Who in the heck is Nick Berlin?

Long before Nick Berlin became the successful CEO of the Central Coast Real Estate Trust in my contemporary romance, MINT CONDITION, he was a part of my life, streaming through the viaducts of my dreams in silk underwear.

It all started with a phone call. Like in the Whoopee Goldberg film, Jumping Jack Flash, the phone would ring and someone would be looking for Nick Berlin.

“I’m sorry, you have the wrong number.”

“Are you sure?” We’d check the number, which I’d just gotten after moving to a new city in the 805.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Days stretched to months as I systematically informed dozens (maybe hundreds) of people who I imagined were Nick’s friends, family, bill collectors, ex-girlfriends, ex-wives, current wives, employers, ex-employers, old buddies from high school, the FBI, the IRS, the CIA, the Rotary Club, the gun club, his car insurer, his home insurer, and his current girl friend’s hairdresser’s mother who wanted him to paint her fiancé’s house.

I had to assume Nick was a handsome rake by the number of calls I got from women looking for him. If the phone rang late at night, inevitably, I’d get a hang up.

My husband would ask “Who was that?”

“Someone for Nick,” I’d answer.

It became a running joke in the family, especially around Valentine’s Day.

After a while, I stopped giving the polite “wrong number” line and started asking questions of my own.

“Nick? I don’t know. I haven’t seen him either. Where do you think he’s gone? Is he in trouble? Oh my god, he’s missing? That’s horrible…”

The fifth year, after fielding thousands of calls, many of which came in the middle of the night from tearful, desperate women, I started to mess with him.

“Is he married? Wow. That’s news to me…He told me he’d divorced two years ago…”

“As far as I know, he’s still in Costa Rica…”

“I haven’t’ seen him since he won the Power Ball…”

“His mother told me he was in the witness protection program…”

“God I miss him. I can’t live without him. Please, you have to help me find him…”

Ok. I admit. It wasn’t fair. Nick wasn’t there to defend himself. But honestly, what would youdo? My husband was beginning to wonder if I was having an affair with him.

In a way, he was right. I began to conjure up scenarios where I would meet Nick in a dark corner of a restaurant somewhere out of town and see what phone number he gave. I’d find out just what was so special about him that women persisted in tracking him down.

What did he look like? Why was he so secretive, so compelling, and so mysterious?

Nick Berlin began to take shape in my mind. He was tall, sandy-haired, successful, but not so much that it ruined his cavalier approach to life. A surfer, for sure. A humanitarian. A philanthropist. A patron of the arts. Women couldn’t resist the sea green of his eyes. The way he leaned in a shoulder to share an intimate glance, a touch, a heartbeat. Ummmm…

All right.  I admit.  I did do a Google search.  And Linkdin.  And Facebook.  To my dismay, there were hundreds of Nick Berlins. Nick had cloned himself and planted his clones all across the country.  The world even. He was a doctor.  He was an unemployed veterinarian’s assistant.  A Hells Angel.  A hairdresser.  A master chef?

The list went on and on.

I decided I liked my Nick the best. 

When the idea for MINT CONDITION began to take shape, there was no doubt in my mind who the hero would be. Nick now floats through Maddie Kerrigan’s dreams in silk underwear.

If you want to meet Nick Berlin, check out my latest contemporary romance, MINT CONDITION.  But be careful.  You might just fall in love.

4 thoughts on “Who in the heck is Nick Berlin?

  1. What an amazing story! Though it must have been very annoying to get all those phone calls, the seed for a character was planted. I can't believe Nick Berlin is a real person. (Though I like your version of him the best as well.) Isn't it fun when reality is the basis for fiction? Maybe some day we'll see a news story about the real Nick Berlin and know what truly happened. 🙂

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