“Yeah, sorry. I don’t normally drive it, but I took a bunch of stuff to the dump for my neighbor this morning."
"That was kind of you."
"Thanks. She's an elderly lady and lives alone. During the season it’s hard to do stuff for her, but in the off season, I mow her yard, clean her gutters, all the things her son should do for her.”
“But he doesn’t?”
“Nope,” I say as I pull out into traffic. “He’s a fifty something year old gamer and lives in the basement.”
“Oh, that’s shameful.”
“Agreed. Okay, we’re here.”
“Well, this is very close.”
“And convenient. I live about an hour away in the suburbs, so I usually stop here before I head back. Sometimes with traffic, it can be two hours before I’m home.”
After shutting the truck off, I get out and go to the passenger side, and open the door. Kelsey looks at the ground. It’s probably daunting for someone her size or for someone who isn’t used to getting in and out of a lifted rig.
“Not to be forward, but it might be easier if I lift you out.”
Kelsey nods and reaches for me. Except, it’s not a hands on the shoulders sort of thing. It’s a full arm wrap, almost as if she fears I’m going to drop her. I wouldn’t. Ever. Holding her, having her pressed to my chest like this, sends a jolt of electricity through me. I can’t help but look at her and wonder if she felt what I did. We look into each other’s eyes and her fingertips play with the hairs on the nape of my neck.
Swallowing hard, I say, “I should probably put you down,” in a low rumbly voice.
“Okay,” she whispers. I don’t do it. I don’t put her down and, instead, continue to hold her like she’s part of me now. The voice in my head tells me to kiss her, that she wants to be kissed by me. All I would have to do is pucker my lips and they’d press against hers.
“Alex! Oh my God, that’s Alex Moore.”
The moment is gone as a group of teenagers flock to us. I set Kelsey down and apologize for what’s about to happen. No one should have to experience this.
THREE
KELSEY
What do they call it when the sun shines and it’s raining?
The text message from Alex makes me smile. I know it shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. At the end of our dinner meeting—not date—he asked for my phone number, and I gave it to him with zero hesitation. A first for me. Normally, I’m standoffish about people—and men in general. Being burnt by a few bad apples has left a sour taste in my mouth, especially when it comes to dating. Not that Alex and I are dating or anything, but damn it if my heart doesn’t jump at the thought.
My eyes drift from my phone screen to my window where the sun is trying to peek through the curtains. I need to know the answer to Alex’s question, but I also want to know if there’s a reason why he’s texting me. I kick my down comforter away like a child, rush to the window and throw my curtains open as if it’s Christmas morning. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust but once they do, I marvel at the phenomenon.
Wow!
I text back.
Alex Moore
Crazy, right? It happens a lot here. It’s called a sun shower.
Consider me incredibly impressed. Thank you for letting me know.
Alex Moore
You’re welcome! What are you doing today?
Um . . . working?
Alex Moore
Well, if you need anything, please let me know.
I will, thank you!
Why is my heart beating abnormally fast over a few text messages? I sigh and head into the bathroom to shower. After my encounter with Alex, and even Myles, I’m confident I can make an offer on the football romance story. Of course, after I discuss it at our team meeting. Kit has to approve everything, and while we’re pitching our stories to her, the rest of us discuss what sort of marketing we can do to help our client. Marketing is so important whether it’s social media, book fairs, or in-store book signings. We, as publishers, need to do our part while the author does theirs.
Barrett opens the door for me as I approach, tipping his hat in greeting as he does so. “Good morning, Ms. Sloane.”
“Good morning, Barrett. What a beautiful day.”
He apprises me. “It’s raining. Again.” He points to the wet ground.
“But the sun’s shining.”
“Yes, that does make a difference. Are you walking today? Or would you like me to hail you a taxi?”
“Walking.” I hold my umbrella up for him to see, and then press the button to open it. “Have a nice day, Barrett.”
“You too, Ms. Sloane.”
Once again, I’m walking among the others heading to work or to their meetings. Most of us wear earbuds. Some are talking, albeit a bit too animatedly for my liking. A couple of people are bobbing their heads and I wonder what they’re listening to. Right now, my current listen is 80’s love songs. I don’t know what it is, but they’re my jam. And if I’m not careful, I’ll be singing and bobbing my head right along with the rest of my walking cohorts.
After swiping my badge to get through security, I stand and wait for the elevator. Kit walks toward me and smiles. “Good morning, Kelsey.”
“Good morning.” As far as bosses go, she’s pretty awesome. We met at a conference in Florida and hit it off. She sold me on this baby publisher and encouraged me to apply for a job. I didn’t at first because the idea of moving coasts wasn’t appealing, but here I am.
“Production meeting this morning. Are you ready?”
Internally, I groan. For the most part I don’t mind the meetings, until it’s my turn. I don’t mind selling new books to the team but loathe when we talk about sales numbers. Sometimes, we love a book, but something inevitably gets in the way of making it a bestseller. It’s hard to pinpoint why readers will pick up a book and why they won’t. It’s not like we can stand on a street corner asking people. Although now that I think of it, maybe we could.
“Yes, I have a pitch to present.”
“Great,” Kit says enthusiastically. “I’m excited to hear it.”
No pressure.
We get into the elevator and Kit presses the button. When we reach our floor, we greet Robin, our receptionist. At my cubicle, I leave my stuff and head into the breakroom for my much-needed coffee and to put my lunch into the refrigerator.
“Hey,” Valentine says when I step into the room. “How did it go yesterday?”
“Great. Fantastic, really. Myles was great and so was Alex.” My cheeks heat up at the mention of his name.
“What!? Girl, I need some details.”
“About what?” I shrug and pretend I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“Oh, nah. Stop hiding. Alex? What’s his last name?” Val pulls her phone out and looks at me expectedly.