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Prologue

Ruby

New York, New York. If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere. And what if I don’t want to make it here? And what exactly is it, anyway? What, exactly, am I supposed to make?

Aiden was sprawled out on the couch with his face just under the air conditioner, still fanning himself with a book.

‘Stop being melodramatic. It’s not that hot,’ I wanted to say to him. But I knew that would just get us into an argument, so I bit my tongue. I felt like any little thing I said that day could spark an argument and that wasn’t because of the heatwave. It was because of… well, because of everything!

Only a few hours earlier, Greta, my boss—the coolest boss anyone could ever hope to have—had told me that she understood my frustrations, that it was okay if I wanted out. I could take an extended leave from the agency and return home to Wyoming. No hard feelings.

I suppose that should have been good news. I had finally made a decision to leave New York after months of unhappiness. And my boss was understanding. She even said that my idea to shoot a calendar of sexy cowboys was a good one, and when it was finished, she and the agency would help me launch it. She needed more models, and rugged rural men would be a welcome change from the ‘pretty boy city slickers’ her roster was filled with—her words, not mine.

“Go back to Wyoming,” she’d said. “But let’s not think of it as you leaving for good. More like you’re on a scouting mission for the agency. Go find some sexy rugged cowboys, a stable of ranchers, and a few mountain men, too, for good measure.”

I’d thanked her but said that I had no plans to come back to New York.

“Ruby, I’m not asking you to make plans,” she’d said. “In fact, I’m suggesting you do quite the opposite. We’ll stay in touch.”

But, despite the prospect of finally getting out of this cramped, noisy city and despite the encouragement of my boss, it wasn’t good news. The truth was I had made a mistake coming to New York. I had made a mistake moving in with Aiden. And, despite my wish to go back to Wyoming, I knew when I got there that some of my friends and family—especially my family—would give me the ‘told you so’ or ‘I knew you weren’t cut out for the big city.’

“I messed up,” said Aiden.

I turned from the window to look at him. “Are you talking to me?”

“Of course I’m talking to you. I’m not talking to myself, that would be crazy. Do you think I’m crazy, Ruby?”

I considered the question, perhaps more seriously than he had intended. Finally, I chose to ignore it. “How did you mess up?”

“You remember when I was so proud of myself, finally found a home for Peeps the three-legged dog?”

I remembered him being proud of himself. I couldn’t, though, remember any three-legged dog. “Yes,” I said.

“Well, I interviewed the prospective family, had them fill out the questionnaire. Everything checked out, so this morning I had Kurt deliver Peeps to his new family.”

“And you had him deliver to the wrong family?”

“No, Peeps went to the family that asked for him. But the family I interviewed, that was for a completely different dog. Still a beagle, but not Peeps.”

“So where’s the problem?”

“The problem is that I sent Peeps to a family that hadn’t been vetted yet. I messed up.”

I smiled and shrugged. “I’m sure Peeps will be fine.”

“I had a simple job to do and I failed.” He shook his head. “Do you still love me, anyway?”

I furrowed my brow. That was unexpected. “Huh?”

“I’m a failure, but you still love me, don’t you?” He pulled himself off the couch and smacked his head on the air conditioner. “Ow!”

That looked quite painful. I winced. “Aiden, making a mistake doesn’t make you a failure.”

He wasn’t listening. He was too busy rubbing his head, which would surely have a nasty bump on it shortly.

I turned back to the window and looked at the slow-moving traffic passing down below. “Aiden, do you want to come to Wyoming with me?”

I waited a moment for him to answer. When he didn’t, I turned back to him. He was still rubbing his head. He had a look of pain on his face which made him look even sexier than usual. I made a mental note to ask myself later what that thought could mean about me.

“Aiden.”

He stopped rubbing his head and looked up. “Huh?”

“I said, do you want to go to Wyoming with me?” He looked at me like I had lost my mind. “Of course not. Why would I want to go to Wyoming?”

I took in a deep breath. This conversation was starting out exactly like I had feared, exactly like the conversation I’d had with Lincoln before moving to New York. He, too, had asked me if I loved him. And he, too, had acted like I was crazy for suggesting we go to another State together.


Tags: Nicole Casey Seven Ways to Sin Fantasy