Part 14 (2/2)
”You made quite an impression on Mr. Dalton,” Edward said as Brooke took a small sip of wine and contemplated the tiny mincemeat and shepherd pies that had been set out on the table. ”He and his daughter were absolutely thrilled with the princess picnic birthday party yesterday. In fact, I believe he'd like to hire you to handle some other things. Would you be open to that?” His brown eyes were warm, his smile friendly.
”Oh, yes.” Brooke felt her cheeks heat at the thought. Bruce Dalton's compliments and Edward Parker's confidence in her were a balm to her bruised and battered ego.
The Ritchie twins and their mother arrived, flas.h.i.+ng their identical smiles of h.e.l.lo. The feisty Mimi Davenport followed. Soon they were talking, heads bent, to Sadie Hopewell and Myra Mackelbaum.
The door opened and Samantha Davis entered. ”Hey,” she said with a smile that managed to include both Brooke and Edward Parker.
At a raised eyebrow from the concierge a gla.s.s of wine and a plate of appetizers were quickly placed in Samantha's hands. ”Thanks,” Samantha said easily, not at all surprised by the prompt attention. Together they headed toward the sofa, which Claire had already claimed.
”How did the party go yesterday?” Claire asked as they settled into their usual spots.
”Great,” Brooke said.
”And the doctor's move into the building?” Samantha asked.
”Well, fortunately I missed it,” Brooke replied. ”But we b.u.mped into them in the lobby this morning fresh from their run. Their exercise clothes are color coordinated. They looked like Workout Barbie and Marathon Ken.”
Samantha grimaced. ”I do not understand why that woman would want to live in the same building as her boyfriend's ex-wife.
”To rub Brooke's nose in it?” asked Claire.
”Her mere existence already does that,” Brooke said. ”And honestly, I don't see either of them wasting a moment's thought on me. I seem to be a nonent.i.ty in both of their minds.” Oh, G.o.d, was that her sounding so pathetic?
”It sucks,” Samantha agreed. ”But I think we should try our best to look at the positives in the situation.”
”Which are?” Brooke asked.
”Well, it's certainly going to make it more likely that Natalie and Ava will spend time with their father,” Samantha said.
”And the drop-off/pickup time will be way shorter,” Claire added.
”True,” Brooke agreed. And if she did find a job or accepted more projects for Private Butler, Zachary might be more flexible about taking the girls if they were just a floor away.
”The building's pretty s.p.a.cious,” Samantha pointed out. ”There are lots of people I never see coming or going.”
Brooke nodded, but she knew how these things worked. Just because she didn't want to see either of them she was bound to run into Barbie and Ken every time she stepped out of her apartment.
”Is everything okay with your brother?” Claire asked Samantha and Brooke realized that Samantha hadn't so much as mentioned him since the night two weeks ago when they'd argued in the hall.
”No, not really,” Samantha said, a frown creasing her forehead, something Zachary would have been quick to discourage.
Brooke waited for an explanation but that appeared to be it on the subject. Samantha Davis had proved surprisingly friendly and interested in her and Claire, but she didn't offer a lot of details about herself. Once again she deflected and turned the subject. ”You have a strange look on your face,” she said to Claire. ”Is everything okay?”
Claire drained her gla.s.s and set it on the c.o.c.ktail table, but she didn't go for another. Brooke had noticed that ever since the shandies, she'd been careful about her alcohol consumption. ”Yes.”
”But?”
Claire just looked at her.
”The way you said that it sounded like a disclaimer was coming,” Samantha said with a shrug.
Brooke nodded her agreement.
Claire sighed. ”Well, for one thing my book isn't moving forward anywhere near as quickly as I'd hoped.” She hesitated before continuing. ”And I've been asked to do a book signing Tuesday night at the Georgia Tech B&N.”
”But that's good, right?” Brooke asked, not understanding why Claire seemed so uncomfortable. ”Isn't that how authors promote a new book?”
”Yes,” Claire said. ”But my last book came out more than a year ago. The only reason they asked me is because LeaAnn La.r.s.en had to cancel at the last minute.”
”I think I've heard of her,” Samantha said. ”She's a pretty big name, isn't she?”
Claire nodded, her expression glum.
”I love her books,” Brooke said. ”Those Navy SEALs are . . . dreamy.”
”I know,” Claire said. ”My daughter used to devour them. But I don't write Navy SEALs past, present, or future. I write romances set in seventeenth-century Scotland.”
”So why is this happening?” Samantha asked.
”We're with the same publisher, although, that's kind of like saying we're both cars when I'm a PT Cruiser and LeaAnn La.r.s.en is a Rolls-Royce. But somehow the store thinks any author is better than no author.”
”And you don't think so,” Brooke said.
Claire shook her head. ”LeaAnn La.r.s.en's fans are bound to be royally p.i.s.sed off. And it's not like I have fans that are going to show up with only two days' warning. My local audience lives out in the suburbs and seems to have an aversion to driving through the 'circle of fire' that is Highway 285 to come in town.”
Samantha laughed. ”I'm sure you must have fans ITP.” She used the term for inside the perimeter.
”Well, there may be some. But I'm not exactly a household name. Had you ever read or even heard of either of my books before we met?”
”No,” Samantha conceded.
”Me, either,” Brooke admitted. ”But I'd like to read you. I've never known a real published author before.”
”Good,” Claire said drily. ”If you're not busy Tuesday night, you two can come circle the wagons around me and protect me from the angry La.r.s.en fans.”
”Of course we will,” Samantha said as Edward Parker moved toward the front of the room. The chatter began to die down.
”Absolutely,” Brooke added. ”We'll both be there. And, who knows, maybe those La.r.s.en fans will give your books a try and realize what they've been missing.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
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