Chapter Three
If staring at a blank screen was a contest, I would be the champion. Scenes filled with dialogue always took longer than I liked, but words had meaning. Saying the wrong word could affect the entire story. Just like in real life, one should always be careful to say what one means and mean what one says. It was important that the conversations between Hunter and Laine be precise and not give too much away too soon. The right amount of tension had to be created, all while making it natural. In real life, fights aren’t scripted, which means they’re messy. In books, that same feeling needed to come across.
While I thought about how to craft Laine’s response to Hunter after he basically accused her of lying about how the car accident happened, I did something against the best interest of my mental health. I pulled up one of my biggest critic’s website, blaring Eminem as I went and letting Hunter’s words stew in my mind, You must be remembering wrong. My father would never hurt you.
Hunter refused to believe his father caused the accident that killed him and severely hurt Laine. He wanted to think it was because Laine had a concussion. Laine wanted to blurt the truth, but that was a risk in and of itself. If he didn’t believe her about the accident, he probably wouldn’t believe her about the second life Mr. Black led, even though she had proof. But she also wanted to protect Hunter. Mr. Black was dead now. What good would it do to ruin a dead man’s reputation other than hurting those who still lived?
I should have been reasonable and not searched Ms.-I-Hate-Books’s site. Seriously, I’m not sure why this woman kept reading my books—or any books for that matter. If she ever gave a good review, it was for books everyone else abhorred. Yet she had thousands of followers and at times was quoted by notable sites and other popular critics. Peter and Joan sounded in my head not to torture myself, but I knew sooner or later a nasty quote from her would pop up and slap me in the face. Better to just get it over with. I mean, how much worse could she get than last time when she called A Black Night the perfect cure for insomnia?
It didn’t take me long to find her review of Black Day Dawning. She was reaching new heights of nastiness. The title of her review was, Reading This Book was Indeed a Black Day. My sanity begged me to stop there. I should have listened.
In Ms. Moone’s latest overpriced excuse for literature, you will find yourself reading a train wreck in slow motion. It ran out of steam on the very first page. The chemistry between the supposed hero and heroine was more like a bad case of puppy love with a side of does-anyone-really-care-about-these-two. But if you are looking for a good doormat, then Laine is your girl and doesn’t disappoint. She seems willing at every turn to let Hunter walk all over her without consequence . . .
The rest of the review was more of the same. I was seething. How dare she call Laine a doormat. She was anything but. She had been through hell and was tough as nails. Sure, Hunter was an idiot around her at times, but that was because she confused him. He loved her, but he feared losing their friendship and losing her.
I got up and paced around my office, breathing heavily as I went. Who did this woman who only went by the name of Grace think she was? She was neither gracious nor graceful. She wouldn’t know a good love story if it bit her in the a— . . . dammit, I meant butt! Both Avery and Sam thought Laine and Hunter’s chemistry was off-the-charts hot, as did at least a million other fans.
My phone buzzed on my desk. I was amazed I heard it over the music and the diatribes coursing through my head. I picked it up to find it was Joan. I grinned. It was fitting she would call now. The first time I talked to her, she was in the same kind of dark mood I was in now. She had answered the phone, “What in the hell do you want?” I knew then she was the lawyer for me. She’d mistaken my number for her ex-boyfriend’s. We still laughed about it to this day. She had become a trusted friend and confidant. It was why she was my agent and lawyer. I learned quickly there were many willing to take advantage of you, and Joan could sniff them out in a nanosecond. And could she ever work out a deal.
I turned down my music and put her on speaker. “Hello,” I growled, not on purpose. It was a residual effect.
“Let me guess, you’re reading reviews again.”
I threw myself in my chair. “Guilty.”
“Why do you keep doing this to yourself?”
“I think I have impostor syndrome.”
She laughed a deep-throated laugh that matched her sultry alto voice perfectly. “What in the hell is that? And please tell me it’s not contagious.”
I rubbed my hands over my face. “I feel like one day everyone is going to figure out I have no idea what I’m doing, and they will all agree with the Graces of the world.”
“You know that’s a crock, right? Do you think everyone is given seven-figure advances? Thank you, by the way. My new Porsche loves me.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re welcome.”
“Oh, don’t get all high and mighty on me. I donated a nice sum to Sweet Feet.”
“You’re a saint,” I teased. “But, really, thank you.”
“Don’t get all sappy on me, kid.”
“You’re barely old enough to have given birth to me.”
“When you’re in your late forties, you can start calling everyone kid.”
I laughed at her. “Is there a reason for your call?”
“I just thought you would want to know that the first few chapters you sent to me were bloody brilliant.”
“Really?”
“I wouldn’t lie to you. You’re my meal ticket.”
“There’s that.”
“Del, get those haters’ voices out of your head. You’re the real deal. Those women with bad bangs who obviously have nothing better to do than read all day and criticize people while surrounding themselves with a million cats are lonely and miserable. You should feel sorry for them.”
I don’t know how she came up with bad bangs, but I appreciated her attempts to cheer me up. “Yeah, I’ll work on that.”
“Forget them. Way more people love your books than hate them. Don’t let the negative reviews outshine the overwhelming positive ones.”
“That’s what Peter says.”
“Listen to him.”
“I’ll try.”
“Now get back to work. I’m looking at a townhome on the Upper East Side today and it’s not cheap. Hugs and kisses.” She hung up.
I stared at my phone for a moment. Joan sparked a thought. I swiveled my chair so I was facing my computer.
“Hunter, there is a long list of people in this town who’ve never believed me or in me. I always hoped you would never be one of them. If you can’t trust my word by now, then maybe it’s time,” her voiced cracked, “that we finally prove to everyone they were right about us. We don’t belong together.”
My heart broke for Laine. A tear leaked down my cheek. Another chapter down. Now off to have lunch with Sam and Avery. At least one meal I ate today wouldn’t be cereal.
I stopped by a deli I frequented and picked up salads to take to the office where almost everyone in the Decker family worked. Though I wondered how long Sam would continue to do so. She only worked part time as it was, and now that the Sidelined Wife was so lucrative, it seemed to only be a matter of time before she quit. Not to mention she was planning a wedding. Well, sort of. Her mom was planning it and Sam was doing her best to put it off, which seemed odd. She and Reed were inseparable, and I thought for sure they would both be eager to tie the knot. I knew Reed wanted to sign that NDA, the one she mentioned in her most talked about post about making her next husband sign a non-disclosure agreement before he could see her naked. It was pure gold. Reed was ready to get down to business and was practically groping her at every family function whenever Cody wasn’t in their presence. Sam didn’t seem to mind one bit. Sometimes I wondered if . . . well . . . I wondered if Sam was going against her mother’s wishes and . . . let’s just say Sam was glowing a lot more the last few weeks and Reed was over-the-top happy. Peter said it was none of our business when I brought it up, and he didn’t want to think about his sister that way.
When I arrived at Decker and Sons Landscaping on the outskirts of Clearfield, the sleepy town we all lived in, my sisters-in-law looked relieved that I had bought lunch. No one, including me, trusted my cooking skills. Peter tried and was lucky I hadn’t given him food poisoning yet. It was bound to happen. My good husband and his brother were not there. Too bad. There was something about the way Peter looked when he was sweaty and dirty that was quite inspirational. I supposed I would have to wait until later that night to be inspired. Except he probably wouldn’t be home by the time I left to volunteer at the shelter before I headed to my “class.”
My cover for attending the RCIA classes with Father Alan was I was helping at a women’s shelter. Which was true. I always dropped off bags of food, clothing, and diapers before I headed to my class. Most of the time I also helped with things like writing resumes, organizing donations, playing with the children, even vacuuming if needed.
I guess missing Peter gave me something to look forward to tomorrow. I was going to need something since his family was all coming over to tour our home tomorrow night and have dessert—meaning store-bought ice cream, and if we got real fancy, hot fudge. There was a good chance I would burn that in the microwave, though.
Avery and Sam smiled at me when I arrived, and both got up to hug me. They were both huggers. It took me a while to get used to it, but now I found I looked forward to it, even if I tensed up every time we touched. It wasn’t in my nature, or was it that I wasn’t nurtured like that? Probably both. Peter was the exception. I melted into him after that awkward first date where he was the stiff one.
They both looked amazing. Sam had gotten a new shorter haircut that really made her dark curls standout. It was sexy and fun, and she had been exercising like crazy. She said she needed to get naked skinny. I would say mission accomplished. I was certain Reed didn’t care; he would take her in any shape or form. And by the way she was glowing, I had my aforementioned suspicions. Avery had just finished her third marathon and was looking fierce and fit with her blonde ponytail. She didn’t look old enough to have a senior in high school this year. You would never see me running a marathon unless my mother-in-law was chasing me with a sharp object. Maybe I should start training now.
“I’m sorry I’m a little late.” I placed the bag of food on Avery’s desk where we always ate. Right before I left, my assistant, Fiona, had asked for a teaser from the new book they could post on Autumn Moone’s site. She also sent me a mock-up of the cover. I didn’t love it and made suggestions.
“No worries.” Sam was taking containers out of the bag. “I know how busy you are, but I need your expert advice again.”
I took a seat at the desk and grabbed my strawberry avocado salad, trying to remember to smile and relax. I knew I would never be the amazing mom and wife they both were, but they had accepted me even though I was younger, unbridled, and at times prickly. I didn’t mean to be. It was a defense mechanism. But despite all of that, they liked me, even loved me and valued my opinions.
“What can I help you with?” I asked Sam.
Sam took the seat next to me while Avery sat across from us.
Sam blew out a heavy sigh. “I’ve had an interesting offer come my way.”
“More interesting than being a pinup girl in Fabulous over Forty?” She had even had an offer for a Real Housewives type show based in Chicago.
Avery and Sam both snorted.
“Maybe not that interesting,” Sam snickered, “but almost as scary as posing nude.”
My interest was piqued.
Sam took another deep breath. “One of the producers for Weekend Musings contacted me. At first, I assumed it was because they said as soon as my cookbook came out they would ask me on again. But,” she paused, “they want me to be a regular contributor,” she almost squealed.
Avery must have already known, as she didn’t react other than to pop some watermelon in her mouth. The news didn’t surprise me either. Her first appearance on the Saturday morning show was a smashing success. The hosts, Marla and Manny, ate her up. And like I said, Sam was hilarious and her new cookbook coming out in two weeks, Glorified Cookie Recipes and More, was going to be a hit. Sam had given me an advance copy, not because I would use any of the recipes, but because she was excited about it. Her wise words were sprinkled throughout, and the pictures of each recipe were stunning. I was proud to say I had contributed to that. Sam had shown me some initial drafts and they were trying too hard by embellishing each picture of food with plants, ribbons, and other things that didn’t belong on food, at least I was pretty sure they didn’t belong. I suggested to Sam that clean and simple was always best and it would take away from the message of the book if left as is. She mentioned it to her editors, who my editor may or may not know, and they changed it.
“What did you tell them?” I asked.
She pressed her lips together. “I told them I was flattered, but I would have to think about it.”
“And what do you think?” I smiled.
“Tell me what to think,” she begged.
No way was I doing that. She was a smart woman, and this was her choice. “What does Reed think?” I asked instead.
“Of course he thinks she should do it,” Avery jumped in. “I do too, for that matter.”
Sam gave Avery a smile that said you aren’t helping me.
“What are your concerns?” I stabbed a strawberry with my fork.
“Looking like a fool in front of everyone about sums it up.”
“The odds of that are extremely low based on your last appearance.” I tilted my head and studied her for a moment. “What are you really afraid of?”
Sam dropped her plastic fork; her gray eyes bore into my own. “How do you read people so well?”
That was a long answer rooted in being left alone a lot growing up. Other people’s lives became my focus. People on the bus, people in the shelter, people at school. I wondered what each of their stories were. Did they, too, wish for a life other than the one they had? Did they have real moms and dads? How did they end up where they were? Couples particularly fascinated me. That should have told me something. I was drawn to their interactions. Small touches and gestures, stolen glances, cold shoulders, and awkward conversations. During high school and college, I excelled at predicting who would hook up and who would break up, except when it came to myself. The one time I was wrong, did it ever cost me. My mind shut down that train of thought, just like I had conditioned it to.
I tucked some of my curls behind my ear. “It’s all in your body language.”
“Is it screaming how scared I am that I can do this?”
I tilted my head with an understanding smile. “The fear of success can be worse than failure.”
“Yes,” Sam lamented. “I feel like someone hit the fast-forward button on my life this past year and I haven’t had time to catch up or process. A year ago, I had a different last name and I was barely showering every day.”
“Now you’re changing your name again and you’re happier than you’ve ever been.”
“Samantha Cassidy does have a ring to it.” She blushed while staring down at her sparkling engagement ring. “Sometimes I wonder if this is all a dream.”
I could relate to Sam on so many levels. I stared down at my ring finger that was empty by choice. Peter and I had no money for rings when we got married and now that we had more money than we knew what to do with, I found I didn’t need the symbol. Peter was woven into my soul. I’d suggested tattoos with each other’s names around our wedding fingers, but Peter wasn’t too fond of that idea. I still might do it someday. Add it to my Peter collection. His name sat nicely inscribed in a crescent moon on the small of my back already. But there were times I wondered how I’d gotten here and if it would last. Not only did I feel like an impostor in my career, but in my marriage too.
So much of my life wasn’t how I imagined it would be. Growing up, I’d never had dreams of getting married and having children. My own mother, Cat, warned me against it on several occasions. She said she was lucky Ron never stole her identity. When I told her Peter and I were trying to have a baby a few months ago, she implored me to wait until I was at least forty. She said I owed it to myself to have a career first because I may not be so fortunate as to have such a self-sufficient child like I had been. I think it was her way of thanking me for not ruining her life. Because of her, I feared what kind of mother I would be. Peter had no doubt I would be a good mother. He said one of the reasons he fell in love with me was because of the way I loved and fiercely protected the students at the school where we met. And he said I never smiled so big as when our foundation received cute little thank-you letters written in crayon thanking us for the new shoes. Maybe, just maybe, my husband was right about me.
But we may never know. I inadvertently held my angry womb that was cramping. Stupid period started this morning.
“You deserve all of this,” Avery said to Sam, making me look up and focus back on the present.
I nodded in agreement. We’d all watched her go through hell and back when she found out that Neil was cheating on her and having a baby with another woman.
“Do you want to take this job?” I asked.
Sam bit her lip. “I do, but . . .”
“No buts,” I cut her off, “offers like this don’t come every day, and this is perfect for you and your platform.”
“But,” she wasn’t going to let this go, “I’d have to quit my job here,” she whispered. My father-in-law was in his office. He was doing more office work now since he’d strained his back a few months ago. He never came out when we got together for lunch. Too much femaleness for him, he said.
“We can hire a payroll service,” Avery suggested, “And I can take over invoicing.”
Sam still didn’t look convinced. “It’s early on Saturday and football season will be starting soon, so I’ll be up late every Friday night for a few months.”
Both Avery and I laughed at her.
Avery tossed a balled-up napkin at her. “You’re going to need a better excuse than that.”
Sam caught the napkin and shook her head at herself. “I know I’m grasping for straws here, but this is a big deal.”
I rested my hand on Sam’s shoulder. “It is, but so are you.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Where would I be without you two?”
“Probably grocery shopping or making out with Reed all day long,” Avery teased.
Sam grinned while a little sigh escaped her.
If only I could use Sam’s grocery shopping stories with Reed in my books. My fans would eat that up. I had to hand it to Reed, anybody who could make grocery shopping sound sexy had a gift. And there was no one who deserved that present more than Sam.
I took a bite of my salad and swallowed before asking Sam, “So, what will you be doing on the show?”
Her gray eyes lit up. “It sounds like I’ll do a cooking segment using recipes from my cookbook while talking about fun things like perimenopause, coping with life after divorce, raising teenagers, you know, fun stuff like that.” She grinned. “Oh, and my favorite books. We all know who’s at the top of my list. Speaking of which, I re-read Black Day Dawning again. I can’t get over how good it is.”
“Me too,” Avery squealed.
All I could do was pop a strawberry in my mouth.