“I’ll be right back with the brochure and contracts.”
“Cool.” I gave her a thumbs-up and turned back to Paisley. “Do you think I can write off the golf cart if I get a story idea from having it?”
She shrugged. “I have no idea. It’s worth a try.”
I agreed.
“What are you going to do about the signings?” she asked. “Are you going to ask to be sent to different bars from Big Butt Bates?”
I shook my head. “The exact opposite. I’ve decided to treat him how I’m going to treat the board at the Landings.”
She giggled as if I’d just said the funniest thing in the world. “Are you being serious? You’re going to torture him? I thought you felt bad about what happened two years ago.”
“That was before he let himself into my house—he did not knock, no matter what he says—and acted like a snot. He’s got attitude with me, and it’s not warranted. What happened two years ago was an accident.”
“He obviously doesn’t see it that way.”
“That’s because he can’t find the fun in life. It’s not my problem.” I shook my head. “If he wants a game, which he clearly does, then I’m going to give him one.”
“You’re not going to stop until he cries, are you?”
“Nope. It’s on. I’m not putting up with his attitude.”
I didn’t say what I was really thinking. In his eyes, that first day, I’d found the one thing I never wanted to see again—judgment. It was the same thing I’d seen in the other parents’ eyes when my mother dropped me off at school with a coat and boots that didn’t fit. People had looked at us as if we were low-class and I didn’t belong there. I was never going to let anybody treat me that way again.
6
SIX
There was no getting out of the Author Swish. That was what they were calling it. The Author Swish. What the hell was a swish, anyway? Nobody could answer that question. Nathan thought it was funny. He’d been caught up in the hoopla too. He was much more relaxed about it than I was.
“This is crap,” I complained as I checked over my outfit one more time. We’d taken an Uber to the Cotton Exchange Tavern, a place I’d never been to before. Nathan wanted to drink. Since I knew from experience that meant I might drink with him—crowds made me uncomfortable—Ubering seemed like the smart thing to do.
“Your outfit is fine.” Nathan wasn’t even looking at me. “It’s just a quick dinner before the event. We’re supposed to meet the other authors we’ll be stuck with for the next three months.”
I gave him a dirty look. “I wasn’t talking about my outfit. Although … what’s wrong with it?”
Nathan was exasperated when he finally looked at me. “I just said it was fine.”
“Yes, but you’re usually more exuberant than that.”
“Not about the way you dress.”
Is that true?I couldn’t remember. Rather than dwell on my khakis and polo shirt, I decided to change the subject. “I don’t see why we have to eat dinner before the event. It’s not as if I care about impressing these other authors.” One author in particular could suck it big time. I didn’t mention Bree for obvious reasons.
“You’re a ray of freaking sunshine tonight,” Nathan drawled. “Have I told you that yet?”
“I just … don’t want to hang out with the other authors.” I tugged on my shirt. It was powder blue.
“I’m pretty sure that you’re only talking about one author.”
Don’t say her name.I refused to look at Nathan. He’d been bringing up her name for a week straight, and I hated it.
“Let’s go,” I said to distract him. There was little Nathan loved more than a good dinner. He’d looked over the menu before leaving my house and already knew what he was going to order. “We can get an appetizer if we’re early.”
Nathan perked up but didn’t take the bait. “Have you seen her?”
I played it cool. “Who—Annette? I’ve only talked to her via email.”
