“He figured out that he was Tristan,” Kristen said as she found her gaze shifting back to the front door and decided that it would probably be in her best interest to double-check the deadbolt.
“How?”came the curious question after a slight pause.
“He pissed me off,” Kristen said, wondering if he was finally going to let this go now that he knew the truth.
“He does seem to do that a lot,” Amber pointed out.
“And this time he took advantage of the fact that I locked myself out of my house and followed me onto the roof,” Kristen explained as she double-checked the deadbolt.
“How did he take the news?” Amber asked, dropping down on the couch with a soft sigh.
“He glared, went to open his mouth only to rethink that decision, went back to glaring before muttering to himself, scaled the roof, fell off the rose trellis only to have the dead rose bush break his fall before grabbing the ladder, dragged it back over to the house, climbed back onto the roof, and kidnapped me. That was followed by taping me to a chair, a nervous breakdown, tearing his office apart, skimming through one of my books, and quickly realizing just how badly he'd screwed up,” Kristen said, shrugging it off as she-
“And the book…” Amber drawled with a pointed look at the tower of Twinkies on the coffee table that Kristen had been in the middle of building when she decided to check the mail.
“It’s coming along,” Kristen said, lying her ass off as she rubbed the bridge of her nose, hoping the move was enough to hide her wince as she took in the pile of Twinkies stacked on top of her laptop along with a bottle of Elmer’s glue and the bottle of black glitter that she grabbed during her late night run to Walmart last night to give it some pizazz.
“I can see that,” Amber said, slowly nodding as she looked from the tower of Twinkies that Kristen was hoping would helpclear her head to the painting supplies that she threw in the corner last week when the inspiration to paint the house had her making a quick trip to the hardware store and-
“Are…are those Christmas ornaments?” Amber asked, drawing her attention to the Christmas ornaments that she’d decided to make after a Google search for writer’s block took her down a rabbit hole that ended with her ordering five dozen Christmas ornaments, red and green paint, and a year’s worth of glitter.
Clearing her throat, Kristen murmured, “I wanted to get ahead of the Christmas rush this year.”
“It’s March,” Amber pointed out as her gaze shifted to her right and-
“Why is he dressed like a pirate?” Amber asked while Kristen stood there, taking another sip of the delicious creamy concoction, absently noting that the large golden retriever that she really needed to come up with a name for was still glaring at her through one eye.
For a moment, she debated taking the eye patch off him only to decide against it since it really brought the whole ensemble together. Well, that and the last time that she’d tried removing the eyepatch he’d grumbled at her. She should really come up with a name for him, Kristen thought even as she tried to come up with an answer that wouldn’t make her look pathetic. When she couldn’t think of anything, she decided that perhaps now would be a good time to change the subject.
“What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming until Thursday,” Kristen said, following her assistant’s gaze as it moved around the room only to take in the books that she’d color-coordinated before taking in the paint samples she’d strategically placed across the living room wall to see which one complimented herGooniesposter, and ended by taking in the chess board she’d set up by the window only to promptlyabandon after she remembered that she didn’t know how to play Chess.
“Besides saving you from the clown determined to steal your soul?” Amber asked as she took in the discarded candy bar wrappers leftover from Kristen’s 80s movie binge the other night.
“Besides that,” Kristen said even as she found herself glancing back at her bookshelves and wondered if she should organize the books by height instead.
“To stop you,” Amber said, making Kristen frown as she glanced back and-
“I can explain,” Kristen said, although, to be fair, she wasn’t sure that she could.
“This is just sad,” Amber said with a pitying look as she picked up the fake thermometer that Kristen found online.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Kristen mumbled weakly as she followed Amber’s pointed gaze to the empty cardboard boxes leaning against the wall, the same ones that she was supposed to fill with books and swag for the signing in Providence this weekend.
“So, you’re not trying to get out of the signing?” Amber asked while Kristen schooled her features, knowing better than to give anything away.
“Now, why would I do that?” Kristen asked, blinking innocently as she met Amber’s curious gaze.
“Because you’re a coward, trying to cancel another signing because you’re afraid that one of your readers is going to ask why you haven’t published a book in over a year?” Amber said, blinking back at her.
Wincing, Kristen mumbled, “There is that.”
“You need to go,” Amber said with a look that had Kristen swallowing hard as she gestured weakly towards the fake thermometer.
“I’m sick?” she said with a hopeful smile only to follow that up with a forced cough, a sniffle, and just for the hell of it, a murmured, “I might even be contagious,” which, of course, was followed by another cough.
“You’re pathetic,” Amber said with a sad shake of her head as she reached over and helped herself to a Twinkie.
“Which is why I shouldn’t go to this signing,” Kristen said with a heartfelt sigh and a solemn nod. “The readers deserve better.”
