Maybe Tonight Read online

  To the staff at the Hotel Kong Arthur in Copenhagen, the idea for Maybe Baby came to me while sitting in the hotel courtyard one summer evening. It was the perfect locale for the start of Laney and Mads’s love affair. Thanks for making every stay so comfortable and so inspiring. And yes, you do serve the world’s best gin & tonics. Tord swears by them.

  To Christina Plöen, thank you so much for being such a wonderful friend, for our evening chats at Tegnérs Gömstället and now Knut, and for inviting Tord and me to Yngsjö every year. Whenever I stay there, I end up feeling so inspired—it must be the great company and that wonderful view.

  To the fantastic team at Black Firefly Production, I think it was serendipity that brought us together. There I was trying to figure out just how the heck I was going to find beta readers, a cover designer, an editor, a proofreader and someone who could whip the formatting into shape and then Facebook made sure our paths crossed. You made the entire process so easy and the help you’ve given me has been absolutely amazing.

  And finally, to my mom, Barbara Golden, who will probably shake her head when she reads this book and wonder why her middle child writes about women doing naughty things. I know it’s not really your type of book, Mom, but you were the one who kept encouraging me even when you wished I was doing something more practical. Love you!

  Maybe Tomorrow Sneak Peek

  Take a sneak peek at Maybe Tomorrow, the next book in the Maybe Baby series!

  EXCERPT OF MAYBE TOMORROW

  It ended just as quickly as it began.

  He came home and said he didn’t love me anymore, didn’t think we had any future, not together. And as the words rushed out of his mouth, I stood very still, my arms folded across my chest, and waited for the truth to finally come.

  I knew my lips had pulled into a thin, grim line. I was biting in the words I wanted to spit out at him. “Who have you fucked this time?” or “Can’t you keep your cock in your pants?” but I held back and focused on the splotch of red wine on his shirt and told myself this was okay. I didn’t need him to feel complete. I don’t think I’d ever felt complete with him. He was just a boy pretending to be a man. A beautiful boy, but a boy all the same.

  “Say something, Eddy.” Andreas was nervous. He kept standing, pacing, and then throwing himself back into the same armchair. Under the tan his cheeks and neck burned red.

  “What exactly do you want me to say?”

  “You must have something you want to say. I just told you I don’t love you anymore.”

  “Fine, I think we should sell the apartment.”

  “What?”

  “Actually, it was mostly my money that went into this apartment,” I surmised. “My down payment of…half a million kronor was it? I was the one who sold her apartment so we could move in together.”

  “You want to talk money?”

  “Well, we’re splitting up, aren’t we?” I sank into the armchair opposite his and crossed my legs. I kept my voice even and light. “Since you don’t love me and we have no future, why should we still share this apartment?”

  “We bought it together-”

  “How much money did you bring to the table?”

  Andreas licked his lips and shrugged. He mumbled an “I don’t know” but wouldn’t make eye contact with me. We both knew the truth.

  “Well, I hope your new girlfriend has a place you can move into.”

  “What makes you think there is someone else?”

  “With you, there’s always someone else. I recognize the pattern, sweetie.”

  It never changed with him. We’d had a good run

  these last few months but I’d sensed he would get restless again. And this time I wasn’t ready to forgive and forget.

  “Eddy, we can’t just…”

  “Yes, actually, we can. You remember the last time you cheated on me? You said you would move out if it happened again.”

  “But, Eddy, be realistic.”

  “I am being realistic. And that’s exactly what I want you to do. Move. And we’ll sell this place. You put thirty percent into it, and that’s exactly what you’ll get.”

  He shook his head and then launched out of the chair and stormed out of the room.

  The knot in my stomach unraveled slowly. But the bitter taste of another failed relationship…that took even longer to disappear.

  When he left, the apartment seemed to breathe out a long sigh of relief, as if it had been waiting for this very moment. In a few days it would be Midsummer and the evening sky was still full of light.

  I wandered through every room, making sure he’d taken everything that was his. I didn’t want to wake to another day of being reminded that Andreas and I had shared this apartment.

  I kept telling myself I was okay with this, and I was. I didn’t want to have to grin and bear it again. But there was that nagging little voice that I could just barely hear over the super positive “I am a strong, independent woman” mantra on repeat in my mind–that naggy, snarky little bitch who reveled in reminding me, “This is the third time you’re the one left alone.”

  “Shut up, bitch..” I muttered.

  “Sorry?”

  I’d forgotten about the real estate agent, who was also going from room to room casting an eye on all the renovations we’d done as she calculated the apartment’s market value. She flashed a tight little smile at me. It was almost as tight as the skirt and blouse she wore.

  “I’m just talking to myself,” I assured her and then reached for my vibrating iPhone.

  Another call from Andreas. I pressed reject and set my phone back on the windowsill.

  “Well, your apartment will definitely be a hot commodity,” she said. “An apartment this size and in this neighborhood…it’ll fetch a pretty penny.”

  I nodded. I already knew this. It was one of the reasons I’d convinced Andreas that we should move to this part of Kungsholmen. From the living room and dining room, there was a perfect view of Norr Mälarstrand and the glittering waters of Lake Mälaren. We had a balcony that stretched the entire length of the apartment and, with all of the plants and flowers in bloom it would look inviting enough that even the most jaded Stockholmer would want to live here.

  “How much do you think it’s worth?”

  “We’re looking at…eight million kronor at least, and that’s before the bidding would start.”

  “So we should start with an asking price of eight million?”

  “At least.” Her blonde head bobbed up and down excitedly. “Five rooms…a king’s balcony, two walking closets…”

  “Walk-in closets,” I corrected.

  “Sorry?”

  “They’re not called walking closets. The closets don’t have legs. They can’t go anywhere.”

  She clutched her iPad and barked out a nervous laugh. “Of course! Ha-ha! Whoever heard of a closet with feet!”

  I put her out of her misery. “When can we say it’s on the market?”

  “We can list it starting on Monday. Is that too soon?”

  “Couldn’t we make it sooner?”

  “I’m sorry, but that’s as soon as we can do it.”

  “Fine,” I conceded. “Monday it is. And…if we get a good enough bid so that I can avoid any open house, that’s fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. I want to sell this as quickly as possible.”

  “What will you do then?”

  Behind her was a framed vintage print of the Empire State Building. Andreas had hated it but it was the one image in the apartment that reminded me of home. And right now, I wished I was in the gritty, muggy, crowded embrace of home.

  I smiled at Petra the perky real estate agent. “I’m moving back to New York.”

  I signed the paperwork and Petra congratulated me on making the right choice of her real estate agency before she finally left.

  I walked out onto the balcony and breathed in the lavender-scented air before any of the exhaust of passing cars drifted
up to me. It was one of the perks of living on the top floor of the building. I would miss this view. I would miss this apartment but I couldn’t stay here. It was too big for one person and, even if I met someone else, I didn’t want them to walk into a place that had been the scene of so many arguments, of so much disappointment. It would surely taint any attempts I might make at starting over.

  But New York. I could move back. There was nothing holding me in Stockholm anymore. Andreas and I had dissolved our business partnership as swiftly as we’d ended our relationship. I shivered and pulled my sweater closer around me. If Laney were still here, I would have considered staying. But she was in Copenhagen now, and she was so blissfully happy it was enough to make your teeth ring. I would have been super jealous if I didn’t love her so much.