Jenna shook her head, despite the burning urge to vent to someone. “That’s not on the list.” She didn’t have any close friends back in Indiana. The girls at work were also friends with Whitney, considering her sister had helped Jenna get that job, too.Just one more thing to hold over me. How did I not see that coming?“Think it’s done raining?”
“Definitely not.”
“Sorry, Graham. Looks like we’ll have to save that W-A-L-K for tomorrow.”
Jenna, following Cody’s instructions, drove them the few blocks to a two-story house on a corner lot. They caught a glimpse of a man seated at a desk in a corner window. Jenna envied the way he looked lost in what she could only assume was his story.
She’d never be a novelist. That much was certain. But she loved getting lost in the magic of creating just the same.
A young girl, maybe seven or eight, answered the door. She was the spitting image of Sophie. “Denver, they’re here!” she announced eagerly, holding the door open and stepping back to let them inside.
A few moments later, a man dressed in sweatpants and a three-day-old beard stepped into the hall to greet them. “Hey, Cody,” the man greeted. “And you must be Jenna.” Denver extended his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Are you a . . . friend of Cody’s?” he guessed.
“Denver, this is Jenna Kingsley.”
Denver studied Jenna an uncomfortable amount of time. “Eddie Kingsley’s granddaughter. How did I not see it right away?” With each person she met, Jenna was more and more surprised by how many people in this small town remembered her grandpa. It made her question just how many trips he made. Surely it was more than the three he claimed. “Please, come into my office.”
“Can I get you something to drink?” the little girl asked, sounding much too mature for her tiny frame. “We have water, milk, and apple juice.”
“Apple juice?” Jenna repeated, unable to hide her excitement.
“It’s my favorite.”
“Mine, too.”
“Caroline, why don’t you grab two waters and an apple juice.” Denver looked to Cody. “Unless you want coffee? I’ve been trying to cut back on caffeine. It was murder for a few weeks, but now that I’ve broken the habit, I have a lot more energy for writing.”
“Water’s good.”
Slipping into a chair off to the side of a massive L-shaped desk, Jenna noticed a stack of books. She glimpsed the spines pointed in her direction, shock hitting her. “Wait, you’re DenverGrant. As in the insanely popular mystery writer, Denver Grant.” Jenna wasn’t sure why the name on the list hadn’t jumped out at her before, but now that the dots were connected, her pulse was going crazy. “I’ve read every one of your books.” By read, she meant she’d binged his entire series last Christmas. And when his latest came out over the summer, she called in sick to work and devoured it in one day. Whitney had been livid when she caught Jenna wrapped up in a book, but even her wrath had been worth it.
“Probably not the newest one,” Denver said, holding up a paperback copy of a book she’d been anticipating for weeks. A banner across the cover marked it as aproof copy not for sale.
“Jenna writes and illustrates children’s books.” Jenna vaguely heard Cody speaking as Denver handed over the proof copy of his newest book. One that wasn’t due to release for two more weeks. Her fingers trembled with excitement. Though the previous book included a satisfyingly solved mystery, there’d been one doozey of a cliffhanger. The temptation to start reading right now tugged at her.
“You writeandillustrate?” Denver asked. “That’s impressive.”
“She’s J.A. Kingsley,” Caroline announced as she carried bottled beverages into the office. The sweet girl offered the most adorable beaming smile. “I have all your books, too.”
“Caroline.” She vaguely remembered signing a set of books last summer at her grandpa’s request. “You’reCaroline.”
The girl nodded eagerly.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Are you writing any new books yet?”
From the intelligent way this little girl carried herself, Jenna wondered if Caroline might’ve outgrown picture books. “Soon, I hope.”
Jenna felt Cody’s gaze flicker to her more than once as Caroline rambled a mile a minute with adoration for every book she’d read, and each time she felt him looking, it made her nerves tingle. She blamed it on the excitement of meeting not only her favorite author, but one of her biggest fans.
“We better let you get back to writing,” Jenna said when the conversation lulled. She was eager to find a notepad and scribble down her newest ideas. Maybe what she’d needed—more than meeting her favorite author—was to talk to an insightful young girl who renewed Jenna’s spirits and reminded her why she started crafting stories to begin with. “I don’t want to be a target if your fans found out I delayed the next release.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Cody asked, holding up the folded list for her to see.
“Oh, a signed copy. Right.” Her entire collection of Denver Grant’s books was packed in a box, buried in the back of her trailer. “I have them all, but none of them aresigned. Do you have a copy of the first in series?”
“Or I could sign this proof copy,” Denver offered.
