Dedicated to the One I Love, page 13
“I saw the headlines, yes. That must have been hard.”
“Public humiliation. Yeah. Not a fan.” He tried to laugh but couldn’t.
“I’m sorry, Joe. You were in love with her, so I won’t try to make things better with some platitude. Believe me, I heard them all after Andrew died.”
“I appreciate that.” Joe gulped some water, easing the dryness in his throat. “Abbie just told me Cassidy’s pregnant, but I won’t be sending a baby gift.”
Kylie nodded her understanding.
“So, almost engaged, never married. How does this relate to … our book?” There. He said it.
“I’ve been reading your novels. Because my husband was such a huge fan, I have access to all of them. Obviously, Remington Gerard has never been married. Or engaged.”
“Right.”
“We can either play with that and Evangeline is the woman who opens his heart to love, as I’ve mentioned before. Or—”
“Or?”
“We can weave into this story that they’ve met before and clashed—and then have their relationship become romantic. What do you think?”
Kylie was offering him a choice about how the romance might work, rather than playing the Queen of Romance role and insisting it go a certain way. She sat across from him, her posture relaxed.
This was his chance to exert control. She’d opened the door and asked him what he thought. He had the freedom to say without looking like a jerk.
Thank God Kylie couldn’t read his mind and see he’d mentally violated their truce already.
“You’re the romance expert. Do you think one way would work better than the other?”
“Doing it the second way—where they’ve met before—will take extra writing. We need to consider that.”
“We’ve already lost some time.” Joe steepled his fingers.
“True. Why don’t we keep it simple and write it straightforward, where their personalities clash because they do things differently. Despite that, they fall in love.”
“That’s smart.”
“We agree then?” Kylie tilted her head.
“Yes.” That hadn’t been too hard. “How do you see us working together?”
“Our publishers, editors, and agents want us writing together, but I don’t think that means we have to get together every day. It’s not like they’ve put up video monitors to watch us.”
“Sounds like you’ve been reading too much military suspense.”
“More than usual.” Kylie winked. “I don’t know about you, but I’m also working on finishing the last book in my series—the one I never released after Andrew died.”
“And I need to come up with something else to show my editors.”
Kylie took a few moments to type something into her computer. “What if I send you my chapters on Monday and then we meet together on Wednesday?”
“That sounds like a reasonable schedule.” Joe leaned back in his chair. “If you have any questions about Remington Gerard, just text or call me.”
“I’ll do that—and I do have one question.”
“Fire away.”
“How would you like him to be injured?” Her hands were poised above her keyboard.
“Injured?”
“He’s been injured before. I don’t want to repeat something you’ve already written. If there’s a scene in Lethal Strike where he’s injured that you think I can add Evangeline into, let me know.”
“I don’t get it.”
“If he gets injured and Evangeline is there, it allows them to emotionally bond.”
“Can I just say that when I sprained my ankle playing basketball, I didn’t feel like bonding with anyone.”
“It’s a romance trope, Joe.” Kylie shoved her chair back and motioned for him to follow her back inside. “Come here.”
Her office bore no resemblance to his, with its overly organized bookshelves. “Color-coordinated books?”
“Isn’t it fantastic? Don’t ask how long that took me to accomplish.” She went to a row of shelves on the right side of the room. Pulled one, two, three books from the top shelf. “Here.”
He held the books away from his body. “What are these?”
“My first three books. Like every writer, I got better the more books I wrote, but these will make my point.”
“Am I supposed to read these?” He shuffled through the trio of books.
“Of course. I don’t want you to use them as doorstops. I’ve read your books to understand Remington Gerard and how a military suspense works.” She patted his shoulder. “You now have a reading assignment.”
Kylie hadn’t mentioned their truce included reading romances. She might as well have asked him to watch a Hallmark movie marathon. The woman was trying to hide a smirk—and failing.
“There’s only one way I’m agreeing to this.”
“And that is?”
“You send me home with some of your tacos too.”
CHAPTER 13
There’s something about Saturday morning breakfast with your best friends. Something comforting about having a favorite breakfast restaurant in Colorado Springs, where the hostess recognizes you, greets everyone in your group by name. Where your favorite waitress knows who in your group wanted coffee and how, and that Kylie was the lone holdout for hot tea.
Kylie sat in the corner booth and waited to speak, letting her teabag steep in the little silver pot, while their waitress served everyone their different breakfast entrees and refilled their waters. Between the location at the back of the restaurant and one of her favorite summer hats, she was almost guaranteed anonymity.
“Today is about more than just breakfast with friends.”
“What do you mean?” Dylan cut her waffle into small bites and doused them with syrup. Her friend would have a definite sugar rush by the time she was done eating. “Are we celebrating the start of July?”
“Why not? And don’t get me wrong. I love having breakfast with you all.” Kylie poured tea into her red mug. “You’ve been the best of friends to me the past three years.”
“Friends stick together—no matter what.” Zoe, who was sitting across from her, raised her Café Mocha in the air in a small salute.
“That’s right.” Dylan nodded.
“Besides, you usually pick up the tab, so why wouldn’t we come to breakfast?” Leah arched her eyebrow and laughed.
“Leah, that’s a terrible thing to say.” Zoe frowned so that her eyebrows came together over her pink glasses.
“Kylie knows I’m joking.”
She did. Kylie knew each of these women so well, and they knew her. These three women had rallied around her after Andrew died. Dylan had been waiting for her the day she returned from Greece and stayed with her the first two months, insisting she didn’t want Kylie to be alone until she was ready, even if it meant leaving her husband, Miles, alone at night for eight weeks. Zoe still sent handwritten notes of encouragement with scripture verses that had started after Andrew’s memorial service. And Leah’s ability to make her tears turn to laughter had pulled Kylie away from the edge of despair so many times.
“Are we going to plan something for your birthday in a few days?” Dylan would be the one to mention that.
“No—”
“That’s a great idea!” Zoe was always ready for a party.
“I vote yes!” Leah raised her hand.
“That’s not what I wanted to talk about.”
Dylan motioned to the other women at the table. “We want to talk about it.”
“My birthday is not a big deal.”
“You’re a Fourth of July baby! Growing up with fireworks on your birthday didn’t automatically make it a big deal?”
“Single mom. Worked a lot. As a kid, my birthdays were low-key.” Kylie used her fork to pull away pieces of her hash browns. “I’m juggling two deadlines. I’ll probably watch fireworks on TV.”
Mentioning her birthday always made her uncomfortable. When she’d married Andrew, she’d finally had someone who wanted to celebrate her on her birthday. Since his death, she’d retreated to the norm of ignoring her birthday again.
Kylie moved more bits of her hash browns around her plate. Staying quiet, going unnoticed during all the fireworks was just fine with her.
“Back to what I was saying.” Kylie wiped her hands on the cloth napkin. “The three of you aren’t just my closest friends, you’ve also been the best advance readers for my books.”
Her friends froze. Stared at her, waiting for her to say more. It was almost comical how their actions mirrored each other’s. “I need your help again.”
Leah spoke first, never blinking. “If you mean you have something for us to read—at last!—I am so in!”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
“Yes! Absolutely yes.” Zoe clapped her hands.
Dylan, who was sitting to her right, half turned to face her. “You finished your book?”
“I didn’t say that.” Kylie cradled the mug of tea in her hands. “But it’s coming along.”
“And?”
“And I like it. A lot.”
“This is so wonderful!” The smile on Zoe’s face probably matched Kylie’s.
“That’s not all—and this part I need you to keep between the four of us, okay?”
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Leah’s words were a low whisper as she leaned in from the left.
“What’s true?”
“You’re writing with”—Leah glanced around the restaurant—“Tate Merrick.”
Kylie almost expected a background duh-duh-duh and couldn’t hold back a laugh, smothering it with her hand. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
Zoe’s eyes widened behind her glasses. “Do we get to read that manuscript too?”
“Are you up for not one but two manuscripts, both with a quick turnaround?”
“Are you kidding?” Zoe’s question ended on a high note. “Send us what you’ve got whenever you’re ready. Am I right?”
The other two women cheered, attracting the attention of people sitting nearby.
Kylie shushed them, even as she savored being with friends who supported and believed in her. “I know your feedback will make my writing better. I can finish this manuscript with your help—and make sure I get Evangeline right too.”
“Evangeline?”
“That’s the name I chose for the love interest for Remington Gerard, the hero in Tate Merrick’s novel.”
“It’s perfect! So romantic.”
The other diners who’d glanced their way probably thought they were just a group of women out for a fun breakfast. But this was so much more. Dylan, Leah, and Zoe had stayed with her when the ground beneath her feet fell away. They’d grabbed her hands, stopping her from plunging into the black abyss of grief.
Leah relaxed against the booth. “You want to tell us anything more about Joe, also known as Tate Merrick?”
“No. Not really.”
“Oh come on, Kylie! We all saw the video of you two arguing.”
“I figured as much.” She took a sip of her tea. “Isn’t there something else on the internet to capture everyone’s attention?”
“His ex-girlfriend is pregnant.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Zoe rested her chin on one of her upturned hands. “Are his eyes really that blue?”
Huh.
“Uh-oh. She paused.” Leah was watching her much too closely. “Kylie, do you like this guy?”
“No, I don’t like him.” She added extra emphasis to the word like. “A few days ago, we could barely tolerate each other. But now we’ve declared a truce and I think we’ll meet our August deadline just fine.”
“That’s it?”
There was nothing to say. “We’ve decided to be friends. Focus on the story.”
“Well, I’m disappointed.” Zoe slumped back against the booth.
“Sorry. Any romance will be in the manuscripts. That’s good, right?”
“Yay!” Leah’s and Zoe’s cheers were muted, causing Kylie to laugh.
“I still think we need to celebrate your birthday, Kylie.” Dylan set her plate aside, having demolished her waffle.
“I’ll take a rain check.” She kept her tone firm. “Any celebrating needs to be postponed until after I’ve turned in both these books.”
“Writers. It’s all about your deadlines.”
“You’re just realizing that?” Her phone buzzed. Mom? At least this time she checked and could let it go to voicemail.
Dylan’s eyes narrowed. “Everything okay?”
Kylie turned her phone over. “My mom. I’ll check the voicemail later.”
“Ah.”
“She called a while back to say she and her husband were traveling in their RV and would be coming through Colorado later this summer. She’s probably updating me.”
“Oh.”
“No big deal.”
“Right.” Dylan nodded.
“With my deadlines, I won’t have time to see them.”
“And they’ll take no for an answer?”
“They’ll have to.”
She and her mom did life better long distance. They both knew that.
And if that statement didn’t scream dysfunctional mother-daughter relationship, Kylie didn’t know what did. She took a casual bite of her eggs Benedict. Mistake. Forced herself to swallow the cold, congealed egg covered in sauce instead of spitting it into her napkin.
“What’s the plan for us reading the manuscripts?” Dylan took the hint and changed the topic.
“I’m glad you asked … ” Kylie paused as their waitress returned to their table and everyone who needed to-go boxes requested one. Leah snagged the bill, causing Kylie to laugh. “I thought I was paying.”
“Even if I have to be satisfied with fictional romances, you made me so happy today, this is my treat! Keep talking.”
“Once we’re done here, if you’ll follow me to my car, I have your binders—”
“Our advance reader binders?”
“Of course! With your personalized covers. You didn’t think I’d forget those, even if it has been three years.” Kylie was thankful she’d remembered that fun part of the process for her friends. “I printed up Worth the Risk, which you haven’t read yet because there wasn’t any ending. I read through it again, made some changes, and added two new chapters for you to read.”
“Veronica Hollins is back! I can’t wait!” Leah bounced in her seat as if she’d just been told they were all going on a shopping spree—and Kylie was paying for it.
“Shhh, Leah!” Kylie shook her head. “You’re also getting a second binder with the first chapter I wrote of Joe’s upcoming book, Lethal Strike.”
“Joe of the blue eyes.” Zoe almost singsonged the words.
“Stop.” Kylie shook her head. “Joe and I have a professional relationship that has nothing to do with his blue eyes. And if that’s not one of the more ridiculous things I’ve ever said … anyway, I’ll send other chapters along as I’m finished. Does that work?”
“Yes.” Zoe’s face was as serious as if she was taking a sacred pledge. “I’ll stop watching all my favorite TV series for this. What’s the timeline?”
“It’s quick—for both books. We have to turn Joe’s manuscript in the end of August. I’d love to turn my book in by the end of September.”
“Good to know.” Leah scribbled her name on the restaurant receipt. “And we’ll all be praying for you too.”
“Thanks. I’ll need it. I’m balancing this crazy mixture of nervousness and excitement.”
Kylie could do this. She and Joe were in sync—finally. She had her trusted team of readers working with her again. She knew what she needed to do. She’d stay focused. No distractions.
When her phone buzzed again, she dropped it into her purse. She was doing one thing at a time and right now she was finishing up with Dylan, Zoe, and Leah. Getting them their manuscripts. She’d check her phone once she got home.
…
Joe was accustomed to having the house to himself. To quiet, unless the TV was on when he was watching a sports program. And he was good with that. When he’d dated Cassidy, she had music on all the time. Or she was playing her guitar, trying out a new song. She’d even brought over a portable keyboard, alternating between writing notes and lyrics, and then asking him to come listen and tell her what he thought. Not that he was a musician. Maybe that, and not her claim that he refused to commit, was the real issue in their relationship.
Last night he’d accepted Tucker and Mallory’s casual invite to a Saturday evening church service. He woke up this morning still trying to figure out why he’d said yes, after years of not attending church, except for the traditional Christmas and Easter occasions.
He also found himself mulling over how the pastor’s message seemed more like a conversation and less like a finger-pointing listen-to-me half hour intent on making him squirm. He just might go back—and that realization unsettled him.
Today the house was filled with friends, following a morning outing to The Incline at Castle Rock. Abbie and Mallory had called first and second chances on the shower, and then he’d insisted Tucker and Hudson take their turns. Everyone snacked on the precut veggies and fruit platters he put out on the kitchen table while they prepped lunch.
“It was fun to do The Incline today, instead of driving all the way to Manitou.” Mallory tossed the beefsteak tomato slices into the large plastic bowl filled with mixed salad greens.
“I agree, but some people had to run up and down Challenge Hill a crazy number of times.” Abbie nodded toward Joe, who put bottles of ranch and Thousand Island dressings on the counter.
