over fifty. I felt out of place and uncomfortable and debated whether or not to leave. I did step in the room, and I sat down in the chair, so I could say that I was there, right? An older lady walked in and looked at me.

  “Are you in the right room, dear? This is for people who have lost their spouses.”

  I simply smiled and nodded my head. “Yes, I’m in the right room.”

  She leaned over and placed her hand on mine. “I’m so sorry, dear.” And then she walked away and took a seat next to another older lady. Okay, I’m outta here, I thought as I grabbed my purse. When I went to get up, a younger man sat down in my row, one seat over. He looked at me and I looked at him. We gave each other a small smile and the counselor stood at the podium and began to speak. Shit. I couldn’t walk out now.

  “Good evening, everyone. I see we have two new people in our group today. My name is Jessica Roth and I’m here to help you deal with your loss and grief. In fact, we’re all here to help. Everybody in this room has something in common. You’ve lost a spouse. This group is here to provide you with a safe forum where you can share your feelings and your pain. Each and every one of you in this room has had the same experience and has gone through the same emotions. Let’s begin by welcoming our two new survivors to the group.

  “The woman in the back row.” She smiled. “Can you please come up and introduce yourself.”

  “Who, me?” I pointed at myself.

  “It’s okay. We’re all here for you.”

  “No, no. It’s fine. I’m just here to observe.”

  “Nonsense,” she said as she walked towards me and pulled me from my seat.

  I looked over at the hot young guy sitting one chair down from me and he had a terrified look on his face. I stood up at the podium and clutched the sides tightly.

  “Why don’t you tell us your name and how long you’ve been widowed,” Jessica said.

  I gulped as I gave a small wave. “Hi. My name is Paisley Logan and it’s been almost a year since my husband passed,” I said with a tear in my eye.

  Keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it together.

  “How long were you married? You look awful young,” an older woman asked.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’m going to kill Keaton and his bright ideas.

  “My husband passed away on our one-year wedding anniversary. He died of a massive heart attack while we were out jogging together.” There. They wanted to know, so I just let it out.

  I heard gasps. “Welcome, Paisley,” Jessica said with sympathy as she put her arm around me.

  “Welcome, Paisley,” everyone in the room followed.

  I walked back to my seat. The hot guy sitting one chair down from me wouldn’t stop staring. He was young. I would say maybe a year or two older than me. Jessica called him up and he tried to say no. I looked over at him.

  “If I had to do it, then so do you. Good luck.” I smiled.

  He smiled back as he got up from his seat and went up
to the podium.

  “My name is Ben Preston and my wife and I had been married for five years before cancer took her away from me almost a year ago.”

  Again, I heard gasps and I saw people shaking their heads. Everyone welcomed him to the group and he went back to his seat. As soon as he sat down, we both looked at each other.

  “I’m sorry about your husband,” he said nervously.

  “I’m sorry about your wife,” I replied.

  I couldn’t help but to sneak little glances at Ben. He was about two inches over six feet with a muscular build. He had to work out; there was no doubt about it, looking at his well-defined arms. He wore his light brown hair short on the sides with just a little bit of a spikey wave on top. His eyes were what caught my attention the minute he looked over at me; they were the color of the Pacific Ocean and they were absolutely beautiful. But the one thing that made him stand out was the fact that he also lost someone at such a young age.

  As I sat in my chair and listened to the men and women talk one at a time about their losses, their grief, and their inability to cope at times, I couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of comfort for the first time since he died. Jessica continued to talk and then ended the meeting by asking us to partner up with the person sitting next to us and talk.

  “I want everyone to look at the person sitting next to you and that will be your support partner for the week. Go have coffee. Talk. Share. I promise you’ll feel better.”

  I looked over and Ben was staring at me. “I guess that means we’re partners,” he said.

  Suddenly, I became very nervous. My heartbeat picked up a rapid pace and I started to sweat. What did he mean “we’re partners”? I wasn’t about to be partners with anyone, especially him.

  “Sorry, but I didn’t—”

  “Come here to be partnered up with anyone. Me neither. Judging by where you’re sitting, you came here out of curiosity. You wanted to sit in the back and with the hopes that no one would notice you. You wanted to see for yourself if other people who have experienced what you have, felt the same emotions that you do and are distraught like you are. You wanted to maybe, just maybe for a moment, feel like you’re not alone.”