Loretta waved that off. “Work, shmerk. You have time for a cup of coffee. Everyone has time for that. Let me order, and I’ll be right back.”
Kate started to protest, but Loretta was already at the counter, handing the cashier a bookmark as she ordered a caramel latte. She heard Loretta telling the poor barista all about her new book, but Kate tuned the words out and refocused on her computer. She started a new file for Trent’s book and began filling out the outline with some thoughts. She was about to title the first chapter when she heard her name being called.
“Kate! Kate!” Loretta waved at her. “I was just telling Carl here that you’re an author in the making. He didn’t know you wrote. I told him you have a novel in you that’s waiting to come out, like a butterfly in chrysalis.”
“Cool, dude.” The aforementioned Carl nodded. His bleached hair hung in shoulder-length dreads, topped by a rainbow beanie. “I wanna write someday too. Poems, mostly. Like dark stuff about the moon and planets.”
“Uh…that’s great.” Kate didn’t want to have this conversation, because all she had was a caterpillar of a novel, languishing in a dusty drawer of her desk. Three chapters that hadn’t grown by a single word in years.
Loretta grabbed her order and hurried over to the table again. Kate would’ve told her to leave, but Loretta had also ordered cookies, and if there was one thing Kate needed right now, it was sugar. “Are these chocolate chunk?” Kate asked.
“Of course. Us girls need to have our chocolate. Am I right or am I right?” Loretta nudged the plate in Kate’s direction.
They weren’t just chocolate chunk cookies, they were warmed chocolate chunk cookies, with ooey goodness in every bite. Kate ate a third of the first one in a single chomp. The sugar hit her palate, and the tension in her shoulders eased a degree.
“So, dish,” Loretta said, her voice all high and friendly. “What has happened to you since college? Did you get married? Buy a minivan? Have five kids?”
Kate let out a little laugh. She loved her quiet, predictable life, but deep down she wondered if she was missing out by being alone and almost forty. “No to all of the above. I’ve done some freelance magazine writing, and the ghostwriting. That’s pretty much it. Nothing too exciting.”
“Oh, well.” Loretta’s long, dramatic sigh had a distinct pity ring. “As long as you’re happy.”
Kate was happy, wasn’t she? Sure, her life revolved around her cat and her grandmother, but there was nothing sad about that. Exactly. She ate another bite of cookie. “I’m just happy to be paid to do what I love to do.”
“Which is write other people’s books.” Loretta’s face pinched. “I gotta tell you, Kate, I don’t know how you do it. Isn’t that terribly…dull?”
“Sometimes. But some clients are a challenge, and I love that. The project I’m working on now will be a challenge, to be sure, which will keep me on my toes.” An understatement of epic proportions. Trent was unlikely to be the diva Gerard had been or the dictator the actress from last year had been. The challenge was entirely on Kate’s end to stop thinking about how tempting he looked and whether his kiss would be as amazing as she remembered.
Now the first cookie was all gone, and Kate’s nerves were still a jumble. Loretta hadn’t touched so much as a crumb, and Kate had had a very bad day thus far, so she justified nibbling—okay, biting deep into—the second cookie.
“Oh, do tell.” Loretta lowered her voice to a whisper and leaned in. “I won’t tell anyone. I swear.”
How Kate wanted to unburden the entire insane story to someone. Just vent about her complicated feelings for Trent and how her heart tripped at the thought of working closely with him. How part of her wanted to run away and avoid him, and how seeing him again had aggravated a scar she’d thought healed long ago. If not for the things she wanted to do to help Grandma Wanda and the need for extravagant things like shelter and food, she would have walked away from the contract.
“I really can’t say anything,” Kate said, while the complex truth bubbled at the top of her throat. “Nondisclosure and all that.”
Loretta sipped at her latte and peered at Kate over the rim. “It sounds like a spy operation when you put it like that.”
“It’s nothing that sinister.” Kate laughed. “Only business.”
“Well, darn, because then you could write your own mystery novel.” Loretta looked down at the empty plate. “Well. Someone’s having a rough day.”
“Sorry.” Kate tried to give Loretta an apologetic smile around the last bite. “I should have shared.”
Loretta waved at her. “You go on and have all the cookies, Kate. Sometimes us girls just need a little sugar.”
A little? Kate would have eaten every single dessert in the glass case if she could have. Maybe after Loretta left, she could order another cookie. Or five.
“Oh! I forgot to share about me,” Loretta said, her loud, excited voice startling Kate and the guy at the next table. “I have two wonderful children and such a supportive husband. He’s an orthodontist, isn’t that great? We just bought a second home in Maui, in fact, although we can’t get there very often because the children have school.”
“Gee, what a bummer.” Kate gave herself a mental pat on the back for not rolling her eyes. Darn it. She’d eaten every last crumb of chocolate. “I really need to get to work, Loretta. So if you don’t mind…”
“Oh, of course not. We authors have to take every opportunity we can to hone our craft. Am I right or am I right?” Loretta gathered her things and got to her feet. She turned to go, but before Kate could breathe a sigh of relief, Loretta pivoted back. “Oh, before I forget. Are you going to the writers’ conference in town this weekend? It’s at the Hyatt.”
A vague memory of seeing something in her Facebook feed came back. As much as Kate loved writers’ conferences and wanted to go, the registration fee was something she couldn’t afford right now. And not because she’d bought a second home in Maui. Ugh. Why had she talked to Loretta at all? “No, I don’t think so. I have some work to get done.”
“All work and no play makes for very dull books and very reclusive authors.” Loretta smiled. “If you can’t make the conference itself, why don’t you come to the VIP cocktail party on Friday night? I have an extra ticket and would love to bring a friend along. You can hobnob with all the agents and editors.”
Kate started to decline, then thought of the networking opportunities and the unfinished novel sitting in her computer. Maybe chatting about fiction with agents and editors would jumpstart her writing. She might even nab a request to see it from one of the publishing professionals. Either way, it was a great opportunity she couldn’t afford to pass up. “That would be wonderful, Loretta. Thank you.”