Dedicated to the One I Love, page 7
Joe pressed his lips together.
Kylie tilted her head. “Are you … are you counting to ten?”
“In French. It’s the only thing I remember from high school French class.”
Kylie grinned. “I took Spanish.”
“Of course you did.”
“I didn’t take Spanish to annoy you—I didn’t even know you back then.”
Joe gripped his white coffee mug with the Top of the Day Coffee Shop logo, convinced Kylie Franklin would have gone out of her way to annoy him if they’d known each other in high school. “Let me explain how my books work. There is one hero in a Tate Merrick novel—”
“You’ve already said that, Joe.” Kylie rested her hand on top of his for just a moment. “My question is why can’t there be two?”
“Because there is one.”
“Evangeline isn’t the mega hero. She’s more like a secondary hero. Remington retains his superhero status.”
“He’s not a superhero.”
“I don’t mean the guy wears a cape.”
“Are you trying to frustrate me?”
“If it somehow gets you to be more openminded about this book, then yes.”
Talking to Kylie right now was like trying to talk to his sweet Aunt Janice. She knew what she knew, and nothing you said was going to change her mind. And all the while you tried to change her mind, she smiled at you oh so lovingly, just like Kylie was doing right now. Not that Kylie loved him. Secretly, Joe was beginning to wonder if this woman wanted to destroy his career.
“You seem to forget the plot for Lethal Strike has been approved by my editors. I’m not rewriting it for you and some heroine you’ve created.”
“Not really.”
“What do you mean ‘not really’?”
“If the plot had been approved, why was I asked to write romance for the book?”
“To reach more readers!” Joe slammed his other hand on the table. “You know this!”
“Which means we have to expand the plot.” Again with the Aunt Janice smile. “And you know as well as I do that when you knock over one domino in a story, you knock over other dominoes.”
“Dominoes?”
“D-o-m-i-n-o-e-s. Story elements. You change one part, you affect other parts of the plot. You bring in a new character and that affects the whole book.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“This?” She motioned between them. “Discovering that, besides being intelligent and funny, you’re stubborn and opinionated? Nope. Not really enjoying it. Brainstorming a new story idea with you? I thought that could be fun.”
“I’m stubborn and opinionated? What about you?”
“What about me, Joe?”
“You’re just as stubborn and opinionated as I am. And you’re … you’re … ”
“I’m what?”
“Nothing.”
“I’m nothing.” What little light there was inw Kylie’s eyes dimmed even more. “Thanks for that.”
This whole conversation had spun out of control like some crazy jam session where the musicians follow the music wherever it leads. It started off balanced with Kylie’s laughter, and then she’d said he was intelligent and funny before tossing in the more discordant notes of opinionated and stubborn.
So was she.
Her brown eyes had lit up when she’d started discussing the book, her wavy hair brushing against her bare shoulders as she’d smiled at him. What he’d wanted to say was “ … and you’re prettier than I’d imagined.”
But he’d stick with stubborn and opinionated.
CHAPTER 6
The smooth surface of Palmer Lake reflected the columbine blue sky overhead, dotted with a few puffy white clouds. A breeze stirred the air, while the voices of several people who’d come early to paddleboard broke the stillness of the Sunday morning.
“You’re quiet.” Dylan nudged Kylie with her elbow as they walked the path around the lake.
“I’m thinking.”
“I figured that. Want to think out loud, maybe?”
“I submitted a synopsis and a chapter to Joe’s editor and agent before I went to church last night.”
“That’s great.”
“And to Joe.”
“That makes sense—I guess. You weren’t required to do that, were you?”
“No. I could have waited until the entire manuscript was finished to show them anything, but I wanted them to see where I’m headed with the story.” Kylie shrugged. “He’s going to hate it.”
“He, who? Joe’s editor?”
“No. Joe’s going to hate it.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do. The guy hates the whole idea of adding romance to his precious book. I also ran my idea past him when we met earlier this week.”
“He hated it—isn’t that a bit strong?”
“He told me, and I quote, ‘Do I have to remind you that there’s one hero in a Tate Merrick novel and that his name is Remington Gerard?’”
Dylan slid her sunglasses to the top of her short black hair. “He’s right about that.”
“Not you too!” Kylie stopped on the path that wound around the lake. “I know how Joe writes his novels. I’ve read one, remember?”
“You finished it?”
“Yes—and please stay on the subject. I want to make the heroine courageous too. Why can’t Evangeline—that’s her name—be more than just a love match for Remington Gerard?”
“Oooh, I love her name.”
“I’ll tell Joe that.”
“He hated her name too?”
“If I suggest it, you can be certain Joe Edwards is going to hate it.” Kylie clenched her fists. “It’s like we’re in a writing tug of war about Lethal Strike.”
Wait. Was Dylan hiding a smile?
“What’s so funny?”
“You and Joe—the way you spark off each other.”
“It’s more like a brush fire than a spark. I haven’t second-guessed my writing like this in years. Do you know I read that chapter twice before I sent it off last night—and that was after I read it and the synopsis twice the day before.” She stopped as Dylan laughed. “I’m glad you think this is funny.”
“Don’t you?”
“No.”
“You’ve certainly taken your relationship to a whole new level.”
“I don’t think our email friendship will survive this.”
“You never know. His editor will probably love your ideas.”
“Doesn’t matter if Joe doesn’t.”
“He has veto power then?”
“Probably not … ”
“Then Joe just needs to get over himself.”
Kylie moved down the path. “It’s a difficult enough day without having to worry about Joe Edwards liking what I wrote.”
“You mean because the Realtor’s coming later?”
“Linda? No … because today’s Andrew’s birthday.”
Dylan stopped. Faced her. “Kylie! I knew that. I did. I mark it on my calendar every year so I remember. We just got talking about other things … ”
Kylie rested her hand on Dylan’s arm. “I appreciate walking with you this morning. I didn’t want to sit at home.” She faced the lake. “We used to love to come here.”
Dylan embraced her with a side hug. “You two did so much outdoors. Hiking. Camping. Skiing.”
“We did. Colorado has so many opportunities to get outdoors. And Andrew was all about the next adventure. Sometimes it felt like I was trying to keep up.” She took off her sunglasses and rubbed her eyes. “I didn’t mean that.”
“It’s okay if you did.”
“I was the introvert. The reader. The writer. Andrew was the techy guy, but he was a people person too. And a bit of an adrenaline junkie.” She shrugged. “I-I’m not complaining.”
One did not complain about her dead husband on his birthday.
“I didn’t say you were.”
“After reading one of Joe’s books, I understand why Andrew liked Remington Gerard. Andrew would have loved to be that guy. Instead, he got a cat named after him.”
“Andrew loved his life with you.”
“And I loved him.”
She could love Andrew and realize their relationship wasn’t perfect, right? That didn’t mean she loved him less. The year before he’d died had been difficult for them both. Their usual closeness marred with distance. Kylie twisted her wedding rings around her finger. One day she’d take the rings off. But not today. She couldn’t celebrate her husband by removing such a tangible sign of their marriage.
A few hours later, Kylie opened her front door and greeted Linda, who swept into the house with all the poise and authority of a top-selling Realtor. Dressed in a form-fitting fuchsia dress with black heels, her honey-colored hair styled in short braids, makeup highlighting her deep brown eyes, Linda greeted her even as she scanned the open layout of the living room and dining room.
“I’m excited to meet you, Kylie. You have a great house here. I think it would sell quickly.”
“If I decide to sell.”
“Right—if you decide to sell. Why don’t we do a casual walk-through so I can get an idea of the overall layout? Then we can sit and talk.”
“As I mentioned on the phone when we spoke a few weeks ago, I’m not sure if I want to—” Kylie knew she was repeating herself, but Linda’s take-charge attitude was a bit overwhelming.
“Of course. No pressure. But I’d like to see your house—just in case.”
“Sure.” Kylie motioned to the main living area. “Living room and the dining room. I like how open it is. Leads right into the kitchen with a small breakfast nook. Everything, including the carpet, sad to say, is original with the house.”
Linda pulled out an iPad, powering it up. “I created a file on your house. It was built in 2000. Thirty-five hundred square feet. Three bedrooms. Two and a half baths. Finished walkout basement, which means someone could always add at least another bedroom. Always a huge selling point—if you decide to sell.”
“Yes, the owners before us did that. And I use one of the main floor bedrooms as my office.”
“Versatility. Another selling point.”
Linda’s “casual” walk-through lasted a good half hour as she opened closets, asked questions, and tapped notes into her iPad. When they returned to the living room, she declined Kylie’s offer of water, but requested a chance to look at the side deck.
“That’s definitely something you’d need to deal with.”
“Even if I don’t put the house on the market, I already have someone giving me an estimate to repaint the deck.”
“Smart.”
Linda was pressuring her—in the most professional way possible. Yes, there were things Kylie needed to deal with, but it was like Linda had pulled out a flashlight, white gloves, and a magnifying glass.
“Of course, I can also show you homes you might be interested in buying … ” Linda paused, waiting for Kylie to supply details on where she was thinking of purchasing a new home. But she wasn’t ready to provide the Realtor with that information. Not yet. Maybe never.
“Why don’t I go back to my office and draw up a preliminary list of things I’d recommend you do to sell this house at an optimal price? I’ll do some market research and see what other houses in this area are selling for too.”
“Fine.”
“In the meantime, here’s my card.” Linda produced a large magnetic photo card out of her bag. “You can just put that on your fridge for now. No worries about misplacing that.”
“None at all.”
Linda tapped the corner of the card. “It also has a QR code you can scan to download all my information right into your phone.”
“I see that.”
“I’m off.” Linda slipped her iPad into her leather briefcase. “You have a lovely home. I’m certain it would sell quickly.”
“Thanks for coming.”
Kylie shut the door on the bright-colored whirlwind that was Linda. From the side window, Kylie could see the woman stop halfway down the sidewalk. Turn. Remove her iPad and take photos of her house.
Her home.
Linda saw a potential sale. She was probably already calculating her possible commission.
Kylie leaned against the closed door. What did she expect? She’d invited Linda to discuss putting her house on the market. The Realtor had done just that. After all, selling homes was her job. Her livelihood. If Kylie sold this house, she’d need to buy another house. Win-win.
What would Andrew say?
Wait. Andrew didn’t have a say anymore.
…
Joe’s routine was off—and it wasn’t because it was a Monday. He didn’t want to admit it but could no longer dodge the truth. After five months, he and Kylie had established a fun email relationship—something he’d anticipated each day. Then he’d succumbed to peer pressure—thank you, Mallory!—and ruined it when he’d discovered Kylie was Veronica Hollins, romance writer extraordinaire, the woman he was in an unwelcome business relationship with.
Since the cookout fiasco, not to mention the failed attempt to smooth things over with Kylie at coffee five days ago, every morning started with a do I or don’t I debate about sending Kylie an email, which ended in the decision not to send an email.
Even CrossFit was not as much fun because Mallory always apologized for suggesting Joe meet Kylie. Every time, he reminded Mallory it wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t forced him to invite Kylie to the cookout. But Tucker would laugh and say Mallory was at least partially to blame, and then Mallory would look like she wanted to cry.
This issue was upsetting the three Musketeers to the point that Joe considered avoiding the gym to stop the ripple effect. Kylie Franklin could unsettle him personally and professionally, but the woman had no right messing with the Musketeers. Not even Cassidy had done that.
Joe sat on the edge of his bed and scratched his scruffy jaw. He needed a shave, but he wasn’t motivated to do much of anything today.
He retrieved his phone from the bedside table. He’d missed a text from Liza ten minutes ago.
You available to talk?
He typed back a quick yes. His phone rang a few seconds later.
“Hi—sorry, I just saw your text.”
“Having a good Monday?”
“I could complain—”
“But I won’t let you.” Liza laughed. “Checked your email lately?”
“Haven’t been on my computer yet today.”
“Veronica sent a synopsis and the first chapter for us to read.”
“Great.” Joe knew that one word contained no enthusiasm whatsoever.
“Joe, what is your problem?”
“Nothing.”
“Exactly. You can’t have a problem with what Veronica sent because you haven’t read anything yet. Do that now and then call me back.” A sharp tsk came across the phone. “Wait. I have a meeting in an hour, so leave a message if you need to.”
“Got it.”
Liza had given him assigned reading for the day. He was looking forward to this project as much as he used to look forward to a middle school science fair project. Mom always declared them “Dad projects.” Meaning Dad chose what Joe would do, and his standards were more exacting than the teacher’s.
Joe stood. He’d go for a run and then get to it. He already knew Kylie’s basic idea. Now he’d have specifics to share with Liza about why what she wrote wouldn’t work.
Maybe they’d fire Kylie from the project.
Liza called Joe three hours later as Joe sat in front of his laptop, rereading the chapter. “You haven’t called me. Have you read what Veronica sent?”
“Just finished the chapter for the second time.”
“Like it that much?”
“It doesn’t work for me.” He’d known that after the first reading, but saying he’d read the chapter twice would prove he’d given Kylie a chance.
“How can you say that? I loved Evangeline! And Veronica’s managed to weave her into your writing style so well.”
“I can say it doesn’t work for me because I know where Veronica’s going with this.”
“And how can you know that after reading one chapter?”
“Because we met and discussed it—”
“You met Veronica? Wait a minute … what am I missing?”
How had he forgotten Liza didn’t know about the Veronica Hollins–Kylie Franklin connection?
“As crazy as it sounds, I’ve been emailing Kylie Franklin, also known as Veronica Hollins, for five, almost six, months.”
“You met Kylie Franklin—Veronica Hollins—on a dating app?”
“No! We met on Words with Friends.” Joe stood and walked away from his laptop. He needed something to drink. “You do remember I dated Cassidy Warrington for eighteen months, right? And that we broke up a year ago? I don’t do dating apps.”
“No, you just meet up-and-coming country stars at fundraisers.”
“Whatever. Kylie and I met face-to-face for the first time over Memorial Day weekend and that’s when we found out we’re both authors.”
“You didn’t discuss careers before then?”
He pulled a can of soda from the fridge. “We didn’t talk about personal stuff.”
“And you didn’t read the details of the contract addendum when I sent it over?”
Guilty.
“I usually do. Every single line. But this time I auto-signed it. I was in a rush to send it back to you.”
“You mean you were in a huff about Veronica Hollins wanting her name on the cover.” Liza’s tone held a hint of laughter.
“Whatever. We’re past that.”
“Backing up—you and Kylie met and realized the Tate Merrick and Veronica Hollins connection. Then you met again … ”
“And Kylie told me that she wanted to make the romantic interest more of a lead. I reminded her there’s one hero in my novels. I don’t want this Evangeline character stealing Remington Gerard’s limelight.”
