A Literary Scandal

by Libby Howard

  “They announced the film deal last night,” Daisy told her. “So I’m assuming it’s still a go. I mean, the publishing company owns the film rights, and the books are already written, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  Gerry frowned. “Oh, the paperwork. I wonder if they still need it? Luanne sent me a new contract a few weeks ago that I was supposed to sign and get back to her, but with everything going on and no internet and my printer down… She ended up overnighting me a hard copy on Thursday and said she’d be by this morning to pick it up, but I didn’t have time to get to a notary.”

  “Maybe Luanne would have just forged a notary,” Daisy whispered to me with a roll of her eyes. I was pretty sure she wasn’t wrong.

  And I was pretty sure Eva was going to need those papers. I suspected that someone at the film company had gotten wind of Geraldine’s involvement and wanted all their bases covered before they started production—hence the scowling Sebastian at the theater and Eva’s vague comments about a legal issue.

  “I’m sure Luanne’s agent and her publisher would want that contract,” I told Gerry. “Is there a way you can get it notarized tomorrow? I’ll give you her agent’s address and maybe you can mail it to her, or she can swing by and pick it up. I remember her saying she wouldn’t be going back to New York for a few days yet.”

  Gerry rooted around on the table and grabbed a coloring book and a green crayon to write down Eva’s name and number. “Thank you so much! I’ll definitely get that notarized and in the mail to her. Did you want a copy of the contract? To take to her in case she wants any modifications before I drive around to find a notary? I don’t have a fax or internet so maybe you can give it to her tonight or tomorrow?”

  Nosy me. My heart leapt at the chance. “That would be great. Maybe both contracts so Eva can see what you and Luanne had originally agreed to and the changes?”

  “Sure.” Gerry stood. “My printer is dead, though, so I can’t make copies. Can you just take pictures of them with your cell phone and send them to the agent that way?”

  The woman vanished down a hallway without waiting for my response and Daisy leaned over to me. “No internet. Broken printer. And she clearly doesn’t have a smartphone herself. Heck, I doubt she even has a flip phone. Have we been transported back into 1980? Are they Luddites?”

  I shushed her. “I think she’s just busy and all that’s not a priority. She’s probably got a million church things to do, and I swear I hear a dozen kids down in that basement with the television.”

  Daisy giggled. “A dozen kids in a dozen years of marriage. I’d say the woman who wrote all that steamy stuff has been acting out all that stuff between the pages.”

  “Well, she did say her husband knew and approved of the smut under the bed.”

  We both laughed, then tried to compose ourselves as Gerry dashed back into the room, papers in hand.

  I snapped pictures of each contract, then we all settled in for another iced tea and zucchini bread while Daisy and I asked a million questions to the creative mind behind the two bestselling series. A crash and a loud voice in the basement along with a harried look from Geraldine signaled that we’d reached the end of our visit. With pleasant goodbyes and promises to keep in touch, Daisy and I left the woman kissing a boo-boo and arbitrating some dispute between what did seem like a dozen children who’d trooped up from the basement.

  Back in the car, Daisy sighed and leaned back against the headrest. “Okay, now I’m glad I don’t have kids. Whew, that place was a tornado of toys and noise.”

  “If you’d had kids, you’d be used to it,” I told her. “And Gerry seems pretty happy with it all.”

  “She does.” Daisy smiled and grabbed my phone from the console. “You know, she’s nice. And she is a good salesperson. I’ve never been so close to converting in my life.”

  I laughed. “It’s the zucchini bread. No one can resist its siren call. Baked goods are probably responsible for sixty percent of church membership.”

  “True.” Daisy held up my phone. “Do you mind? I want to eyeball those contracts she brought out.”

  I nodded, pulling out of Gerry’s driveway and down the street. Might as well. I was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable with my level of nosiness today, but in for a penny, in for a pound.

  Chapter 15

  “Get out.”

  Daisy turned to me, her brows raised. “Me? Because you’re going sixty-five on the highway right now. I’d rather not ‘get out’ if it’s okay with you.”

  “Not you.” I jerked my head toward the back seat, glancing through the rearview.

  Daisy spun around, eyeballed the back seat, then shot me a perplexed look.

  “Holt. Or rather Holt’s ghost,” I told her. The spirit hadn’t shown up during yoga in spite of Daisy insisting that Luanne’s death was a murder, so I’d assumed the ghost had taken my warning to heart last night and was staying away until Monday. I’d clearly assumed wrong because there was now a dark shadow in the back of my sedan. As I watched, the seatbelt pulled across and clicked safely into place.

  “Whoa!” Daisy exclaimed, wide-eyed.

  “My driving isn’t that bad,” I told the ghost. “Besides, you’re dead already.”

  “Well, I’m not dead, so keep your eyes on the road,” Daisy scolded. “Has he been showing up like this? I thought once their murderer was ousted, they floated off to heaven or something. Or at the very least, went somewhere else and left you alone. Well, except for Eli, that is.”

  “He’s sticking around.” I told Daisy about the conversation with the spirit through Olive. “Seems he wants to be a ghost detective. We made a deal that he wouldn’t bother me unless I was working. He’s clearly violating that agreement because I’m not working. Luanne’s death was an accident.” I glared into the rearview for a quick second to emphasize the last sentence.

  “Yeah, but you are kind of sleuthing here,” Daisy pointed out. “Investigating the details of the ghostwriting arrangement between Gerry and Luanne and figuring out who really wrote Infernal Awakenings and Fanged Darkness. So in a way, it sort of is detective work.”

  “Whose side are you on?” I scowled at my friend.

  “Just ignore him,” Daisy advised. “Unless he starts trashing the car, just ignore him.”

  “Easy for you to say. You can’t see him.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, well if you stop looking in the rearview, you wouldn’t be able to see him, either. Let’s check out these contracts instead. What’s your phone password?”

  I told her and waited while Daisy read, trying my hardest not to look in the rearview at the ghost in my back seat. Finally, my friend looked up with a sigh and shook her head.

  “I’m wishing I was a lawyer right now, because I’m pretty sure that poor woman has been taken to the cleaners.”

  “She seemed happy with the deal,” I reminded Daisy. “In fact, she seemed thrilled. It’s not our place to say. Those books would have been a stack of papers shoved under a bed if Luanne hadn’t bought them. And I’m sure Luanne contributed a lot to the marketing success, if not the actual content.”

  “No amount of marketing would have made those books bestsellers if they hadn’t been written the way they were,” Daisy argued. “What Luanne did was predatory. She conned a young, inexperienced writer out of her work, paying her a pittance while she rolled in the bucks. It’s wrong.”

  I glanced in the rearview and let out a breath when I realized Holt had vanished. I guess our conversation hadn’t kept his attention. Either that or the homeless on South Street had something really interesting going on right now.

  “It is wrong,” I agreed, tired of defending a woman I hadn’t liked at all. “Gerry is a babe in the woods. She probably didn’t know how well those books were selling. If she had, I’m not sure she would have continued to write for Luanne once the Infernal Awakenings series was over. At least not for what Luanne was paying her for as an unknown author.” Although I wasn’t sure about th
at. Luanne had doubled the money she’d originally been giving Gerry. And although I felt the deal was very lopsided, Gerry had seemed to not take issue with it. Maybe the anonymity of it all was worth the extra money to her. Maybe it was worth it just to know her books had been published and read, and that she’d been able to add to the kids’ college funds.

  “Have you seen this contract?” Daisy had my phone in hand, scrolling through the picture I’d taken. “I’ve seen better deals in crayon on a diner napkin.”

  “It’s that bad?”

  “You should run it by Judge Beck when you get home.” She set the phone down. “Speaking of which, where was he this morning? I’m used to seeing him wandering around the kitchen in his pajamas with his hair all mussed up. I miss that. It kinda makes my day, you know?”

  “Insomnia. He was up when I got home, drinking tea. He was still up when I finally went off to bed, so I’m assuming he slept in. Then he probably went out to golf whenever he rolled out of bed. That’s pretty much what he does on the weekends that he doesn’t have the kids.”

  “Bet that’s part of his insomnia.” Daisy gave me a knowing nod. “Dad always told me he slept better when his kids were all under one roof. Of course, I was forty when he told me that, but I guess kids are always kids to their parents.”

  “That and I think the divorce has hit a rocky patch,” I confessed. “He lets things slip sometimes, and my heart just hurts for him.”

  “That divorce has been in a rocky patch since day one.” Daisy patted my hand on the steering wheel. “I’m glad you’re there for him to talk to. Imagine how horrible it would be for him living in some sterile apartment, all alone except for when the kids were there.”

  “It’s not all one-sided,” I confessed. “I love having him around. Taco is amazing, but it was nice to come home last night and find him in the kitchen with the kettle on.”

  “In his pajamas? With his hair all mussed?” Daisy teased. “Seriously though, I hope the divorce wraps up soon. Poor guy. I’m sure Heather is going to take him for every penny he’s got.”

  “He’d be happy to give her every penny he had if he could have the kids full time,” I told her. “He knows they need to see their mother, but he worries she’ll do something to deny him half custody. I know he’d really like full custody, though.”

  Daisy shot me a perceptive glance. “Think that’s a possibility?”

  “No. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Full custody would pretty much end his career. His heart wants his children at home every night, but in reality, without a wife to do all the after-school pick up and drop off, he’d never be able to get his work done. He manages now by working double-time in the weeks he doesn’t have the kids.” I shook my head sadly. “I admire him for making it work, but I worry he’s pushing himself too hard.”

  “Maybe they’ll get back together.” Daisy’s comment was a shade too casual. I glared at her.

  “Heather has a boyfriend. And although Judge Beck is clearly not over the break-up of his marriage, I think he feels things are too far gone at this point to salvage the relationship.”

  “Just saying that as things get tough, as things get down to the wire, there may be an attempt at reconciliation. That boyfriend thing might be short-lived, and all sorts of memories about how things used to be might lead them to give it another try.” Daisy patted my hand again. “I don’t want you to be hurt.”

  “Too late,” I told her. “I’d miss the kids terribly. I’d miss the judge terribly. Although I know that even if they don’t get back together, once this is all final he’ll buy a home of his own and move out. My only hope is that the kids will want to see me after that—to spend time with me every now and then and maybe write me, or e-mail me, from college.”

  “And Judge Beck?” Daisy’s voice was soft.

  “He’s my friend. He’s like family to me. But the reality is that once this divorce is final, he’ll start dating and eventually find someone and fall in love.” I took a deep breath. “I don’t harbor any hopes that he’ll bother to keep in touch with me after that. Maybe a Christmas card, or something, but that’s it.”

  “Oh, Kay…”

  “That’s the way it goes,” I told her, marveling at how my voice was steady and strong. “Honestly, it might be for the best. He’s been such a comfort to me after Eli’s passing, but in a year or so, once he’s gone, I’ll need to start learning to live alone. I need to learn to be happy with my friends and with Taco, and not rely on having someone there every night when I come home.”

  “If you’re not dating by then, I’m going to start setting you up,” Daisy insisted. “You’re too young to be single the rest of your life. Eli wouldn’t have wanted that. You need to date. And maybe you’ll find another man to love and marry.”

  “So says the woman who has been single her entire life.” I was teasing, but a quick glance at my friend made me realize my words had hurt her. “Oh, Daisy. I didn’t mean that…”

  She gave me a wan smile. “It’s okay. It’s not by choice, you know. I mean, maybe it’s by choice, but I never stopped hoping I’d find the right guy. I dated a lot when I was younger. Was engaged once. Sometimes you learn to be happy alone because that’s what life has dealt you.”

  “And this is what life has dealt me,” I told her softly. “I loved Eli. Even after the accident with how much he’d changed, I loved him. I don’t think I have it in me to love like that again. And I’m worried that if I open myself up, anything I do will be some sort of rebound. A man doesn’t deserve to be my second choice, my Band-Aid for a love lost. A man deserves a hundred percent of me, not some fake love based on loneliness and grief.”

  “I think you do have it in you, Kay.” She turned in her seat to face me. “Those kids will eventually grow up and get lives of their own. Judge Beck…well, who knows what Judge Beck will do? You’ve got your friends. You’ve got Taco. And I know you think that’s enough, but I don’t want you to let an opportunity pass you by because you won’t open yourself to the thought that you could love more than one person in your life.”

  I thought of my future, of my elderly years. There were so many people I knew like Matt’s father, who were widowed with only the few friends still alive and occasional visits from their children for company. I wasn’t anywhere near that part of my life yet. “Okay, I promise I’ll open my mind and heart to the possibility, but only if you do the same.” I wagged a finger at her.

  She leaned back in her seat. “I know. I know. I should probably go out with J.T. He’s asked often enough.”

  I shrugged. “If you can’t bear the thought of suffering through a plate of linguini with him, then don’t. He’s a nice guy. He’s smart and gets along with everyone he meets. Plus, that reality show thing is just enough quirky silliness to make him interesting.”

  “He’s also pretty good at wrestling gun-toting, homicidal mayors to the ground,” Daisy added. “And he’s kinda cute with the shaved head and cowboy boot look he’s got going on lately.”

  “Then why do you keep turning him down? He’s not going to keep asking forever, you know. Even J.T. has a limit to his persistence.”

  She wrinkled her nose in thought. “He’s slick. He’s a bit of a smooth talker who’s buddies with all the guys and a flirt with all the ladies. I’ve been burned by that kind of guy before.”

  “J.T.’s flirting never crosses the line, and he’s not the kind that dates around. I think he really likes you, Daisy. And you’ve known him since high school, haven’t you?”

  She sniffed. “He was a flirt back then, too. I don’t know. I just never really thought of J.T. Pierson as someone I’d go out with. He never really hit my radar as a guy I wanted to date.”

  “Sometimes love isn’t a lightning bolt, it’s a slow incoming tide that catches you by surprise. And it’s just dinner. It’s not like he’s going to stuff you in a car and drive to Atlantic City for a shotgun wedding.”

  She chuckled, then grew serious once
more. “Was it a slow incoming tide with Eli?”

  “No. Eli was a lightning bolt. But he wasn’t the unobtainable football player I’d always drooled over either. He was a skinny Latino guy who had three hundred pounds of books in his backpack and a cup of coffee permanently attached to one hand. But there was this gentle humor about him and when he looked at me, when he talked to me, his full attention was on me—not the next day’s chemistry exam, or what party was going on this weekend, or if he had enough money to chip in for pizza night. Me. That sort of thing is sexy. It’s intoxicating. I was in love from the moment I met him.”

  I glanced over at Daisy and saw the shadow of longing in her eyes.

  “Okay. You win,” She raised her hands in surrender. “I’ll call J.T. as soon as we get home. I’m not promising anything, but I’ll give the guy a chance.”

  I hid a smile. “And I swear that when I’m ready, when I feel like my heart has healed enough to let another in, I’ll give someone a chance.”

  Daisy shot me a sideways glance. “Promise?”

  I took one hand off the wheel to raise it. “Promise.”

  Chapter 16

  “This is a mess.” Judge Beck handed me back my phone. “It’s been a while since I’ve done contract law, but it’s my learned opinion that whoever wrote that thing up should be taken out back and whipped.”

  I looked down at my phone. “That bad?”

  He sighed. “Verbal contracts are binding, and most judges like to err on the side of intent when it comes to things like this, but…”

  “Could Gerry have gone after Luanne for more money if she’d wanted to? Or the publisher?”

  “Probably. That contract is so vague that any lawsuit would wind up being a she-said-she-said. And in that case, without any witnesses or notaries to state what the original agreed-upon intent was, the judge would look at what a reasonable person would have considered fair under those circumstances, and rule that way.”