<br><br><center>*In considering what he was not, she overlooked what he was,
and forgot the defective can be more than the entire.*
—Thomas Hardy</center>
<br><br><center></center>
<br><br> Reese is convinced I’m a player and nothing I can do can change her mind.
She suffers from what the French call l’dée fixe—an almost pathological belief that I’m a skirt chaser and womanizer.
It’s ironic since it’s a marketing ploy she invented to stir interest in me and my books.
Apparently the woman not only believes her own press but willingly believes the worst about me.
<br><br> The atmosphere between us is frosty since I tried confronting her this afternoon after a book signing. That was a mistake.
I suppose I’ll have to endure the celeb party that’s scheduled to launch my latest book—but after that’s done, I think I might finally be *done* with her.
I can’t go on aching for a relationship when she can’t even see how hopelessly I’m in love with her.
It’s just too painful to endure.
<br><br> The cocktail party’s in full swing by the time we arrive.
I spot Meredith Baxter, surrounded by a group of admirers. Meredith’s in her fifties, but still gorgeous and elegant. We’ve become friends and I just love talking to her.
As soon as she spots me she breaks away from her group and gives me a warm hug.
<br><br> “Tanner,” she smiles, “I was hoping you’d be here. I needed to talk to at least one person who’s real.”
Reese rolls her eyes, grabs a glass of champagne and downs it—then, reaches for another.
Meredith is beaming, and doing what she usually does—gently massaging my shoulders, getting the knots out.
<br><br> “Poor boy…you are really stressed—what has your publisher been doing to you lately?”
Before I can answer, Reese steps in. “He’s been working Meredith—some of us still have to do that, you know.”
Then, she fixes me with her get-down-to-business glare.
I get the drift. “Uh, I better start circulating—I’ll catch up with you later, Mer.”
Meredith smiles compassionately. Whenever she does that, I feel caressed.
<br><br> I’m worried though about leaving her alone with Reese, so I don’t go far—I stay out of view, but within earshot, so I can monitor things.
“That poor boy, I never saw a man so haunted.”
“Yeah, he’s haunted all right—needing to expiate past sins. Don’t make him into a choirboy, Meredith.”
She takes another gulp of champagne.
<br><br> “Oh, I know Tanner’s shortcomings, Reese—but he’s still a good man.”
Reese’s eyes flash and I groan inside. She’s been building to this all day and now Meredith is going to reap her wrath.
I want to intervene and smooth things out but I don’t have any coping juice left.
If things go south I’ll probably just run—that's what I usually do. Nothing will change the way Reese sees me so why bother trying to work things out?
<br><br><center>© 2018, John J Geddes. All rights reserved</center>
<br><br><center>[Photo]( https://theartofcharm-theartofcharminc.netdna-ssl.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/Fotolia_50529611.jpg )</center>
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