“Why does he wear them? Does he feel sorry for her or something?”
“What? Oh no! He wears them because he believes in supporting anyone following their dreams. Or anyone down on their luck. Or anything uninspired. Really, Todd just loves helping people. Marcy isn’t the most confident person we know, but she has a talent for sewing and he has tried encouraging her to start an online shop. She doesn’t think anyone would buy her shirts. To prove her wrong, Todd has been buying one a week—and wearing it, by the way—for close to two years.”
My heart soars. Not flutters or twinges. No skipping a beat with affection. It soars to the highest of heights. Who does that? Who sees something in someone and then encourages and supports that person to follow their dream? Todd Chimolski. Tears prickle at the back of my eyes. Overcome with emotion over a man who I basically just shunned and didn’t acknowledge, I blink rapidly, pushing the tears aside.
“Has he always been like that?” I ask, schooling my features and speaking slowly so my emotional turmoil isn’t evident.
“Oh yeah. Todd’s the best. He only hires local whenever possible, supports small businesses, and if there’s something to be bought he’s the first in line. If he had a freezer, it’d be jam-packed with cookie dough, pies, jerky, and Girl Scout cookies. Basically, any fundraising effort.”
Looking at her disappointed, I say, “Sorry, girl. No cookies here. I was just in the freezer this morning.”
“Oh, he doesn’t live here. He lives with Bill. Well, not with Bill but at the building.”
I open my mouth to question what she’s talking about when her phone rings. Holding her finger up to keep me from speaking, she answers the call. “You’ve been gone like an hour. Miss us already?”
Todd.
“Oh, I don’t know. Let me look.” I watch as she rises from the couch and walks down the hall. She’s only gone a minute when she returns with a phone charger in one hand and her cell phone in the other.
“Feel like a little road trip? He forgot his charger.”
“Sure. But, doesn’t he have more than one?”
Aggi breaks out in a fit of giggles. Wiping her eyes she says, “Oh Donna, Todd is the biggest tightwad I know. He doesn’t drive that stupid car for nothing. He would never have two chargers. Also, it’ll be fun. I can show you a few of the other highlights our area has to offer. The resort is beautiful this time of year.”
She’s rattling off a list of places we will drive by and some sports bar she promises me will have the best pizza I’ve ever had, all while I put on my snow boots. Following her out the door, I’m grateful to see she’s used the remote start on her small SUV. My ass is already freezing, and I’ve only been out of the warm house for thirty seconds.
“This is where Todd lives?” I ask incredulously as I look out the window and up at an older building. It’s not the slums or anything but it is also a far cry from the beautiful chalet-like cabin we left an hour ago.
“For now. He insists on keeping his costs down so whenever possible, he stays in one of the apartments during the construction. Actually, both he and Bill live here this time.”
“You’ve mentioned Bill before, who is that?”
Unlatching her seat belt, she taps out a message on her phone, assumingly to Todd, then says, “His building manager? I think that’s what Todd calls him. He’s a former Marine and was a resident here before Todd purchased the building. He’s a nice guy, but I think he had some sort of traumatic brain injury in his last deployment which makes it hard for him to work. Anyway, most of the tenants were able to find somewhere else to live during construction but Bill had nowhere to go. He’d have been homeless. So, Todd offered him not only a job but to stay living here. Basically, he keeps an eye on the property to prevent squatters. Plus, I think Todd likes that someone else is interested in learning that ridiculous bird language with him.”
Soaring. That’s the only way to describe what my heart is doing right now.
When Aggi’s phone lights up again, she excuses herself and scurries from the car. I sit and watch as she enters through the main door to the building. Realizing I haven’t checked my email all day, I open the icon on my phone and scroll until I see one from my agent.
Excitement and nerves overwhelm me. This is it. If my agent was able to sell my small town romance series, I will finally be able to write what is in my heart. Or, if he wasn’t then back to dirty talking billionaires and their desire to spank asses. Taking a deep breath, I say a little wish to anyone that will listen.
Clicking the icon, my soaring heart plummets. Crash and burn. No love here.
Denied.
Want more of what you’ve been doing.
Sex sells.
Small town and slow burn don’t sell books.
Tossing my phone in my purse, I lean my head back on the head rest and wallow in my feelings. Rejection stings, even when you’re almost expecting it. My mistake was letting myself get sucked into the happy vortex Todd created. He showed me what a small town was like. What kindness and simple gestures mean to people. How easily it would be to fall into a life of simplicity with someone who is kind and affectionate. He believed in what I dreamed of doing.
If I called him right now, he’d tell me to write from the heart. Heck, he’s only a few feet away with Aggi. I can just as easily jump out of this car and make my way to his door. He’d talk to me. Listen to me and tell me what to do.
He’d also tell me I already know what to do and I don’t need permission to write what I feel. And, he would be right.
A cold blast of air hits me in the face as Aggi climbs back behind the wheel and slams the door. “Are you hun—” she begins but stops when she sees me. “Donna, what’s wrong?”
“My agent doesn’t think he can sell the book I was writing. I’ll have to scrap it for something else. Something sexier.”
“Why do you have to scrap it?”
Sighing, I rotate my head in her direction. “My agent can’t sell it.”
“What’s the problem? Just self-pub this book and then crank out one of your tie-’em-up-and-bang-’em books”. Easy peasy.”
I don’t respond. Instead I ponder her words and what I know in my heart I want to do. When she pulls into a parking lot that houses a large green building, I sit up in my seat. “Ags?”
“Yeah?” She turns the car off and unclips her seatbelt before turning to face me. “What’s up?”
“Do you think I could stay at the cabin a few more days? Long enough to finish this book?”
Smiling, she starts jumping in her seat. I’ll take that as a yes.
“Of course! I have to leave in two days for Spencer’s MRI but of course you can stay.”
“Shouldn’t we ask Todd? I mean, it is his house.”
“Eh, it’s fine. I’ll shoot him a text. Now, are you ready for the best pizza of your life?”
The defeat I felt a few minutes ago dissolves and my stomach lets out a loud rumble in answer to her question. Giggling, we exit the car and make our way to the front door of the building. A week. I can finish this book in a week and still make any deadline the publisher sets for the erotica series.
As Aggi would say, easy peasy.
Chapter 20
Todd
Putting my car in park, I look up at my chalet.
And then I immediately smack my own forehead for referring to my cabin as a chalet. What has gotten into me?
Donna. That’s what’s gotten into me. It’s been two days since “the brush off episode” as I am now referring to it, and I still can’t get every part of me on board with letting it all go. My mind keeps drudging up memories everywhere. Like when I had breakfast at the diner today. Lisa kept asking about the “blonde beauty” I had with me, like any of us expected Donna to stay forever. No one stays here forever so it would be ridiculous to think otherwise just because I had breakfast with her. Right?
Sighing, I roll my eyes at myself and climb out of my car. I don’t have time to have
an existential crisis. I have things to do and people to hire. In particular, a new cleaning lady, the reason I’m back here in the first place. Someone has to wash the sheets and clean the kitchen before the next renter comes in. Who knows when a Kardashian might decide to stop here for a while. It’s happened before. Remote resort towns are a favorite among A-listers. Yet another reason why real estate is such a good investment around here.
I step inside and shut the door behind me only to realize I’m not alone. I don’t hear any loud noises, just the vibrations of another person being in the same house. Almost like a sixth sense. Bruce Willis and I have that and our sexy voices in common. Well except the part where his character didn’t have a sixth sense.
Slowly, I make my way through the entry and into the living area, being as quiet as possible. I don’t want to tip off the person who may be about to murder me of my presence. I may not be buff but I’m scrappy and I will take every advantage I can get, especially the element of surprise.
Rounding the corner, I see a familiar mop of blonde hair on the other side of the couch. Is she the first victim?
“Donna?” I whisper so as not to tip off the man in the mask who will inevitably attack at any moment.
“Ohmygod!” she screams as she jumps up and into her karate stance.
Throwing my own hand over my heart, I jump back. “Cheese and Crackers! What did you do to your face?!”
Her whole body relaxes as she processes my identity. Then the realization of what I’m talking about hits her. She slowly raises her finger tips to her face, scrunching her nose. The movement sends little cracks across her face.
“It’s a charcoal mask. Wait, did you say cheese and crackers?”
Shaking my head to wave off her question, I pose my own. “You rubbed the shit from under the fire on your face?”
She attempts an exaggerated eyeroll, but since her face can’t seem to move, it only partially works. “No, Todd. It’s a deep cleaning face mask. Sucks all the impurities out of my pores and all that.” Her words are a little mumbled as she speaks through a frozen mouth.
“It looks like you were cleaning out my chimney.”
She crosses her arms and tries to raise an eyebrow. All it does is make a crack on her forehead. “If you expect me to start singing some of the tunes from Mary Poppins, you’re going to be disappointed.”
“If you can’t belt out some Chim Chiminee, you’re not the woman I thought you were.”
She smirks and takes a seat on the couch, I assume because there is no threat of murder anymore. As she resituates her bathrobe around her, I make a mental note to ask her thoughts on the fluffiness later. I have a lead on another brand if they need to be replaced.
“What are you doing here anyway?” she asks.
“I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“I’m staying an extra few days to get this manuscript done.” Noticing the confusion on my face, she adds, “Did Aggi forget to text you?”
Pulling out my phone, I scroll through my messages. “Nope. Nothing from our good friend Agnes who left on a jet plane and doesn’t know when she’ll be back again.” Donna looks at me blankly. “John Denver?” Still blank. “No?” She shakes her head slightly. “So disappointing. Anyway, it’s no big deal. I don’t have any more renters coming in until next week so you’re good. I was just going to get a head start on cleaning it up. But that can wait. I’ll come back when you’re gone. Do you need anything while I’m here?”
She bites her lip and shakes her head in response.
“Okay,” I say with a nod and begin turning toward the door. “Well then, I’ll just get out of your hair—”
“Wait!”
“Yeah?”
“About the other day—”
Aaaand here we go. I was hoping to avoid the issue, but nope. We’re doing it. Putting it all out there. So much for ignoring the elephant in the room.
“Todd, I’m really sorry—”
“Aw man! Don’t give me that look,” I interrupt, running a hand down my face.
She furrows her brow, creating more cracks on her face. “I’m not giving you a look.”
“You absolutely gave me a look.”
“No, I didn’t.” She crosses her arms, clearly getting agitated. Too bad she has no idea how long I can go at this. I have been out-arguing people for years.
“Uh, yes you did.”
“I don’t give looks.”
Looking around the room, I ask, “Where’s a mirror. Do you have a mirror?”
Cue the obligatory eyeroll. “I don’t need a mirror—”
“Fine. I’ll just take a picture.” Pulling out my phone, I set up the camera and shove it in her face. “Say it again.”
“Todd, quit.” She tries to push my hands out of the way. “I’m not saying it again.”
“Just do it, Donna. Make the face again.”
She huffs. “Fine, I’ll say it again but only because you’re annoying me. Todd, I’m really sorry—”
Click.
“See?” I say turning the camera around. “The face.”
“I don’t make a—” And then she looks at the picture. “Ohmygod, I’m totally making a face!”
Gesturing as if to say, “I told you so,” I put my phone back in my pocket.
Donna, however, looks a bit shell-shocked. “I feel like there are some people I need to find on social media and apologize for making the face at them.”
Waving her off, I plop down on the couch next to her. “I’m sure most of them don’t even remember.” Popping my feet up on the coffee table I make myself comfortable. “Whatcha doin’ anyway?”
She blows her bangs off her face. “To be honest, freaking out.”
And now she has my attention.
“Because of the face?”
Smacking me lightly she starts laughing. “No. Things are not shaping up the way I expected them to, and I’m trying to sort a bunch of work stuff out.”
“Like what?”
“You really want to hear about all my work problems?”
This time I quirk my own eyebrow. “You know I’ve been listening to Aggi babble about plot twists and character development and edits for years, right?”
“Hmm. Good point.” She leans into the couch, resting her head on her fist. “I’m just frustrated. My agent turned down the sweet romance I was working on, so I have to go back to my signature erotica first—”
“Wait, wait, wait.” I hold my hand up to stop her. “What do you mean your agent turned it down? What was wrong with it?”
She shrugs. “Nothing per se. My publisher doesn’t want it. Says my brand is all about the sex appeal.”
“Ridiculous.”
“Maybe. But true. The more I thought about it, the more I realized they’re right. I’ve built a particular brand and the guaranteed money will come from that. I see their point. I’m disappointed, but I understand from a financial perspective why they turned it down.”
As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. Business isn’t personal, it’s all about the moola. “So what are you going to do?”
“I already had a thirty-thousand-word outline in the can so I’m finalizing that.”
“Thirty thousand words?” I’m stunned. That’s like a short book. And she has it as an outline.
“What can I say? Sometimes when I’m in the middle of one project another one tries to take over my creativity. If I do a really detailed outline, it quiets that voice, so I can finish what I’m doing and get back to it later.”
I nod in appreciation because that’s impressive.
“So anyway,” she continues, “I’m going whip this one out since I have contractual obligations and then finish the story I want. I’ll self-publish it.”
“Sounds like a solid plan.”
“Yeah. Well. That’s only one of many problems. I also have a book releasing in three months and my narrator just cancelled at the last minute. Something about polyps on his voice box or someth
ing.”
Clearing my throat, I nod my head in understanding. It’s a sympathetic response to the polyps reference. Kind of like when you see another man hit in the crown jewels and can’t help but double over in solidarity. “Nodes.”
“What?” Her confusion shouldn’t surprise me. Actually it kind of does. Pitch Perfect is a classic.
“Never mind, continue.”
Looking at me like I’ve lost my mind she shakes her head before speaking. “We’re scrambling to get someone on board quickly, but it isn’t looking promising. If we don’t find someone immediately and they don’t start by next week, there’s no way production will have it done in time for release day.”
This is one of those moments in time where I have a choice to make. I can be a good friend, despite our previous fall out, and let her continue to vent. Or I can go above and beyond for someone who has a need. For me, it’s a no-brainer. Although I can barely believe the words myself when they pop out of my mouth.
“I’ll do it.”
She pauses mid-sentence and just stares at me.
Leaning in, I give her a second, but she still doesn’t respond. Or maybe she can’t. That face mask is looking pretty dry and cracked. “Did you hear me or are you having some kind of a seizure? What’s happening here, Donna?”
“I just—” She stops to clear her throat. “But you don’t narrate for anyone except Aggi.”
“No, I don’t narrate for anyone except my friends.”
Her eyes widen, but this time she looks delighted. Or her eyes do, at least. “Really?”
“Really. But don’t go telling people or spilling the beans about my secret identity. I have enough ladies following me around. I don’t need all Hawk Weaver’s fans coming after me too.”
She laughs and leans over, throwing her arms around me. “Thank you, Todd! Thank you! You single-handedly solved one of my work problems in a huge, huge way.”
“Don’t get all excited now,” I say, holding her a bit tighter. I will probably regret being this close to her later, but right now I’m enjoying the feel of her again. “I hear Hawk Weaver is a real dick to work with.”
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