Chapter 11
Thanks for the info. Skimmed it. Interesting. What’s the breakdown by market size, sales, and genre?
Call me to discuss.
??
You took some hard hits on Sunday. Need proof of life. Your mother worries.
Bash groaned. He didn’t need his dad’s attempts at guilt on top of being mentally and physically exhausted. Sunday’s game had been brutal, and their next one was against the toughest defense in their division. But they had weaknesses, and Bash had spent a good portion of his day studying game tape to find and exploit them. Find the patterns and their weak links. He might take a pounding, but the Tetons also had an excellent chance to win.
Mom’s not the worrier he is, Bash thought as he hit the Call button.
“I’m alive. Happy?”
“Ecstatic.” Silence followed, and Bash stared at the ceiling. If his dad wanted to talk, he could talk. “Tough game to watch.”
“Tougher game to play.”
“Touché,” his dad chuckled, and Bash pictured him raising his arm in a mock salute.
“About my questions?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“You could have said that in the text,” Bash grumbled.
“And miss hearing your sweet dulcet tones? You can’t hide behind texts, Sebastian. When it comes to business, you need to pick up the phone and call.”
Bash rolled his eyes. “Well, since I have you on the phone, and talking is so much more efficient than texting, I have a few more questions. Grab a pen.”
Bash didn’t, or at least he hadn’t had more questions until now. After the kiss, he’d wanted nothing more to do with Penny the liar. He’d never had a kissing complaint before, unless he’d misunderstood her soft moans as she’d melted into him as complaints and not longing. That kiss had nearly knocked him on his ass, and he’d seen stars behind his eyes. For her to tell him it was bad was a lie.
He’d never felt more comfortable yet challenged around someone. He’d watched Penny with customers, so at ease and relaxed, wishing he could channel that. Bash thanked his lucky stars she’d opened that letter before he’d approached her with his original query that day—to tutor him. If she could bestow some of her people skills on him, it would be advantageous for him and lucrative for her. He didn’t know how much shopgirl made, but she’d have been stupid if she hadn’t jumped at the money he’d intended to wave at her.
He was done with her, except he wasn’t. Bash couldn’t turn his back on the informational goldmine of Get Lost.
His dad sighed as if greatly put out by acting as Bash’s secretary, but Bash knew he lived for the moments when he showed an interest in VV Pub. “I’m ready when you are.”
“Mom used to travel more. Going to book readings and reader events. Why did she stop?”
“I think you’d have to ask her that, but from a business standpoint, the marketing budget has been slashed for most authors and travel is a huge piece of that. It’s an easy place to cut that makes a big impact on the bottom line.”
“But what if that’s shortsighted? What if the best way to build readership is to connect with them? Go to the indie bookstores and meet readers. Sign books.”
“That would be a hard argument to make, and it might be a costly mistake.”
“What about a trial or test run?”
“When? And who would decide which authors to include?”
“Let fate decide. See if any of our authors have time between now and the holidays or just plan on the spring. Maybe focus on the authors in the Pacific Northwest, so we wouldn’t have to deal with air travel.”
“I like the initiative and the thought, Sebastian, but I don’t think it will work. You’re dealing with a bunch of introverts and little notice.”
“But mom enjoyed them.”
“She did, but she’s the exception to most rules.” And it was true. Gloria Sebastian had never met a rule she hadn’t challenged, a trait she’d passed to Bash. Sometimes he pitied his obedient father stuck with two proud rule breakers. His mom challenged them because she didn’t like to be told no, but Bash wasn’t about to agree to something unless he knew the why or the reasoning behind it. Following arbitrary rules meant for everyone was personal lunacy.
Bash cleared his throat. “I was wondering if mom could be one of the guinea pigs. The two of you could make a long weekend of it. Book signing for her on Saturday, and I could get tickets to the game on Sunday. I could probably get seats in the owner’s booth.” He swallowed. He’d never asked his parents to a game, not even in high school. They’d seen him play at MetLife Stadium, but they’d never traveled to a game. Catching a day game was easy, but traveling meant planning and commitment. And a greater chance of disappointment for him. He’d spent his childhood being disappointed. He’d be damned if he spent his adulthood that way, too.
“Send me some options, and we’ll check our schedules.”
“Sure.” Bash fought the disappointment. He’d foolishly hoped for a glowing yes. “I’d better go. Early morning tomorrow.”
“Did you call the architect back? They can’t finalize the plans until you sign off on your kitchen changes, and I know they wanted to talk to you about the garage and how much space you wanted. Do you really want it?” he asked.
Bash heard his dad’s frustration. He’d never understood Bash’s fascination with restoring old cars, preferring his son to spend his time on the tennis court, golf course, or sailing. But working on the cars was therapeutic. Tearing something apart and rebuilding it. He did most of the engine and electrical work and there was a couple across the river in New Jersey who did the upholstery and body work.
“Yes, I want the enclosed space with all the ventilation in the underground parking garage, and I want the bigger kitchen.” One of the surprising perks of living with Cal and Lucas was that he’d learned more cooking techniques, and that he preferred cooking meals with others. The original galley kitchen wouldn’t work for him now. He wanted something bigger, with an island and two sinks. Other than the major appliances and a Jura espresso machine, he didn’t know what he needed, but he planned to ask Maggie.
“And what happens when you get tired of cars?”
“I’ll move to motorcycles.”
“Are you trying to kill your mother? It’s already bad enough that your day job requires a helmet.”
“And pads. Good night, Dad. I’ll text you the home games so you can share it with Mom and your assistants.”
“Fine, but make sure you—”
“Call the architect. I know and I wrote it down. We’re good. I’ll call later in the week.”
“Good night, Bash, and watch your left.”
Penny glanced at the duplex. Harper’s side was dark, which either meant she wasn’t home yet, or she’d gone to bed. Either option worked for her because Harper was her cover story.
She knocked on the men”s front door, wondering what it was like for Harper and Cal to be neighbors for the season. Everyone had pitched in to renovate the ranch-style home into a short-term rental. They’d knocked out walls and expanded the kitchen. Housing was always tight in Cascade City because of the mountains partially surrounding them and the river cutting through the middle, and Alison knew they could turn a profit on renting the house to Tetons’ players during the season and then vacationers for the summer. Five had never dreamed he’d be living in it as he’d painted and tiled during his spring break.
“Hi,” Penny said, squeezing by Five when he opened the door.
“Come on in.” He shut the door behind them, shattering her plan of a quick in and out. Bash was supposed to answer the door where she’d give him a quick apology before inviting him to dinner so she could master the challenge. Cal opening the door, tossed a wrench into the works. Penny needed to buy herself time until Bash showed up. She glanced at Cal. He looks beat.
“Can I make you a snack?”
“I could eat,” he shrugged.
“Tea?” He nodded. “Do you have some of the special blend?”
“Top corner by the fridge. Nanna’s honey is in there, too.”
Penny looked around and noticed his laptop paused. “I don’t remember this room being so small.”
“It wasn’t until Mom added all the oversized furniture.”
“Did she add the gaming system, too?”
“Mine.”
“I bet I can still beat you.”
“You probably can.” She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest as he rested his head on hers. Her baby brother was all grown up, and Penny realized she didn’t really know the man he’d become; not like she’d known the boy. He was seven years younger and six inches taller. He’d still been in elementary school when she’d left for college. His stomach rumbled, and she stepped away, laughing.
“What do you expect? You woke up the beast showing up at my door like the snack fairy promising treats.”
“Fine. Sit. Any requests?” she asked as Cal settled into the corner of the couch, dragging the laptop toward him.
“I’d like the Penny special, please.”
Penny filled the electric kettle and slid the three pieces of bread into the toaster. She found a jar of Nanna’s berry jam in the fridge and the world’s largest jar of peanut butter on the counter next to the bananas. Penny didn’t need to open too many cupboards to find what she was looking for. Her mom had organized this kitchen just like the one at home. She added a hearty squirt of honey to the bottom of the mug, remembering Five liked his tea on the sweeter side.
She pulled out the toast and assembled the triple-decker peanut butter, banana, and jam sandwich, placing it on a plate next to the remaining banana. Normally she would have eaten it as payment for making the sandwich, but Five looked like he needed the nutrition more than she did. Penny poured the boiling water into the mug and added the tea bag.
There was still no sign of Bash. And, as nice as it was to care for Five, failing wouldn’t help her. But she could improvise. Make herself some tea. Challenge Five to a video game. Kill time until Bash showed up. What if he’s on a date? Her waiting in the kitchen for him like a parent would be awkward.
“I was hoping to catch Harper, but she’s not home. Can I hang in the kitchen and catch up on emails?” she asked, lying through her teeth and hoping Five didn’t know where their big sister was.
“Sure, whatever,” Five said, before taking a lion-sized bite of the sandwich. “Bef samwich eva.”
“You’re welcome. Eat that, then go to bed. I’ll straighten up the kitchen.” As I wait to ambush Bash so I can apologize and get my power back.
Penny turned the kettle on and grabbed a rag, intent on wiping down the counter and cabinet handles as her water heated. But the clear glass tea kettle caught her attention as the bubbles took shape, mesmerizing her and making her rethink her strategy. She shouldn’t be here. Waiting for him. She was making too big of a fuss over this. It would be better to apologize the next time he stopped in to Get Lost. She could make a joke out of it, and they’d laugh it off. But the look on Bash’s face as he’d left told her he wouldn’t. And what if he didn’t come back? Penny bit her lip. Stay or go? she asked, staring at the rapid boil.
“I didn’t know housekeeping came with the rent,” Bash said, striding into the kitchen in nothing but a low-slung towel and glasses. Penny mentally fanned herself. Dear Lord, he wears glasses.