Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
Iwalked up my driveway—I was coming from Bree’s house—and found my father at the front door. “What are you doing here?”
“Apparently, I’m sitting on the front stoop like a hobo,” Dad replied, shaking his head as he stood with a grunt.
I smirked. “Who says hobo any longer?”
“It’s a word.”
I chuckled. “If you say so.” I twirled my keys around my finger. “What’s up?” It was rare for my father to just drop in. If he was here, he had something on his mind.
“I’m being stalked,” he announced with zero preamble.
I pressed my lips together, torn between laughing and asking the obvious question.
“And I can tell you’re not surprised,” he said when I remained silent.
“I’m not surprised.” I edged around him, opened my front door, and dropped my laptop on the counter in the kitchen before turning back to him. “How is Sylvia?”
“She’s crazy.”
I didn’t respond again.
“Why isn’t this surprising to you?” he demanded.
“Because Bree told me she was crazy.”
“Bree knows she’s crazy?”
My father not asking who Bree was felt like a win. I’d mentioned her more than once during our biweekly phone calls. Sylvia likely talked about her as well. It had been two weeks since Sylvia had mentioned my father was ghosting her, however, so I had no idea how much they were seeing each other.
“Bree grew up with her.” I went to the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of iced tea.
I poured two glasses and shoved one toward my father.
He took it without saying anything. “My understanding is that Sylvia spent all her time worrying about her dating life and no time worrying about Bree.” That still made me angry, but I managed not to take a detour down Tangent Road.
“She pretty much said as much,” Dad agreed. He looked tired. He never looked tired. He was a man used to spa visits and eight full hours of sleep a night.
“Sylvia acknowledged that she was a crappy mother?” I was dubious.
He shrugged. “She said Bree was very self-sufficient. Then she told stories that she thought were funny about Bree being alone for weekends at the age of ten.”
Anger jolted through me. “And she thought that was amusing?”
“She doesn’t get it. Being a hands-on mother was not something she was interested in. She got lucky that Bree could take care of herself.”
Something about the way he said it gave me pause. “Bree is a good person.” I chose my words carefully. “She’s going to be around for a long time if I have any say in it.”
Dad arched an eyebrow. “What’s a long time?”
Forever. That was my immediate answer. I just smiled. “A long time.”
Dad searched my face then offered up a small smile. “Then I guess I’ll have to get to know her. Well, once her mother stops stalking me. I don’t suppose you could ask her how to make the stalking stop, could you? Sylvia just keeps showing up at random places and acting like it’s an accident.”
“We’ve already talked about it. You need to stop going to your normal spots for a little bit. Or you could just tell Sylvia you’re not interested,” I added almost as an afterthought.
Dad shook his head. “I can’t be mean to her. I mean, I don’t hate her or anything. I just can’t spend time with her. She’s manic.”
I’d wondered about that myself. Some of the behavior I’d seen when I was around Sylvia made me believe she might be bipolar. There were cycles of high highs and low lows. “Just tell her the truth.”
“And what’s the truth?”
“That you’re not interested. Obviously, you no longer are.”
“Yes, well…” He scratched his chin. “I liked having someone to talk to at the start. I didn’t realize she was crazy until later. How come you didn’t tell me to stop seeing her? I would think, since you’re interested in her daughter, you would want me to stay away from her.”
“Would it have done any good if I asked you to stay away from her?” I was honestly curious.
“Maybe. I want you to be happy. This Bree girl seems to make you happy.”
So happy. He had no idea. “She does. She gets me.”
“Because she writes books too?”
“That’s not all of it, but it’s a lot of it. It’s hard to find someone who understands what I do. We mesh well. As for why I didn’t tell you to avoid Sylvia, I knew she wouldn’t last.”
“And why is that?” Dad leaned against the counter and folded his arms.
I wasn’t going to sugarcoat it for him. “Because she’s too old for you.”
Dad balked. “She’s five years younger than me.”
“And you only shop in the twentysomething section these days.”
“You make me sound like a gross predator.”
“You’re not. You don’t want anything of substance, though.”
“Why would you say that?” he asked.
My father and I never talked about our feelings. Our conversations were all about surface things. I didn’t hold back given the opportunity, however. “Because you don’t want to date anybody who would challenge your memory of Mom.”
He swallowed hard.
“You feel bad about cheating on her,” I continued. “When she got sick, you stopped. I saw the way you were back then. You felt guilty.”
“Your mother didn’t know, did she?”
“She knew.”
Anguish lined his features as he turned away from me. “I wondered.”
“That’s how she got you to sign off on the trust. She played on your guilt.”
“I would have done whatever she wanted.” When he turned back, he looked like an old man. “It wasn’t as if I had any intention of cutting you off. I don’t want you thinking that.”
“I know you weren’t going to cut me off. You would have, however, only allowed me access to the money with restrictions. I guarantee I wouldn’t have graduated from college with an English degree if she hadn’t arranged for the trust.”
Dad opened his mouth—maybe to argue—then closed it. “Your mother made sure you were taken care of,” he said finally. “I didn’t understand at the time why she did what she did. I didn’t agree with you getting an English degree. But it was the best thing for you.”
It was the first time he’d ever said anything of the sort, and I was momentarily stupefied. Then I collected myself. “Why do you believe that now? You didn’t believe it before.”
“It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in you. I knew you would be good at whatever you chose to do. It’s just … I wanted you to want to be like me. I realize now that was wrong. You’re your own man. You’re good at what you do.”
“I had a rough patch,” I admitted. His words meant a great deal to me. “I’m back on track, though.”
“Do you want to talk about why you had a rough patch?”
I thought about Bree. I’d blamed my issues on her, but that wasn’t why I’d fallen apart.
“The pressure got to me. I was a success out of the gate. It’s called imposter syndrome.
I didn’t think I had it in me to do it again, because I was convinced it was a fluke.
My second book wasn’t even out when I lost my confidence.
It came out and was as good as the first, but I was already in my head. ”
He nodded as if that made perfect sense. “And now…?”
“And now I realize I can’t control what’s going to happen.
” I’d given this a lot of thought over the past few weeks.
“I’m going to write books people love, and I’m going to write books people don’t love as much.
I’m not going to lose everything if it’s the latter, and I’m not going to be king of the world if it’s the former. I’m still going to be the same thing.”
“And what’s that?”
“An author.” I shrugged.
“You’re a good author, son, even if I don’t get the elves and dwarves and stuff.” He smiled ruefully. “I’m glad you found someone to love.”
“She’s important to me.”
“I promise to love her forever if she can get her mother off my back,” he said.
Laughter bubbled up, and I shook my head. “You’re going to have to go underground. Bree says her mother will get distracted and then take off with somebody else as soon as she realizes you’re no longer an option.”
“She’s just going to take off and leave Bree? That doesn’t sound very nice.”
“I guess it happens all the time. Bree is used to it.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s right.”
“No, but there are worse things according to Bree. Truth be told, she’s ready for her mother to leave. Too much togetherness is not a good thing where they’re concerned.”
“But she’s her mother.”
“You’re looking through a lens of my mother.
I get it. I did it too.” I shrugged. “Not all relationships are created equal. Bree loves her mother. She can’t spend too much time with her, though, because Sylvia is never going to be the mother she needs.
It’s better not to have that repeatedly thrown in her face. ”
Dad considered it then nodded. “Basically, you’re saying I have to deal with the mess I made myself.”
“Yup.” This time, when I smiled, it was legitimate. “Maybe—and this is just a thought—you could date somebody who you can talk to but won’t end up stalking you next time.”
His expression was dry. “I’ll take it under consideration.”
TWO DAYS LATER, I MET MY AGENT AND my editor at Garibaldi Savannah. Lenore Baker, my agent, had arranged the meeting. I had no idea if it was a good or bad thing—I’d sent them my completed manuscript a week before—but I was prepared for the news either way.
I hadn’t been lying to my father when I said I’d come to terms with what my future would look like.
I no longer blamed Bree for what had happened at the conference.
Sure, she wasn’t perfect. I’d done all the real damage myself, though.
If I’d just calmed down that day, everybody would have forgotten what had happened within a week. I’d created my own problems.
Carly Pitt had edited both of my previous books, so my eyes were on her after we placed our orders. “So, you’re probably wondering why we flew here to see you,” she said, half laughing.
“I’m a little worried,” I said.
Her eyes opened wider. “Oh, no.” She looked stricken. “It never occurred to me that you would think this was a bad meeting. Far from it.”
The fist that had been wrapped around my heart loosened. “So, it’s a good meeting?”
“A very good meeting,” Lenore said. “They love the book. I do too.”
“We wish it had come faster,” Carly added hurriedly. “But we’re happy with what you turned in. We don’t think edits are going to be a big deal.”
That didn’t surprise me. “I’m glad.”
“There’s talk of a production company sniffing around,” Lenore said. “I don’t have anything firm yet, but I know Netflix is trying to expand their fantasy offerings. I think there’s going to be an option offer.”
I tempered my excitement. It was nice to have the interest. Options weren’t a sure thing—I knew a lot of authors who had received option money and had no television show or movie to go with it—but just being wanted was enough for me, at least for now.
“That sounds great.”
“The publishing house wants you to do a book tour too,” Lenore added.
That gave me pause. “Really?” Being alone on the road as I did a fifteen-city stop for press wasn’t my idea of a fun time.
“Really. The thing is, the summer author series has been such a big hit there’s talk of pairing authors from different publishing houses for releases.” Lenore cast Carly a significant look.
“It’s a way to save money,” Carly explained. “You only need one PR rep instead of two. Cars and hotel accommodations can be cheaper.” She took a deep breath. “In this market, everybody is looking for ways to save money.”
I didn’t particularly want to do a signing swing. It was part of the game, though. “So, who are you going to pair me with?” Hope welled. “Nathan?” It was a long shot, but I would gladly take it.
Carly chuckled. “Actually, we’re sending Nathan out on a similar trip, but his book will be released three months ahead of yours. Your author works for a different publishing house.”
“Who is it?” All I could picture was Amy Ryan. Fate wouldn’t be that cruel, would it?
There was something smug about Lenore’s smile that I couldn’t quite place. “Bree James. You know her, right?”
I froze in place, my hand halfway to my glass of water. “What?” I said before I could think better of it. I sounded like I was about to cry.
“You two didn’t break up, did you?” Carly asked in alarm.
I frowned. “How… ?”
“How did we know?” Lenore prodded. “The author world only seems big. It’s actually relatively small.”
“But…” Then I figured it out. Lenore wasn’t only my agent. “I’m going to kill Nathan.”
She chuckled. “He didn’t tell me. Annette, with the author event, did.”
“How did she know?”
“Did you guys think you were flying under the radar?” Carly challenged. “You guys have been all over TikTok since you were filmed in that hearse together.”
All the oxygen whooshed out of my lungs, and it took me a moment to recover. “When were we filmed?”
That question threw Carly. “Did you go on more than one hearse tour?”
“No, but I rented that hearse for just the two of us.” I was more bothered than they would understand, and it wasn’t because I didn’t want people to know about my relationship with Bree. “Where is this video?”
They exchanged a look.
“I’ll find it,” Carly said automatically and picked up her phone.
“Why is this an issue?” Lenore asked.
“It’s not an issue,” I replied. “It’s just … we’re not public figures. At least not the way a Hollywood star is. How would random people know who we are?”
“There are pictures on the back of books for a reason.”
“Okay, but how much overlap do you think Bree and I get between our readers?”
“I’m guessing it’s not a lot.” Lenore shrugged. “I still don’t understand why you’re so worked up.”
She couldn’t understand. “There was a guy at the reader events. He was being creepy with Bree. Someone vandalized my yard too. I just… I wish I’d known.”
“You don’t think there’s somebody out there stalking you, do you?”
“Not necessarily. But it’s weird.”
“Well… are you okay doing your book tour with Bree, or should we make other arrangements?” Some of the light had gone out of Carly’s eyes. Instantly, I collected myself. I was overreacting. Or at least I hoped I was.
“No, I want to do the tour with Bree. Make sure she’s up for it, though.”
“Her agent should be contacting her with the offer today,” Lenore assured me.
“As long as she’s okay with it, I’m okay with it.” The idea of traveling with Bree made me positively giddy. There was just one little problem.
“Here’s the video.” Carly handed over the phone.
I watched it. Twice. For the most part, it was innocuous.
It showed Bree and me getting in the hearse together.
That didn’t bother me. What did bother me was that the video had been edited, and there were various shots of us through the open roof of the hearse as we were taken from location to location.
“Someone followed us the entire time,” I said.
Lenore’s eyebrows moved together. “I never really put that together, but you’re right.”
“It’s creepy. Somebody followed us for hours.”
“Any idea who?”
My mind immediately went to Joey. “Yeah. Actually, I do have an idea.”