Someone claps their hands, indicating we should all join the circle, and it breaks our comments, meaning I don't get a reply.
“Welcome to the club, Harlow,” he whispers as he walks away. I guess he gave me my answer.
My jaw drops slightly before I shake my head and join the circle.
We are a group of six.
A lady in her mid-fifties stands and greets us with her bright smile. “Hello, everyone, I’m Gloria, and I’m excited for our next few days. We will study some writing techniques, soak in inspiration, and also take some time to relax because health is key for great writing. You’re all here because your publisher sent you. Doesn’t mean you need to improve, you can only grow and become better here. Each of you represents a different genre too, which enables you all to share a different perspective.”
We all seem to be listening without judgment.
“Let’s start with a quick introduction round, then we will dive right into our activities.” She indicates for the woman next to her to start.
Turns out we have a sci-fi writer, historical fiction author, a fantasy author, plus women’s fiction, whereas I write the romance that I’m sure my hypothetical future daughter one day will roll her eyes about.
Stone smiles at the group. “Hey, I’m Stone and a local to Lake Spark. I used to play hockey, and my little brother is the general manager of the Spinners. So yeah, it’s only logical that I write fiction about hockey, mostly about a coach who finds himself in moral dilemmas. Loosely based on a coach from way back. I absolutely do write my own words. Every. Single. One.” He zips an unfavorable look at me.
“Great.” Gloria turns her attention to me. “Last but not least.”
I swallow and give everyone a curt wave. “Hi, I’m Harlow, and yes, that’s really my first name. I write romance, just the, well, steamy kind. Uhm, I live in the Florida panhandle, so the temperatures here are a bit nippy, but the start of fall in this small town seems perfect for writing. Complete Gilmore Girls vibes.”
“Aren’t you the author who makes all those olive-green-themed videos next to green drinks?” Jennifer, the women’s fiction author, asks.
I shrug my shoulders. “Yeah, that’s me. Marketing, unfortunately, comes with the profession.”
“Unless you’re me. It’s amazing what being a former MVP of a hockey team does for selling books.” Stone casually drinks from his cup of coffee that seems to be filled with a giant dose of ego.
I roll my eyes. “Right, because that must work when everyone buys because of your looks.” I’m doubtful, and damn it, that just spun out of my mouth.
His smirk is subtle enough to cause something inside of me to pulse. Luckily, he seems to let me off for my slip-up. “If I can write or not is an air of mystery that people love. It’s great. Eases the pressure and allows me to focus on my writing and gym sessions. Not to mention, hitting up Jolly Joe’s in town that gives you coffee with little jellybeans inside. Oh, you might like that. They say the olive-green ones bring luck. You can take a picture of it and post it online.” Now he throws me a fake smile.
“Cute. An arrogant writer. We just love those,” I retort.
Frank, the sci-fi writer, looks at us, confused. “Have you two dated or something? You seem like a bickering couple with a torrid past.”
Jennifer snaps her fingers. “They are totally giving off those vibes.”
My mouth gapes open, amazed that anyone would assume that. “No. I just met the guy this morning when the staff rolled out the red carpet and treated the rest of us like peasants,” I inform everyone.
“Hey, that’s a step too far. I heard Stuart offered you a cookie,” Stone coolly mentions, not fazed by the accusation flying at us.
Gloria smiles awkwardly. “Well, aren’t we all getting sidetracked. Let’s get back to the agenda.”
I groan quietly to myself; this is not how I imagined these tranquil few days would go. I quickly whip my head to Stone to give him one more glare for good measure, and the hockey ass just winks at me.
“I want everyone to use either their journal or online project tool, whatever you use, a few times a day to check in with where your thoughts are. I’ve also included a list of questions to guide your gratitude and future goals. Of course, you all have time to write your current work-in-progress each day. We have a lot planned in the next few days but plenty of downtime. Tomorrow will be about descriptive writing and editing. Today is inspiration. So, I’ve teamed you up with another member of the group to go on a long walk on various routes for a few hours. Soak in nature and let your thoughts wander.”
We all seem to be on board with that plan. Sounds like a great start.
“Okay, so I’ve put you two together.” Gloria stands and points to Jen and Brett, the fantasy author. Then Frank and Greg, the historical author. Gloria hesitantly looks between me and Stone. “Uhm, you two.” I hear her grumble something as she walks on. “Hope I don’t regret this.”
“What kind of luck is this?” I rub the back of my neck, frustrated.
“What a gift.” Stone is not at all serious. He turns his head sharply to me. “Five minutes, meet you by the bench swing overlooking the lake.”
“Yes, sir.” I salute him, but it just causes him to tip his head to the side and a wry, devilish smile appears.
Oh no, did he think there was innuendo under that, in calling him sir? Now it’s a thought in my head.
