Free Crazy For You by Sandra Edwards

Roxanne might be giving him
false hope.
    But he knew Roxanne wasn’t vicious or malicious. If
she said Candy really cared about him, then she believed it. And
that gave Rich hope. False hope, maybe. But nonetheless, hope.
    Roxanne continued to work on The Secret every chance
she got. She also continued to employ Frank’s help, even if he
didn’t necessarily know about it.
    In the latest motel room, the sun filtered through
the curtains and cast a thin ray of light on Roxanne. She’d been
awake for hours, while Frank had been and continued to rest
peacefully.
    How can you sleep ? She studied him. I
can’t sleep .
    “Frankie…” She shook him lightly. “Frankie, wake
up.”
    “What! What?” He moaned and covered his face with
his hands, as if it made a difference.
    “I need to talk to you.” Her voice was fragile.
    “What?” His tone was a bit more attentive now, but
still, he made no move to uncover his face.
    “We need to talk about Ben.”
    “Who?” His voice snarled out as he jumped up. Frank
didn’t have a clue who Ben was, but he better not be some guy
chasing after Roxanne.
    “You know…” She huffed out a sigh as if agitated
that he’d forgotten. “The rock star.”
    “Not them again.” Frank fell back on the bed and
covered his eyes with the base of his hands. “I can’t believe you
woke me up to ask me about some people that aren’t even real.”
    “It’s important. Indulge me just this once, okay?”
Her persuasive tone coaxed him into humoring her.
    “If I answer your question,” he said in a bargaining
way, “can we go back to sleep?”
    “You have to tell this girl who you are—before she
finds out from someone else.”
    “So I just told her.”
    “She never wants to see you again.”
    Frank sat up and cast a studious look over her, his
eyes cold and hard. “So I just committed suicide. Now, can we go
back to sleep?”
    “Frankie, that’s no good.”
    Frank dragged his fingers through his hair. “What’s
going on?” He peered at her with a glint of annoyance in his eye.
“And don’t tell me anything about hypothetical bullshit.”
    “Nothing.”
    “Bullshit.” Clearly, he didn’t buy her claim that it
was merely for curiosity’s sake. “Start talking, Roxanne.”
    “No,” she whispered. “You’ll laugh at me.”
    “I can guarantee you—” His voice was full of
resolve. “—I won’t be laughing.” Nothing she could say would make
him laugh right now. “What’s going on?”
    “Promise me you won’t laugh.”
    “Scouts honor.” He waved a couple of fingers in the
air, hoping that if he humored her it might somehow lead to sleep.
“I promise. I will not laugh at you.”
    “The reason I’ve been asking you all of these
questions is...” her voice resisted and she cleared her throat.
    Maybe — just maybe — we’re going to get
somewhere now .
    “Well…” She still hadn’t found adequate strength to
stimulate her words. She huffed, preparing to blurt out her secret.
“I’ve been writing this story. A novel.”
    Curiosity and disbelief skewed his face. “You’re
writing a book?”
    “Yeah.”
    He scanned her with a discerning look. “Let me see
it.”
    “What?” she said in a suffocated whisper. “You want
to see it?”
    “Why haven’t you told me about this before?”
Accusation fueled his tone now.
    “I was afraid you’d laugh at me.”
    “I would never laugh at you. No matter how bad it
is.” He waved dismissively. “Now, let me see it.”
    “Okay.” Giving in, she slowly made her way to the
nightstand and retrieved the loose papers from their hiding place.
“This is only a rough draft,” she said, like she was delivering her
heart on a platter.
    “I’ll keep that in mind.” He winked at her, forcing
the papers from her hands.
    She sat down on the bed and waited nervously while
he read her work. The possibility that he could think she had no
talent, horrified her.
    After reading a few pages, he looked back at