“Probably so I can feed his ego some more.”
“I don’t think we met the same guy this morning. Unless there’s something else you’re not telling me, I assume your unresolved feelings involve romance in some way.”
I cringe, glad she can’t see my face from the bottom of the stairs. “Anyone ever tell you that you read too much?”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
“I need to change. I’ll be down in a minute.”
“What are you going to do about Hannah Brandt?” she calls.
I pause, holding the door open as I think. “If she replies and says she’s willing, I’ll lock her in to replace him so he’s off the hook. If she’s too busy, I’ll try to get her for the next session.”
“Attagirl.”
The door closes behind me, and I toss a piece of bread into the toaster while I get ready for the day. When Hannah gets back to me, I could offer her a spot in the next session, if she’s interested. For now, I need to worry about notifying all the paying customers about the change in instructors. There’s no way they’ll be even a little disappointed. I’m about to make twenty-five people very happy.
Then I can worry about seeing Dorian again this afternoon. How we’ll have to spend the next month together for this writing course.
And how I’ll manage to swallow my pride andnotreveal to Dorian freaking McConkie that I just happen to be the secret pen name behind his number-one rival on all the Amazon charts for best thrillers.
five
dorian
The last timeI was this nervous to speak to a woman, I was about to sign a contract with my publisher and agree to give them six bestsellers or my first unborn child.
Now I’m walking into my parents’ house for lunch because I need something to distract me from the fact that I have a meeting with Piper Monroe in a few hours, and I don’t know how to be normal around her.
Mom is sitting at the dining room table with a sandwich and the month’s bills splayed out before her. She lifts her reading glasses onto her head when she sees me. “Hey, honey. I didn’t expect to see you today.”
“Just dropping in.”
“Hungry?”
“Maybe.” I go to the fridge and look around, noting the leftover chicken pot pie. “Did Dad ever fix that step?”
“He’s planning to, but you know how it is. His to-do list is a mile long.”
“I can take a look.” I plate some pie and stick it in the microwave. “After I eat.”
“If you don’t have anything going on, that would be nice.”
I fill two cups with ice water and bring them to the table.
“Thanks, hon.” Mom sips the water, then turns her attention back to paying the bills. “Paisley told me your signing went really well. She had to wait almost two hours in line.”
“Some people talked quite a bit.”
Mom reaches for my hand. “Don’t be modest. We all know how good your books are. I wish I could have been there, but Dad wasn’t feeling great.”
“We’ll take our good days where we can, eh?” I pull my hand free and go to retrieve my pie from the microwave. When the conversation turns to my dad’s health, I always feel antsy. “It was nice of Hudson to stand in that line.”
“I love him,” Mom says, taking a swig of her water. “He’s smitten with P. I’ll be shocked if he doesn’t propose before the end of the year.”
“Which means you’ve already started planning the wedding.”
Mom’s smile is guilty. “Just some of the components. Obviously, Paisley and Hudson will have a lot to say about it. His family probably wants some big to-do in a ballroom downtown, but Paisley has her eye on this cute barn-style venue, so I’ve been watching it for openings. Don’t tell a soul. I don’t want to jinx them.”
