Just Her Type
Page 10
When Brody heaved an impatient sigh, Kendra reminded him that she was still a huge fan of his work. Was it enough assurance? She could hardly wait to continue their discussion after he’d put his other affairs in order.
***
As Kendra walked to the lobby to meet Dominic, the conversation with Brody lingered on her mind. What if Brody officially ended his working relationship with Dominic to team up with her? That could ratchet up the tension between Dominic and her. Tension. Friend or foe? On the one hand, a little pressure would keep things interesting, exciting even. She could actually have an excuse to explore having a relationship with him. Or she could choose to stay the course and date a different type of guy when she returned to New York. Agh! Her streams of convoluted logic coiled around each other each like a double helix.
Other guys. She sighed. Scanning brief profiles required weeding out candidates based on stereotypes. Is Cecil always a bore? Is Bentley always a snob with an ascot and pocket watch? Are all Damians spawns of Satan? Is it possible to date a Bert and never ever consider the Muppets? Occupational profiling was far from foolproof, but Kendra had to start some place. She’d also found paying close attention to listed hobbies and interests helpful.
She renewed her vow to avoid the too-chiseled, geeky-hipster type. Kendra had her list down to six possibilities, whose profiles she’d found on the Cupid4You.com. She had already heard from two. She would meet each guy for drinks when she returned to New York. What happened with Dominic in Maui would stay in Maui.
Kendra considered mentioning to Dominic that Brody was thinking of leaving Impact. Wait. Why do such a stupendously foolish thing? At that point it she wasn’t ethically bound to inform Dominic of anything regarding Brody Goodwin. He wasn’t her client. Yet. And besides, it was Dominic who’d been so arrogant about authors’ comings and goings. He’d presented himself as quite the smooth operator with clients. It was just business. Good, confident agents should never ever take writers’ departures as personal affronts, he’d said.
There was no denying the little jolt of excitement coursing inside her at the thought of working with Brody Goodwin. This could be huge for her agency.
Chapter 13
Back in his room, Dominic managed to read and reply to several agency-related emails. He also went over notes for his Publishing and the New Digital Frontier panel discussion scheduled for the next day, though his thoughts kept circling back to Kendra. What a woman! Who knew a zip line and her fear of heights would lead to their first kiss? A kiss he’d wanted to plant on her lips from the moment he’d spotted her working that short black dress in Dallas. But it had been more than worth the wait. He’d savored the feel and taste of her. Everything about them as a couple felt right. He knew it and now she knew it. As he whistled on his way to the shower, someone knocked at the door. A heavyset middle-aged woman stood on the other side of the peephole.
Dominic opened the door. “May I help you?”
“Hello, Mr. Tobias.” She looked up at him from behind glasses magnifying her peepers to the size of matzo balls. “You don’t know me, but I know you.”
His mild impatience gave way to curiosity. “And you are?”
“Elnora Ostertag. I apologize for bothering you,” she said, though it was obvious she was not sorry in the least. “I had a devil of a time getting up here. Whew! Who knew this was a key-card-entry floor!”
“Looks as if you managed.”
“Yes, I have been resourceful tracking you down. However, I tried to get an appointment, but—”
“Okay,” Dominic said after realizing she was a writer with a book to pitch. “I’m doing a panel discussion tomorrow that includes a Q &A with the audience.” He kept his tone polite. “I will be happy to answer all of your questions then. Look forward to seeing you there. Good day, ma’am.” He moved to close the door.
The woman gave it a forceful shove to keep it open. “Wait! Just another minute of your time. I promise this won’t take long.”
Dominic didn’t have it in him to slam the door in the woman’s face. “What was your name again?”
“Mrs. Elnora Ostertag, but you can call me Elnora,” she said. “This visit is for my daughter. She wrote this brilliant manuscript—”
“And I, or one of the other agents at Impact, will take a look at a query letter. The guidelines for submissions are on our website. Good day, Mrs. Ostertag.”
Mrs. Ostertag pushed at the door again. “But I have the full manuscript right here!”
Dominic gnawed at the inside of his cheek when he noticed the briefcase in her hand. “Mrs. Ostertag, if you don’t mind—”
“I had to resort to one of those rip-off, high-interest payday loans so we could take this trip to meet to you here. We wasted all that money in Dallas, only to watch those cackling, clucking romance people pushing their trash, getting all the appointments! I was appalled!”
“It was a romance novelists’ conference. Members of the organization take precedence over non-members. I believe that information was included in the registration material.”
“But I don’t see why you couldn’t make time for at least one pitch appointment for serious literature, a manuscript with great scholarly value, if you will, from a real writer instead of wasting all the appointments on a bunch of oversexed hacks—”
“Mrs. Ostertag,” Dominic said wearily. “Vociferously disparaging other writers and their work will get you nowhere with me.”
“I know. I know. And I apologize! Oh, me and my big mouth. I realize you have clients who write, um, those books,” she said, as if classifying them as such made her want to hawk a loogie.
In Dominic’s experience, many of the genre’s biggest detractors had either never read any type of romance novel or still believed Fabio was the cover boy du jour.
“It’s my frustration, you see,” Mrs Oterstag continued. “We never had a chance to see you in Dallas, but I still believe you’re the only agent for Four Simple Wishes.”
“Oh? And why is that? I mean, seeing as how you’ve expressed such passionate disdain for a genre that’s a significant portion of Impact’s list. What makes you think I’m,” he cleared his throat, “worthy?”
“You recognize and represent serious literature, too. Penelope’s Wirthington’s debut, The Splendid Transgressions of Alton Whitesborough, for example. An American Book Medallion finalist and a Rowen-Reece Prize fiction finalist. It’s among my favorite novels of all time. After reading it I wanted to put Four Simple Wishes in your capable hands.”
“I see.”
“Oh, and I scour the publishing trades, too. I happen to know you’re in the most lucrative deal-makers club.”
Dominic smirked. All that highfalutin talk about serious literachah rarely quelled the allure of cold hard cash.
“Who says finance and excellence have to be mutually exclusive? Mama has bills to pay,” she said as if reading Dominic’s mind. “And this book is too exceptional to languish in a slush pile or at some agency’s e-file cloud service. If you could just take a peek, I’m sure you’ll agree—”
“Mrs. Ostertag, please, I’d hate to phone security, but I’m about two seconds away from—”
“Oh, all right.” The woman relented, her round face awash in disappointment. “I know this is crazy, but you see, my daughter has worked so hard on this and—”
“I understand, but it’s always better, not to mention efficient, when authors follow submission guidelines. Even if I’m doing a pitch session, I prefer a query, synopsis, and sample chapters submitted electronically as follow-ups. Full manuscripts, also submitted electronically, upon request.”
“And we have visited your site, but—”
“I look forward to seeing you and your daughter at the workshop tomorrow,” Dominic said. “Good day, ma’am.” When she took a reluctant step back, he closed the door.
Dominic shook his head, walking back to the bathroom for that shower. He’d encountered his share of overzealous writers over the
years. He’d experienced unexpected pitches in elevators, restaurants, the dentist’s chair, and even at a urinal. Talk about awkward. He’d heard of overly involved parents in performance entertainment, sports, and academics. Now he had his own story about his first encounter with a literary MOMager.
A short time later, he donned a pair of comfortable dark linen slacks and a loose, long-sleeved green linen shirt for his dinner date with Kendra. After his lunch with her back home, he’d made reservations for two at one of the island’s best luaus. At the time, she hadn’t agreed to join him for dinner, but he’d planned ahead anyway. Gotta keep hope alive.
When he opened the door, he nearly stumbled over a cardboard box with his name on it. He scooped it up and shook it. Judging by the size and weight, he suspected it was the doorstopper of a manuscript that the persistent Mrs. Ostertag had tried to pass to him earlier. The handwritten note attached read: Just read the first few pages. You won’t be sorry.
He’d dispose of it later, he thought, tossing it on the luggage rack. He stepped into the hall and looked both ways. As he made his way toward the elevator, he expected Elnora Ostertag to tackle him at any second.
Chapter 14
At dusk, Dominic met Kendra in the hotel lobby. It was a wonder his tongue didn’t roll out of his mouth like a blowout noisemaker: Mamacita rica was stacked with a slip of a waist flowing into curvy hips and a round butt, killing it in those shorts. His gaze skimmed from her toned, shapely legs to the edge of the clingy, gravity-defying strapless top. She adjusted the gauzy white wrap draped over one arm and smiled, her lips painted with a nude gloss. Her hair was gathered in a high, silky ponytail, which made her pretty eyes look even larger. That streak, now blue. A white hibiscus bloom nestled next to one ear.
Sure he looked stupid and saucer-eyed, he cleared his throat. “You, um, look incredible.” He briefly averted his gaze to get his bearings. He took her soft hands in his and then released them. He wanted to pull her inside his arms for a more intimate greeting, but couldn’t chance making her uncomfortable with effusive PDA in a lobby filled with other industry professionals.
“Thank you. And you don’t look so bad yourself. Cool shirt. Lime. Bright lime, I might add.”
“Green. And I assure you it doesn’t glow in the dark.”
“Oh, darn it!” Kendra laughed as they headed to the Jeep he had rented for his stay.
“Hey,” said Dominic, tapping the metallic quarter-sized tattoo of a sun at the top of her right shoulder blade.
“It’s temporary.”
“I know. I’ve yet to see a real one that flashes.”
“I have those, too. Real ones, I mean.”
“Oh?”
“A small sun, half moon, and stars in more discreet places,” she replied with a playful glimmer in her eyes. “You know what they say about location, location, location.”
“And I hope to take a tour someday soon.”
They stepped out into the balmy night air. He helped her settle inside the Jeep.
“Top on or off?” His gaze lingered on her thighs as she tugged at her sliding shorts and made herself comfortable on the seat.
“On for now.”
Dominic went around to his side and climbed in. Soon they arrived at the historic harbor town of Lahaina, the location for the luau. Dark water glittered nearby.
They sat on mats, feasted on dishes of poke, lomilomi salmon with poi, Pipikalua beef, and then enjoyed a show featuring hula and fire dancers.
Dominic couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt as content as when he admired Kendra, her face glowing a deeper caramel from her time in the sun. Her long ponytail swayed in the salt-scented breeze.
As Kendra enjoyed the ukulele music, he fantasized about releasing that clip holding her hair so he could run his fingers through it and watch it splay around her satiny shoulders. His attention moved to her legs and then up to the curves of perfect, lush breasts cradled in a top designed to wreak havoc on a man’s reserve. And where were those celestial tattoos on her heavenly body? The mystery made him want to gnaw his knuckles, but he managed to keep his composure, even as his pants grew snug in the crotch.
Kendra looked away from the dancers and musicians to catch Dominic staring at her.
She teased him with a flirty smile.
“Think it can get any better than this?” Dominic asked.
“We can give it a try.” Kendra’s voice dropped to a seductive tone as she leaned toward him, providing a nice view of her cleavage. He wanted to bury his head there and not come up for air. More blood rushed below his belt, making him feel as if he were about to explode.
He reached for a glass of ice water and gulped it.
“Up for a little walk on the beach later?” he asked after he put down the glass. Was she thinking what he was thinking? Was she giving him the look?
Kendra replied with another playful grin.
It wasn’t a flat-out no. Hope! Still, Dominic wasn’t sure what to make of this more seductive and compliant Kendra. Was it just about the kiss they’d shared on that zip? Curiosity left him vulnerable to a nagging inner voice; something had definitely shifted her attitude. Something besides the aloha spirit and their mutual physical attraction. Was her smile sexy? Or smug? He wasn’t the paranoid type, but he couldn’t contain his suspicion as he studied her. Earlier that day when he’d stepped on the tour bus and found Kendra and Brody with their heads together, professional and personal jealousy had rocked him. But he couldn’t determine which would bother him more. Losing Kendra to Brody, a rival for her affections, or losing Brody to Kendra, a rival for clients?
Brody had offered a story about how he’d happened to end up seated next to Kendra. What sort of chump did Brody take him for? He had to hand it to him though. Brody had been inscrutable. Kendra? Not so much. Jumpy was the best way to describe her demeanor.
“What?” Kendra asked.
“You look beautiful this evening,” Dominic replied, shaking off the disturbing thoughts. What the hell was wrong with him? He was finally out on an island date with the woman of his dreams, and he was going to ruin it with nonsense. “It’s impossible to take my eyes off you.”
Kendra grinned, dipping her chin to look up at him through her lashes. “Thank you.”
Mercy. Dominic loved when she looked at him like that. They finished their meal in companionable silence and enjoyed the show.
Later that evening, they took a leisurely stroll through a crowded street lined with galleries, clubs, and historic buildings. Storefronts featured items echoing Lahaina’s mid-nineteenth century whaling past. They walked south to the famed, more-than-a-century-old banyan tree before heading back to the Jeep.
After helping Kendra inside, Dominic climbed behind the wheel, removed a folded sheet of paper from his wallet, and reached for a small flashlight.
“So, where are we headed exactly?” Kendra asked.
Dominic unfolded and scanned the paper and then tapped information into the Jeep’s global positioning device. “I was hoping we could explore a particular stretch of beach. I’m told it’s one of the most beautiful spots on the island, that finding it is worth the effort. These directions came from a reliable source.” He reached toward the glove compartment for a crisp paper map. “I don’t have a problem asking for directions, but I don’t blindly follow directions from people or devices. I also don’t trust that so-called infallible compass many men believe is hardwired in the Y chromosome. I need to see the big picture and have a general idea where I’m headed.” He studied the paper map for another few minutes, checked the written directions, and GPS map again before tossing the flashlight aside. “Nor do I believe using my blinkers to signal a lane change is a sign of weakness,” he added as he activated a blinker and navigated the vehicle away from town toward the highway. He glanced at Kendra. “Are you game?”
“The beach it is, captain.” Kendra saluted him. “Besides, I can’t resist after observing the way you approach directions.”
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“So all this time I’ve been trying to charm by telling you how beautiful and intriguing you are, to impress by sending yarn, and even exalting the wonders of moon shoes in that Fingerhut catalog when all it took was revealing I refuse to be one of those knuckleheads who won’t ask for directions or check a map? The sort who lets GPS or macho male pride lead him off a damn cliff?”
“Exactly. Maps are sexy!”
“My kind of girl. Just how nerdy are we? But you forgot to mention that kiss on the zip.”
“That was wonderful, too.”
“With more to come?” Dominic reached out to take her hand again and kissed it, releasing it only to work the manual gearshift.
Kendra smiled in what looked a lot like agreement.
Chapter 15
As the pair rode along a strip of road that skimmed the shoreline, Kendra settled back in her seat. She’d expected to say no to moonlit beach strolls with Dominic, but when he looked at her that certain way, she found it difficult to refuse him anything. She took consolation in her plan to make other dates through Cupid4You.com when she returned to New York. Succumbing to some island magic was to be expected, after all. She did not think it was possible, but Dominic looked even more handsome that night. He’d dispensed with his glasses for contacts, maybe? She had no idea if the specs he usually wore were for fashion or function. Maybe a bit of both. But now nothing distracted from those piercing, dark eyes.
“So, what was your favorite book as a kid?” Dominic adjusted the rearview mirror and then covered her hand again, softly stroking the skin with his thumb.
Where was it written friends couldn’t hold hands? “In grade school? Any and all things Nancy Drew. Around sixth grade, Sweet Valley High and anything by Judy Blume. A little later, Sharon Draper. What about you?”
“Robert Heinlein, Isaac Asimov, and Ray Bradbury.”
“You read them in grade school?” She cursed the gearshift when he had to release her hand again.