“We could say we have to go in the house and help, but he might offer to go with us. Nobody inside would thank us for that.”
“Then maybe we can be the most help by keeping him occupied out here.”
“That’s my thought. Hello, Irving. I don’t think you’ve met my sister Lani.”
“Haven’t had the pleasure.” He thrust out his gloved hand. “That’s why I came over.”
She shook his hand, glad that she was also wearing gloves, which minimized the contact. She used to be in awe of successful writers, but her job had muted that reaction. For the most part.She’d still be tongue-tied if she ever came face-to-face with Stephen King.
Through her work she’d discovered that writers were just people. She’d never had a reason to actively dislike a famous author.
Until now.
What kind of man fathers a child, abandons him for twenty-nine years and then pops up and makes a pest of himself? Irving Quick’s moral compass had to be seriously off-kilter.
But his face — oh, my God — his face was Rance’s with thirty years gently added. He was still a handsome devil and his smile was so like Rance’s it gave her goosebumps.
“I guess you and I are the outliers.”
“We are?”
“The only two who don’t live here.”
“Oh.” She hated being lumped into a category with him but he was correct. “I guess so.”
“I hear you’re in publishing.”
“I am.” Chances were good he’d never heard of the company, but she said the name anyway, out of company loyalty. “Square Glasses Press.”
He chuckled. “Cute. For Benny Franklin, right?”
“Right.” He probably thought calling himBennywas clever.
“Sounds like a boutique outfit.”
Sara jumped in, bless her. “It’s a great company. They have an excellent reputation. Lani’s worked with some amazing authors.”
“Good editing is so important. I’ve had some decent editors but inevitably they leave and I have to break in another one.”
“How terribly sad for you.”
Lani managed to turn her laughter into a cough. Would Irving take offense at Sara’s sarcasm?
“You said it. Sad and incredibly frustrating.”
Looked like Irving wasn’t easily offended.
And he clearly relished having an audience. “You know, I almost envy the writers who skip the traditional route and go indie. Then you get to choose your editor. I think Rance would be smart to take that path.”
“Hm.” Wouldn’t he love that? He might think then he wouldn’t have to risk seeing Rance’s bestseller sitting in the front of the bookstore, possibly beating out his.
“In fact, Desiree should absolutely consider it, too. She has an editorial board right here. The Wenches could cover edits and Lucky’s marketing guru Trent could handle promo. Find a cover artist and she’s in business.”
And she’d still outsell this stuffed shirt.
“I stopped by L’Amour and More this afternoon. It’s charming. The perfect venue for her genre and she can always be assured her books will be in the front window.”
“I spent a lot of time in New York before I moved here in the fall.” Sara gave Lani a covert nudge. “M.R. Morrison’s books are everywhere, including in the front window of bookstores.”
