“Then I try to fill your aunt’s shoes. Do you know she listed off all the things I needed to do on ‘her shift’ and made me repeat them after her? When she tried a second time I politely reminded her that she was asking me for a favor. She shut up after that. Although I think her new hubby hung up the phone, not her. She was ready to give me the what’s for.” Deek grinned as he walked back to his table. “I like your new uncle. He’s got moxie.”
“Okay then.” I wished my aunt had called me to deal with this but, typical Jackie, she had to handle everything on her own. Even setting up coverage for her shift when her vacation went long.
“She doesn’t like to bother you. It makes her feel weak,” Deek said without looking up from his laptop.
“Stop reading my thoughts. I may have some X-rated things up there I don’t want you to know.” I filled a travel mug with ice and poured tea over the top. Then I chose a cookie for the walk home. I could stop at Diamond Lille’s for lunch, but without Amy to chat with, I’d rather go home and cuddle with Emma.
“I don’t read minds, I read auras. Besides, you’re too much of an open book. Even if I tried, I wouldn’t be able to stop. You throw up these billboard-size messages.” He glanced up from the screen. “Besides, if the two of you would just talk, I wouldn’t have to act like Apollo and transport messages.”
I paused by his spot on the way out the door. I’d already said goodbye to Toby. He was stocking the dessert case. The group from the meeting had cleaned out the treats to take home for afternoon snacks. Which was another reason I let the group meet at my place. It increased sales once a month. The worse the news from the City Council on fees and zoning issues, the better my sales went that day.
“Well, I’m just glad you’re here to translate. With you, Greg, and Harrold as buffers, I may never have to talk to her again.” I glanced at the screen. “Page 205? I thought you were on page 250 yesterday?”
“I threw away a scene. My professor didn’t like where it was going.” Deek slumped in his seat. “I can’t believe books get written when there’s so many opinions involved in every step.”
“Want a piece of advice I heard along the way?”
He nodded. “Sure. Your advice is usually just what I need to hear. I’m thinking you’re the author whisperer.”
“Heaven help me. That would be awful.” I shook the idea off me like it was a sticky cobweb. “Anyway, what I heard was you never let anyone read the first draft until you’re done.”
“That won’t work. Professor Hogan makes us turn in pages every week.” Deek leaned back his head. “Paper copies that he gives back with red ink all over them.”
“That doesn’t seem helpful.” I thought about the lectures I’d heard from a lot of authors doing tour talks. “Okay, this one is better. Don’t throw away anything. Keep it separate. You realize that once you get your grade on the class, you’re going to have to be the one to take a risk and find an agent. Your professor won’t be there to judge your work. You should keep what speaks to you.”
He stared at me. “You’re telling me to keep two sets of books? One just for the professor and one that would be the real book?”
“That way you won’t hurt the guy’s feelings, and by the time it gets published, time will have passed and you can blame the publisher’s editors for the changes.”
“That’s genius. I can pretend I agree, but not really.”
I nodded. “That could be true.”
“You’re doing it right now, aren’t you?” Deek grinned as he returned to his keyboard. “Is that what you do to your aunt?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” I waved at Toby and left the shop, heading home to an afternoon cuddled with Emma and the new book. Life was good.
“Miss Gardner? I need to talk to you about the way the business meetings are being run. Darla Taylor is always pushing her own agenda, and it always benefits her winery more than other businesses in town. Exactly what am I going to drag out on the street to sell to drunk green people?” Josh Thomas stared at me as I paused by his antiques shop where he stood, sweeping the already clean sidewalk. “Maybe a priceless set of Queen Anne dishware or some crystal? I’ll lose more in people dropping things than I’ll sell.”
And as it does sometimes, life turned from good to crap with one conversation.
Chapter 2
By the time I got home, I was starving. I’d spent at least an hour assuring Josh that the marketing planning wasn’t just set up to benefit Darla’s winery and spent time brainstorming ideas on what his store could sell during the event. Kyle Nabors, Josh’s assistant, had jumped in at the end and taken over the planning for the upcoming event. Kyle had talked Josh into a leprechaun theme. I hoped he could pull this off, because if he didn’t, I’d agreed to bring up Josh’s concern with Darla and the Council. I didn’t want to risk losing Darla as the spearhead of these festivals. She was a marketing genus. Josh just needed to be more open-minded and creative.
And I’ve heard you can teach pigs to fly.
I eyed the cookies on the counter, but instead took out meat, cheese, and other items to make myself a sandwich. I’d been eating way too many cookies and desserts from the store this winter and my pants were beginning to feel a little tight. I should run today too. I glanced at Emma, who was watching me make my lunch, and sighed.
Today was one of those days when what I wanted to do was coming up against what I needed to do. I had to be in the shower at five to be ready for the painting event at Drunken Art Studio because I had told Evie we’d meet her at six. If we ran, I’d only have two hours to read. If no one else stole some of my time.
Emma glanced at the doorway where her leash was hanging on a hook and back to me. She’d learned not even to look at the leash if it was raining. But she’d been outside since I’d come home and she knew it was a perfect day. Well, she would if she thought like me. I’m inclined to give my dog and other animals a little grace on what they were thinking. Which means I believe they think like we do. I ruffled her fur as I took the plate to the table. “Let me eat and then I’ll fold that last load of clothes I didn’t get done yesterday. Then we’ll run.”
Emma let out a short yip, then went to lay down on her kitchen bed to wait. And who says dogs can’t understand you?
I glanced at the mail while I ate, sorting it into two piles: bills and junk. And one invitation. The bright blue of the envelope made me smile as I opened it. Olivia was turning six and having a princess party at one of the city’s popular kid pizza spots. Olivia was Sasha’s daughter, a former employee of Coffee, Books, and More, and a friend. A note had been added to the envelope and I opened the letter to read it.