Meddling in Manhattan by Kirsten Osbourne Read Free Book Online Page A

want.  All of the furniture is antique, and they use real glass dishes.  They do their best to keep up the illusion of being in the 1870s.  I love it there."
    "We fly out tomorrow?"
    "Yeah, we fly out in the morning, and we will come back a week from tomorrow.  Then you go back to work Monday?" he asked, wondering if he would go nuts not writing for that long.  He could dictate into his phone if he just had to, and he could also write with pen and paper if he got really desperate.  He didn't want her to think that his job would always come first.
    "Yeah.  My assistant manager will cover everything until then, but I'm going to be on call.  I don't think she'll bother us unless it's life or death, though."  She studied him for a moment as she cuddled into his side on the couch.  "I work sixty hour weeks, and then come home and work some more.  Is that going to bother you?"
    He wanted to jump for joy.  She was just as much of a workaholic as he was.  Lachele did know what she was doing.  "That's fine.  I really work at least that much, so I'm not going to get jealous of your work."  He just hoped she wouldn't get jealous of his.
    She wondered absently if he'd cook since he'd be home alone all day, but she didn't ask.  It just made sense that he'd put dinner on.  "Good.  It was the one thing I was worried about."
    "Honestly, I was worried about the same thing with the kind of hours I keep.   I don't need a wife who gets angry every time I sit down to work."
    "Do you ever have problems with writer's block?" she asked.
    "I don't even believe it exists.  Writing is five percent making up stories and ninety-five percent putting your butt in the chair and doing the work.  I've met so many people over the years who call themselves writers because they come up with stories and write a chapter or two.  That's not writing.  Writing is putting in the hours to tell the entire story beginning to end."  He sighed.  "And I'm on my soap box again.  Tell me to shut up, would you?"
    She laughed.  "I have better ways to shut you up."  She knelt on the couch beside him and cupped his face in her hands as he'd done to her.  She kissed him softly, her tongue stroking into his mouth. 
    After a moment she pulled away, resting her forehead against his.  "Effective?" she asked.
    "Oh, very effective.  Why, I'd let you use those methods all day..."
     
    *****
     
    They left for the airport early the next morning, and Addie was extremely excited to see the healing waters.  He hadn't told her the real name of the place, because he said he couldn't pronounce it.  It was a French name.  She was sure she'd see it on a sign somewhere. 
    They'd gone to the shore a lot growing up, but she'd never been as far west as South Dakota.  She wondered if they'd have a chance to see Mount Rushmore or any of the touristy places in South Dakota while they were there.
    At the airport, they waited their turn, and she was surprised to find out he'd booked first class seats for them.  She was beginning to wonder about his finances.  Was it possible that he had an inheritance from somewhere?  How was he able to afford all the extravagances?  She hoped he hadn't over extended himself with their honeymoon to impress her.
    He let her have the window seat on the plane, and she was excited. She'd never flown, and it was fun watching the clouds go by.  They had a connecting flight in Salt Lake City.  By the time they landed in Rapid City it was late afternoon.  Addie was surprised at the size of the airport in Rapid City.  Even the airport in Salt Lake City had seemed tiny in comparison to JFK.  He rented a car as if he flew all the time.  She frowned watching him.  He certainly didn't act like a struggling writer.
    On the drive to the resort, she watched out the window, marveling at how flat everything was.  "It's like another world.  I have a hard time believing we're in the same country."
    He laughed softly.  "I feel the same way