Not Quite Over You

Silver sipped her nonalcoholic mimosa. “Yes, well, I have that covered. I’m taking on a business partner. Drew bought the trailers and he’s going to be a minority owner in the company.”

Those who didn’t know her history with Drew looked relieved. Pallas and Natalie, on the other hand, stared at her with identical looks of disbelief. Wynn’s smile was a combination of smug and I-told-you-so.

Renee groaned. “I hate being the new girl. What am I missing?”

“Drew and I have a past.” Silver shrugged. “We dated some in high school.”

Pallas rolled her eyes. “Dated some? Is that what we’re calling it? You didn’t date some. You two were the hot item. You nearly set the town on fire.” She sighed. “It was so romantic. And then Drew went to college and was a total butthead.”

“We broke up before he went,” Silver said mildly. “Although I appreciate the name-calling.”

“He wasn’t supposed to fall for someone else, but he did. He brought that snooty bitch home and everything.”

“There was a snooty bitch?” Carol asked. “Why didn’t I know about that?”

“Welcome to my world,” Renee murmured.

“She was awful,” Pallas continued. “I can never remember her name.”

“Ashley Lauren Grantham-Greene.”

“She sounds very hateable,” Natalie said.

Pallas nodded vigorously. “She was so awful. They were engaged and I can’t for the life of me figure out why. When Drew broke things off, she set his house on fire.”

“It was his car,” Silver corrected, trying not to smile at the memory. The engagement had been hard on her, but the fire had gone a long way to easing her broken heart. “Pallas, you always say the house, but it was his car.”

“Whatever. I still hate her.”

“Serves him right,” Natalie announced. “How could he not stay in love with you?”

“It’s a mystery.”

Renee looked at her. “It’s nice that you’ve moved on and become good enough friends that you can work together. He will bring a business acumen that balances nicely with your creativity and knowledge about the industry.”

Before Silver could respond, one of the gazelles walked toward them. She was slim and beautiful with huge eyes. She seemed to study them for a second before moving away.

“That was Bronwen,” Carol said. “She’s pretty tame, but she’s never gotten this close to us before. I wonder if it’s something we’re eating.”

“Or drinking,” Wynn said, waving the mimosa. “These are delicious.”

Silver watched the gazelle disappear into the bushes and wondered how to tell her friends the rest of the story. Not that it was complicated, she just wasn’t sure how to begin.

She sucked in a breath and told herself they would love her regardless. Wynn already knew and had never judged her. Just as important, her friends might have some good advice for getting through the mess she’d sort of, maybe created.

“I got pregnant,” she blurted.

Everyone turned to look at her. Several gazes dropped to her stomach. Only Wynn didn’t look surprised.

“When?” Pallas asked.

“Back in high school.” Silver told herself to just get it out there. “I knew Drew was heading off to college and that everything would be different for him when he was gone. I didn’t want him to think he owed me anything, so I broke up with him. I think I was secretly hoping he would quit school in a couple of weeks and come home to be with me.”

“Which didn’t happen,” Wynn said gently.

“No, it didn’t. About a month after he’d left, I figured out I was pregnant. I told my uncle and he asked me what I wanted to do. I decided to go see Drew and tell him face-to-face.”

“Because you thought he would say he loved you and wanted to marry you,” Renee said softly.

“Something like that.”

Carol’s eyes widened. “And?”

“And I told him and he proposed.”

Pallas’s mouth dropped open. “How could I not know this? You married Drew and you never told me? OMG! I can’t believe it. When? Where? You have a baby?”

Silver held up her hand. “We didn’t get married. I could tell he’d only proposed because he thought he should. He didn’t love me anymore and he certainly didn’t want to marry me.”

She told herself she could say the words without feeling anything. Time had passed and she was a completely different person now, as was Drew. She’d grown up, moved on, and he wasn’t on her radar as anyone but a business partner.

“What did you do?” Natalie asked, her voice soft.

“I told him I would have the baby and give it up for adoption. He signed the paperwork and that was that.”

No one looked convinced by that last statement. Wynn made a circular “go on” sign with her hand.

“My uncle helped me find a nice couple in Los Angeles who wanted to adopt. I went to meet them and liked them a lot. In fact I moved in with them my last few months.”

“That’s where you went!” Pallas sounded triumphant. “I knew you were off doing something but I always assumed you joined a biker gang.”

“Really? A biker gang? Have you ever seen me on a motorcycle?”

“No, but you’d look good on one.”

Silver laughed. “Thank you. Anyway I had the baby and came back here, only I couldn’t seem to get my life together.”

“You were still in love with Drew,” Carol said.

“I was. Eventually I got over him.” She smiled. “Ashley Lauren Grantham-Greene helped. Or maybe it was the car fire. Regardless, I moved on, but...”

She wasn’t sure how to explain what had happened. “Before I figured it all out, I was pretty lost. I ended up going back to LA and living with the couple who adopted Autumn. They eventually divorced, but I stayed close to Leigh, Autumn’s mom. Drew knows about the baby and that I gave her up, but nothing else. Not that I’m still in touch with her.” She paused. “She’s eleven.”

Pallas’s eyes widened. “Oh no, no, no. Your daughter being eleven isn’t the big deal, is it? That’s not why you’re telling us this.” She stared at Renee. “The Great Gatsby wedding.”

Renee’s mouth dropped open. “No way.” She spun to stare at Silver. “Seriously?”

“What are you talking about?” Carol demanded.

Pallas pressed a hand to her chest. “I can’t believe it, but I’m right, aren’t I?” She drew in a breath. “A couple of weeks ago, we had a couple cancel their wedding. It’s too late to do much in the way of refunding them money. Too much had already been ordered. The theme is The Great Gatsby—not my favorite book, but the era is gorgeous and they had such cute ideas for the event.”

“Did they break up?” Bethany asked.

“No. She got pregnant and they eloped. They had thought there would be fertility issues so they were thrilled to be having a baby. Not twenty-four hours later a woman called and asked if there was any chance she could have a wedding this fall. I told her about the cancellation and she was all in.” Pallas returned her attention to Silver. “Her name is Leigh and she has a daughter named Autumn and they’re coming here.”

“I know. I’m going to be the maid of honor.”

Her friends all stared at her. Natalie recovered first. “Just to recap, you and Drew had a baby together and while you gave up the baby for adoption, you stayed close with your daughter and the adoptive mother. All these years later, you’re still close, so close that you’re going to be in the wedding, which is being held here, in town, where you and Drew both live, with the adoptive mother and your daughter with Drew and he doesn’t know a thing. Oh, and you just went into business with him. Do I have that right?”

Things sounded even worse when put like that, Silver thought, not sure if she should laugh or learn to ride a motorcycle and take off on a long road trip.

“That’s pretty much it,” Silver told her. “Except for the part where I’m keeping Autumn for a week or so while her mom goes off on her honeymoon.”

Bethany leaned forward. “Your daughter with Drew, the one he doesn’t know about, is going to be here? In Happily Inc? For a week? With you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Chances are he’s going to notice,” Wynn told her. “I’m just saying.”

“Yes, that’s what I thought, too.”

“So you’re going to have to tell him.”

Something Silver really didn’t want to think about. “That seems to be the most sensible plan.”

Natalie winced. “Um, good luck with that.”

“Thanks.”

Renee picked up her drink. “Amazing. And here I thought life in a small town would be boring.”

* * *

DESPITE LIVING UP in the mountains, Jasper Dembenski didn’t mind New York City. For him the noise quickly faded into the background, and the constant rush of people, cars and buses made it easy to blend in. The street layout made sense to him and he enjoyed walking blocks at a time, rather than taking a cab. And if getting crammed into an elevator with too many people ever got to him, he retreated to the comical irony of his life. He’d been an average kid who had grown up in a town in Montana no one had ever heard of, yet here he was, staying at the Peninsula Hotel and being wined and dined by his publisher. Who would have thought?

He went into the building, signed in with the security guard, then made his way to the bank of elevators. His editor, Sara, a petite, dark-haired woman in her late thirties, met him when he stepped out onto the twenty-second floor.

“You made it,” she said with a smile. “How was your flight?”

“Good. Easy.”

From Happily Inc he could drive to Los Angeles, Phoenix or Las Vegas, and then take a plane pretty much anywhere he wanted. For his trip to New York, he’d chosen to go through Los Angeles. His publisher always booked him first class and put him up at a fancy hotel. There was little to complain about.

“Hank’s already here,” Sara told him. “In the conference room.”

The first time he’d visited his publisher’s offices, he hadn’t known what to expect. He discovered that they were offices, kind of like every other business. Junior employees worked in cubicles and those higher on the food chain had nice private offices with windows. Instead of artwork, there were posters of book covers everywhere, and a gallery of author head shots. Pretty much every bit of wall space had bookshelves overflowing with books, but otherwise, there was little to distinguish this space from, say, an insurance broker.

Paper manuscripts had gone the way of the dinosaur—authors submitted digitally and were edited the same way. Copy edits were done with track changes, as were final page proofs. Cover art, from concept to finished product, was emailed. Jasper had started his writing career with a pad and pencil but had quickly learned if he was going to get serious, he had to work on a computer. Now he couldn’t imagine creating any other way.

“We’re all excited about the book you’re working on,” Sara said, leading him toward one of the conference rooms.

He chuckled. “Is that your not-so-subtle way of asking if I’m going to deliver the book on time?”

Sara smiled. “No, but now that you mention it...” She motioned him into a small conference room. “How is the book going?”

“I’m on track. I should be done in plenty of time.”

“That’s exactly what I want to hear.”

He walked in and shook hands with his agent. Hank was a small, thin man pushing fifty. His unassuming appearance belied his killer instinct. They’d met at the first writer’s conference Jasper had attended. He’d entered a contest where the finalists had their pages read by a New York agent. Hank was way too powerful to judge contests or bother with conferences, but when a junior agent at his firm had been too sick to attend, Hank had volunteered to go in her place. Jasper had won the contest, Hank had read the pages and signed him within a week.

“You made it,” Hank said as they sat down. “Everything good on your flight and with the hotel?”

“Couldn’t be better.”

When Jasper had sold his first book, he’d still been fairly messed up from his time in the army. PTSD, brought on by years of fighting overseas, had a way of doing that to a person. He’d agreed to go on a book tour before realizing what that meant. The itinerary—flying all over the country to speak at bookstores and then sign books—had terrified him. Crowds were tough and airports had been impossible. They’d compromised by spreading out the events and having him drive himself from city to city.

Over the years, he’d gotten better. Flying would never be fun, but he could do it. The same with speaking to a large group. The signings were easy because he liked meeting his readers. But while he’d relaxed into the process, Sara and Hank always monitored him, as if concerned he was going to have an episode at any second. He supposed he was enough of a jerk to kind of enjoy their tension.

One of the assistants brought in coffee. Sara waited until he’d left before speaking.

“You’d mentioned this was the second to the last book in the series,” she began. “Next year you’ll write the last book, then start something new.”

Jasper nodded. “I’ve been playing around with an idea for a military series.”

Hank and Sara glanced at each other. “We’re excited about the idea,” Hank told him. “Are you ready to write it?”

Jasper didn’t think he would ever be ready, but he was starting to think it was time. He’d already created the main character—an amalgamation of three guys he’d known back in Afghanistan. Three good men who had been killed. He wanted to tell their stories without violating their privacy. Creating one character that took the best of each of them solved the problem.

“I’ve got a good handle on what I want to do,” Jasper said. “I’m thinking of an open-ended series. Military crimes, some with a civilian connection.”

Sara’s eyes brightened. “We would love that. You’re the best at what you do. Just to be clear, next year you’ll write the last book in your current series, and then you’ll start the new series after that.”

“Yes.”

Hank leaned forward. “Vidar needs a love interest.”

Jasper resisted rolling his eyes. “So you’ve told me.”

“Hank’s right,” Sara added. “It’s time. You have female readers who adore you, but come on. You need a fully realized woman in one of your books. One who is more than a one-night stand or a victim. It will help you grow as a writer. Vidar falling in love will make readers bond with him more and bring the series to a satisfying conclusion.”

A conversation they’d had before. Jasper knew the argument. Vidar, his ongoing hero, was too one-dimensional. He needed a personal life. A deeper backstory. Less grunts and more conversation.

His argument that the character borrowed heavily from the Norse mythology—the son of Odin and a giantess named Grid, Vidar was silent and known for his physical strength and therefore was unchangeable—was wearing thin.

What he didn’t tell them and would barely admit to himself was his resistance wasn’t about the story. He knew they were right in their assessment of his story arc. The problem was him—he wasn’t sure he knew how to write a woman and he sure as hell couldn’t figure out how anyone fell in love.

“I’ll see what he can do,” he told them.

“Excellent.” Hank nodded. “Now Sara has some interesting ideas about next year’s tour.”

Sara smiled. “I hope you’re going to be excited. We want to do something different.”

Their idea of exciting and his had little in common, he thought, but nodded to show he was willing to listen.

Sara leaned toward him. “We want to send you to Europe. All your publishers there are clamoring to see you. England, France, Spain, Italy and of course Germany.”

“You’re huge in Germany,” Hank reminded him.

“We’re hoping for three weeks.” Her tone was cautious. “If you think you could manage that.”

He’d never been to Europe, he thought. Never thought he’d go. He was fairly sure his passport was out-of-date, but that was easily rectified.

“Make it four weeks so I can have a day or two off in each of the countries,” he told them. “I’d like to look around and see a few things.”

“Excellent.” Sara jotted on her pad of paper. “Now about the US tour. We really want to push the book and have you visit as many of the accounts as possible.” She smiled. “Before you glower at me, we’ve come up with what we think is the perfect solution.”

She pulled a large, glossy brochure from under the pad and handed it to him. Jasper looked at the cover and started to laugh. “Seriously?”

The picture showed a luxury RV on a highway. He turned the page and saw a layout along with a list of amenities.

Sara’s expression was hopeful. “We’d take care of renting the trailer and booking your trailer sites or camping spaces or whatever they’re called. In the big cities like Chicago and St. Louis, you’d leave the trailer parked at the site and stay at a hotel for a couple of days. But most of the time you’d be on your own, driving from place to place. No escort, no airports, no rush. What do you think?”

“How long would you want me to be on tour?”

She worried her lower lip. “Three months?”

It was a long time to be gone, but it wasn’t as if he had a lot waiting for him at home. He thought briefly of Wynn, but theirs was a casual relationship—no promises, no strings. He’d left Happily Inc three days ago and he hadn’t heard from her. He would be gone another couple of weeks and they wouldn’t be in touch until he was home. Like he’d first thought—he was free to do what he wanted.

“Let’s do it,” he told Sara. “I’ll use the road time to get my last book in the series figured out, then go home and write it.”

Hank grinned. “Fantastic. Your sales are going to go through the roof.”

Jasper nodded as if that mattered to him as well, but in truth, the writing was a lot more about keeping the demons at bay and his ability to look himself in the mirror than about any royalty check. The writing had saved him when he’d thought nothing could. Without his stories, he wouldn’t be here today—of that he was sure.

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