“You know as well as I do that if the writer misses all the soft deadlines leading up to the hard deadline, they’re not going to magically produce the weekend before. It never works that way.”
“Well, I guess I still live in a world full of hope.” Suzanne threw a fake smile in Josh’s direction and let out a frustrated sigh.
“We’re going to treat this like one big writing exercise.” Josh stood and walked over to the wall of opaque glass they used as a writing board. He grabbed an erasable marker and began writing down questions. “Send her these as jumping-off points and make the deadline by the end of the week. No later than noon on Friday, or we yank her advance and call off the deal.”
Josh knew he was all talk, but if he didn’t have Suzanne believing what he said, nothing would ever get done and Hailee wouldn’t play his game. He was determined to have this book done by fall. It was a quick turnaround, but he’d already waited eighteen years for these answers.
As he continued to scribble down the questions to start Hailee’s juices flowing, he couldn’t help but wonder why she was refusing to write. Hailee was the one with all the answers.
When Josh finally finished the last question, he let out a huge sigh and turned around to see Suzanne staring at him in disbelief.
“That’s a long list of questions. How do you expect Emilia to answer all of those if she can’t even send a chapter?”
Josh smiled. “Either she wants to keep the money, or she doesn’t.” He tossed the marker onto the table and walked out of the conference room. He needed to clear his head.
“Hi, Mr. Turner.” The receptionist waved and smiled at him, and he responded with a quick nod.
Josh recognized that the receptionist was inviting him to more than just a simple hello. He knew her endless flirting had an endgame, but it was one he would never participate in. Josh had a strict policy on fraternizing with coworkers, and he knew he could only lead by example.
Not that the receptionist expected a date, which was even more disconcerting. He always felt bad when some women put themselves out there to get their hearts trampled, because that would inevitably happen. It made Josh wonder if the ease of one-night stands was because of all the dating apps now, or if he was just more astute because when he tried to find someone of substance, he failed miserably while all of his friends and cousins had managed to find The One.
His chest tightened as Hailee popped into his head, and he let out a groan as he slammed the elevator button. Maybe he’d already found the one and was out of luck. Josh let out an aggravated sigh and walked onto the carriage sending him down to the lobby.
Eight weeks ago, Josh was sitting on top of the world, enjoying nights out and walking eagerly into his office each morning. Now, his evenings were taken up by thoughts of Hailee Howard and all the stewing that accompanied that joyride. He was emotionally exhausted from dredging up the woman from his past, but now he was in too deep, and Josh had to see his plan through.
By the time he reached his favorite diner to grab an omelet, he was all worked up.
Was Hailee just messing with Josh? Had she figured out he owned the publishing house? There was no mention of him on the website, he stayed out of the press, and the new deal announcements never mentioned him by name, so it would be unlikely. Not impossible, but unlikely.
“Your usual, Mr. Turner?” The server stood in front of the table he somehow found himself at. He didn’t even remember walking into the diner, which was precisely the problem. The moment Hailee Howard entered his mind, everything else left it, which made no sense.
She obviously wasn’t the person he knew nearly two decades ago, but she’d become some kind of enigma he wanted to solve. What drove her to leave town and change her name, only to come back eighteen years later, was nearly driving him mad. Josh just hoped his plan wouldn’t backfire.
Right when he’d finished his omelet, a text from Suzanne slid over his phone.
Surprisingly, she answered all of your questions and already sent them over. They landed in my inbox about ten minutes ago. Not surprisingly, they only took up about a page. I don’t think we’re going to get anywhere.
Josh smiled and texted back.
A page each?
Suzanne immediately responded.
No.
Josh gritted his teeth and pushed his plate away. Somehow, he was managing to get roped into Hailee’s games whether he wanted to be or not. He threw a twenty on the table and started toward the office without even a reply to Suzanne.
No matter how short Hailee’s answers were, he was itching to see her responses. He didn’t pull any punches when he had Suzanne send that list over, and for most writers, it would have more than provided a jumping off point for them.
So why not Hailee?
By the time the elevator let him off on the floor to his office, he was breathless with needy anticipation.
When his eyes connected with Suzanne’s, he knew he was going to be let down. There wasn’t going to be enough on the page Hailee sent over to satisfy his curiosity.
Josh grabbed the printout from Suzanne’s grip and stared at the answers.
Have you been in love?
Yes.
How many times?
Once.
When?
When I was a teenager.
What did your first love mean to you?
Everything.
Have you ever loved someone like you loved your first love?
No.
Do you think it will ever be possible to love like you did when you were younger?
No, but I’m not sure I’d want to.
What do you wish you could apply from that relationship to future relationships?
Fearlessness and certainty.
What did it feel like being in love with your first love, and have you ever felt anything like it since?
It felt like home, and no.
Josh drew a deep breath and hung onto her last answer. This wasn’t a woman who needed to be punished. Hailee was a woman who needed to be found.
Chapter Eleven
Emilia looked around her tiny bedroom with rosebuds splashed across the wallpaper and let out an exhausted breath. She wasn’t even sure why she’d decided to buy back Mama Cam and Papa Jack’s house, but here she was with keys in hand and boxes crammed in every corner of her new home.
She’d like to believe the reason she bought the place wasn’t purely because she was afraid of Josh Turner tearing it up, but she had a feeling that was precisely why she now held the deed. She collapsed on her bed, which looked enormous in her grandparents’ bedroom, and closed her eyes. There had to be a way to simultaneously unpack and write a couple of pages all at the same time.
A chapter was due to her editor over a week ago, but she couldn’t make herself write what they wanted. Not being able to write about her life made entirely no sense either. She was dealing with complete strangers, and the chance that Josh Turner would ever read the words she wrote were slim to none, so Emilia didn’t understand why she faced writer’s block for the first time in her life.
Emilia blinked her eyes open and stared at the popcorn ceiling with flecks of gold glitter that genuinely gave this home its charm. She swore if she concentrated hard enough, she could hear Mama Cam calling out to Emilia that fresh chocolate chip cookies were on the counter. Her chest tightened at the thought, and she propped herself up, staring out the window to see a new flurry of snow coming down.
She had a lot to do today, and she promised herself and her editor, Suzanne, that she’d send over a chapter in two more days. Right when she got up, she saw a snow plow slowing down at her drive and narrowed her eyes to see Austin North, the youngest North brother. Before she realized what he was up to, he turned down the drive and began pushing the snow out of the way.
She quickly slid on a coat and nearly ran down the stairs and out the door to say thank you.
When Austin caught her flying out the door, he turned the truck off and clim
bed out.
“So the rumors are true.” Austin smiled and wandered over to Emilia, who was dumbstruck by just how good-looking he had turned out to be. He was a few years younger than she was, but she knew him from the North family functions.
“The rumors are true.” She nodded, smiling.
“So, here’s the million-dollar question.” He grinned. “Should I call you Hailee or Emilia when I see you around town?”
“Whatever floats your boat, buddy.” She chuckled, feeling extremely foolish for having so many different names. If it were hard for everyone else to keep track, it would explain why Emilia had so much difficulty figuring out who she really was. “For the North brothers, I’ll answer to either.”
“I’m flattered.” He tipped his cowboy hat and winked at Emilia, which only made her giggle. “Since when did you become a cowboy?”
“Oh, this old thing?” he teased. “The ladies love it.”
“Sure they do.”
Emilia had to admit, he looked pretty darn good in the hat, but he was far too young, and he was related to Josh, which would be far too messy.
“So, are you moving back to town or is this going to be a rental?” Austin asked as she zipped up her coat. The chill in the air was turning icier by the second. “You know people are dying to know.”
“For now, it’ll be home. But who knows? I’ll probably get over my sentimental attachment and rent it out and dash off somewhere else. It’s my nature.”
“That’s one way of looking at it.” He glanced at the Tudor cottage behind her.
“And what’s the other?” She folded her arms over her chest.
“I predict you’re finally coming home to where you belong, and you just don’t want to admit that you miss us.” He winked. “You belong in Silver Ridge.”
“What makes you think I belong here?” Emilia’s brows furrowed.
“You always did.” He shrugged. “It’s like Josh and Dakota. I have no idea why they moved away.”
“Because that’s what people do. They spread their wings.” Emilia chuckled and patted Austin’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. Someday, you will too.”
“You’re as feisty in person as in your columns.” He scratched his chin and let out a deep breath. “It’s good to have you back in town. If you need anything, make sure to call one of my brothers. They’re great at solving problems.”
“What about you?”
“Work isn’t my cup of tea.” He grinned devilishly.
“Says the man plowing a stranger’s driveway out of the goodness of his heart.”
“You’re no stranger, Emilia. Well, maybe to yourself.” His grin only widened. “But to us, you’ll always be sweet Hailee.”
Hearing him refer to her as sweet Hailee knocked the air right out of her. That was Josh’s nickname for her that had spread through the North family. She was shocked that Austin remembered.
“Well, thanks for plowing my drive. It was really nice of you and so much easier than me getting out there with a shovel.”
“It’s a fun machine to drive but don’t get used to it.” He gave her a quick wave before spinning on his heels and jogging back to the plow.
Emilia watched Austin reverse down her drive as the snow continued to fall.
Well, it was official. Word would soon spread around town that Emilia had not only returned but had bought her grandparents’ home. She let out a groan and spun around to go back inside.
She needed to buckle down on her writing or the bank that gave her the mortgage wouldn’t be thrilled.
The Olsens had left the kitchen table behind, and that was where Emilia had temporarily set up her laptop. She slid into one of the kitchen chairs and opened her blank document that had the Chapter One heading staring right back at her.
She glanced over at the empty coffee pot and the empty bag of non-existent coffee beans and chewed on her lip for a brief second. Emilia couldn’t be expected to write without caffeine. At the moment, she could barely get any writing done with the caffeine, so she couldn’t imagine trying without it.
And her driveway had been freshly plowed, so it had to be a sign. Without talking herself out of her decision, she jumped up from the chair and made her way to the front door. Maybe by the time she got to the store, her opening line would pop into her head. The publisher wanted it in the memoir style, so writing in the first person should be easy for her. It was how she wrote every day on her blog. Not that it seemed to matter, given the topic.
She locked up her grandparents’ home. No, wait. She needed to stop looking at the house as their home and embrace it as her own so she could start building new memories.
Emilia traipsed through the snow and unlocked her car, turning on the defroster before dusting off the fresh snow on her windshield.
Emilia remembered her Papa Jack always vowing that come summer, he’d build a carport, but by the time winter ended, he was so happy that summer had arrived he’d completely abandoned his carport idea and focused on the fun stuff about summers like hiking and fishing.
There were plenty of lazy day afternoons she’d spent with her grandparents up on Silver Ridge with a picnic basket and a never-ending supply of cookies. She’d much rather have those memories over a carport any day.
She climbed into her car and backed out of her driveway, careful not to drive into the small snowbank, and began heading toward town. If all of her free moments were going to be spent thinking back to Mama Cam and Papa Jack living here, she wasn’t sure how she’d move on, which had been precisely her worry so many years before.
As Emilia pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store, she noticed Austin’s plow and quickly spotted him chatting to a woman who looked utterly enthralled with whatever was coming out of his mouth. She quickly found a spot by the door and parked, but just as she was getting out of her car, she noticed a text had come through from her parents. It was short and vague.
Please call when you get a chance. We have something important to ask.
Emilia debated whether she wanted to call now or after the store, and unfortunately, her daughterly instinct told her to call now. It only took a few rings before her mom picked up, and what Emilia thought she detected made her heart sink.
“Hey there, daughter dearest. What have you been to up this fine day?” her mom asked.
“You mean what have I been up to?” Emilia asked, feeling her mouth turn dry. Disappointment, sadness, despair, and anger all rushed through Emilia’s senses as she realized her mom was drunk. She suddenly felt like a little girl again, the same little girl who’d begged for her mom and dad to stop drinking, to stop falling asleep on her, to remember to pick her up from kindergarten.
“That’s what I said.” Her mother suddenly sounded indignant.
“That’s what you meant to say,” Emilia corrected, and her mother huffed into the phone. She heard her father in the background hollering at her mother, asking where the remote was hiding, which was a sign that he was drunk as well. When he drank too much, he always thought the remote was hiding from him as if it suddenly grew legs and decided to take refuge under the couch or in the freezer. “So what is it you want?”
“Don’t take that tone with me.” Her mother’s voice turned shrill, and Emilia let out a sigh, wondering why in the world her mother had reached out if she was drunk.
“I’m not taking a tone. I just happen to be in the parking lot of the grocery store and wanted to see why you texted me to call.”
“I didn’t text you.”
Emilia bit her tongue and instead rolled her eyes. “Yes, you did, Mom.”
“Emilia Hailee Howard Hudson, I would remember if I texted.” Her mother laughed, punctuated by a hiccup. “But since you’re on the line, and I hate to ask, but your father and I need another loan. Not as big as the last one, but we’ve had some unexpected expenses.”
“I just loaned you twelve grand. What happened to it all?”
“What? You’re going to make me feel bad for nee
ding money?”
Guilt slammed into Emilia’s gut, and she let out a silent sigh. “That wasn’t my intention. I’m just taken aback.”
“So now that you’re a millionaire—”
Emilia’s stomach dropped. She hadn’t told her mother or anyone—except Mama Cam and Papa Jack—about her book deal.
“First, I’m not a millionaire. I received an advance that after taxes is nowhere near the money you’re thinking, and second, the other portion won’t arrive until after my book is finished.”
“Oh, boo-hoo.” Her mother feigned a sob.
This was the mother she hated. The mean one. What she remembered from being a little girl was that it came out often when her parents drank, which was most of the time. The thing about being an alcoholic was that it wasn’t just a part-time lifestyle. It consumed every waking second of her parents’ lives. No matter what they told themselves, there was no such thing as only one drink, and Emilia was guessing that whatever got them to this state after so many months of being sober was disguised as only one drink. Pushing aside everything running through her head, Emilia took a deep breath.
“How much did you need me to send?”
“Eight thousand.” Her mother sounded all business.
Emilia was shocked.
“On top of the twelve I already gave you a few months ago would make it nearly twenty grand in a few months. Where’s it all going?”
“Like it’s your business. Are you really going to make your own mother beg for help?” she scoffed. “It figures I’d be the one mother who had a millionaire daughter who turned her back on us.”
“I’m not a millionaire, and after taxes, I’ll be far from it.” Emilia ground her teeth into her bottom lip, not even recognizing the pain it caused because suffering her mom’s call was ten times worse. “But fine. I’ll get the check in the mail to you today.”
“There’s this great feature now. You can just send it electronically through an app.”
A Funny Thing About Love Page 8
