by Pat Dale
“All I did was to take your manuscript, exactly as you wrote it, and send it in to an old college friend of Ozzie’s. The most I’d hoped for was a good analysis of your work and some pointers to help you achieve the perfection you’re after. I really on had the best of intentions. I never meant to upset you.”
Samantha chewed her bottom lip and attempted to control her temper. “Okay. I’ll give you that. I am after perfection. But I wanted to send it after I’d gone over it again. Now I suppose I’ll have to find another publisher, they must think I’m a baby to have my mother send my work in for me.”
“No you won’t. The publisher actually thinks you sent the submission, and they’ve send a contract offer. Come inside and you can see it. They’ve optioned the other three books in the series. Ozzie says that type of offer is rare, especially for a debut author.”
Samantha was stunned. “They think I submitted it? Do you know unethical and creepy weird that is? It’s not even legal, I could sue you. Do you realize that? I feel like you’ve violated me. God, how could you do this and think it’s a good thing?
“Samantha, look at it this way. Your novels have a good home with a reputable publisher. All you need to do is sign the contract and send it back. They never need to know you didn’t make the original submission. They have the first one already, and they want to begin editing it right away. Hal said he’ll set up a schedule to release your books, one every six months. That way, your readership will grow and your readers will be panting for the next book. You’re on your way to the New York Times Best Sellers List.”
“Right, the New York Times Best Sellers List. I can just see it now.”
“Samantha, don’t be sarcastic. The acquisition team loved your voice. Said it was a fresh approach to regency historical writing. Honey, we just had your best interests at heart. This is your big chance to have the career you’ve always wanted.”
“What I want right now is to crawl under a rock Of course, I’ve dreamed of getting my work published. But I wanted to do it on my own, submit my own work, when I’m ready. How convenient to have an old buddy just waiting to publish your daughter’s scribbling. I’m humiliated, to say the least. I’ll never know if I’m really good enough or my daddy just calling in a favour.”
“Damn it, Samantha, it’s not scribbling! Your work is damn good, or my old pal would have said so. He just happens to be the head of one of the best publishing houses in the world. If he says it’s good, it’s good, and that’s that.”
“Yeah. That’s that, all right.” She pushed past them and stomped up the steps and into the house. Dealing with her parents would have to wait. It was time to get ready to march her newfound friend down the aisle to her happily ever after.
* * *
Troy fussed and fumed after he’d gotten into his tux. He’d spent little time in the bedroom, other than to get cleaned up and dressed for the wedding. Each time he glanced at the still unmade bed, he winced. Making love to Samantha was the realization of all his fantasies. Better than anything he’d ever dreamed. And she’d been a virgin. The knowledge humbled him.
He loved Sam with all his heart, and he’d let her down in the worst possible way. He never should have let Sally talk him into keeping his mouth shut against his better judgement.
It was his own fault he faced an uncertain fate. He should have known Sam would be upset at having her work Shanghaied and submitted without her knowledge. She was so damned independent and proud. He’d hoped Sally would be correct and Sam would have been happy they’d paved the way for her. He still felt she should take every advantage offered to her, no holds barred. Damn it, it would still be her work that either made the grade or failed. He’d taken any help his father offered when he took over the business and been glad of it. Troy looked at his watch for the hundredth time, then glanced in the direction of the silent phone. Growling deep in his throat, he stomped out to his car and headed for Branson. Please God, Samantha would show up for Rose.
* * *
JT decided on a noon ceremony, followed by a huge banquet in the great hall. Then his band, augmented by a number of celebrity musicians, would host a dance until six. Finally, a private dinner for the wedding party was planned at an exclusive restaurant.
Rose went over the plans again as she waited for Samantha.. She needed help with her dress and train. Mostly, she needed her friend to buoy her spirits. For some crazy reason, she’d gotten a bad case of the jitters overnight.
When Samantha came into the quarters that had been set aside for the bride, Rose leaped across the room and hugged her. “Where have you been, girl? I was afraid you overslept or something. I need help.”
“Don’t we all?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Sorry. I’ve been in a bad mood this morning, that’s all. Now let’s get you dressed so we can get this show on the road, so to speak.”
Rose smiled. “Okay! That’s the Samantha I remember. I tried to get this thing buttoned and zipped but you can see I failed miserably.”
Samantha stared at her friend and sighed. “Turn around so I can finish zipping the back for you.” She got the zipper up, though the bride’s measurements had increased since the fitting. “I think we should leave the train off until the last moment. You’ll probably have to go to the bathroom just before you walk down the aisle.”
Rose laughed. “Yeah. I’ve already gone six times and I’m ready for the seventh. I guess it’s to be expected when you’re expecting and you have pre-wedding nerves on top of that.”
“Funny girl. It’s to be expected when you’re about to sign over your entire life to a man you hardly know.”
“Samantha, that’s not fair. I know all I need to know about JT. And my life has already changed so much a little bit more won’t even be noticed.”
“Don’t count on it. Men change. Amend that. Some men change. Some never do, even when they should.”
“Now you’re talking in some kind of code again. What did you mean?”
“Oh, nothing much. Don’t worry about me, Rose. I can take care of myself.”
“I thought that, too. Just look at how well I was doing before JT came along.”
She shook her head and stared straight into Samantha’s puzzled eyes. “Sometimes, you have to take a stand, but other times it’s best to just let things come together for you.”
Samantha frowned, puzzled by Rose’s words of wisdom. How could she know what was going on in Samantha’s world? “Have you talked to Troy today?”
“No. Why?”
“No reason. Have you heard my good news?”
Rose’s eyebrows lifted and she squealed in delight. “You getting married?”
“No! Where did you get an idea like that?”
“No idea. I just kind of hoped you and Troy would be getting things worked out. That’s all.”
“That’s all, all right. No, I meant my good news that a publisher has offered a contract my first novel with an option for the other three.”
“Really! That’s wonderful, Samantha. How soon can I buy them and read them?”
“I’m not sure. They want the first one right away, so maybe six months to a year. The rest will come out later.”
“The rest? You’ve sold more than one?”
“Just optioned. If the first one tanks they likely won’t pick up the rest. It wasn’t me anyway. That’s the bad part about the good news. My parents, wonderful enablers that they are, sent my stuff in without telling me. They thought it would be a great surprise.”
“Well, it’s wonderful they offered a contract.” Rose paused. “But I don’t like the fact they went behind your back. Is that even legal?”
“Yeah, I guess the contract offer is good. But, I’m not thrilled with how it came about. I think you’re right, what they did wasn’t legal, at the very least it wasn’t ethical. Dad should know better, for heaven’s sake. Now, I guess, I’m going to have to get to work polishing the others before I subm
it them. I’m just really not sure how I feel about all this.”
“How many did your folks send in?”
“Just one, but the publisher wants them all, it seems. I have three finished, including the one my folks sent. The fourth is about half done. I’ll have to go back, though, to polish the second and third ones before finishing number four.”
“Sounds like a dream come true. I’m so happy for your success, Samantha.”
“Yeah. A dream. I’m just not sure whether it’s a night mare or a good dream.”
She blinked rapidly as a thought flashed through her head. Her future had just come into sharp focus and she knew now what she had to do. But first, they had a wedding to pull off. “Rose, I’m going to go out to see if we need to do anything else while we wait for the music to begin.”
“Okay, but don’t stay away long. I’m already getting the jitters from waiting around by myself.”
“I’ll be right back.” She went through the door but didn’t go to the front of the room. Instead, she slipped into an empty storage room and pulled her smart phone out. Within a minute, she’d located several motels in the area where she planned on spending the night. Time to get out of Dodge.
It would take a half day’s drive to get to the location she had in mind. Before that, an hour to pack while her folks were out of the house. Getting Sally to go with her dad would be the real trick. Calculating the time, she contacted a well-known motel chain and made a reservation for the evening.
On her way back to Rose, Sam decided she’d travel light. No need for heavy winter clothing where she was going. With each step, her confidence grew. This just felt right. She could write anywhere, and with publisher’s information in hand, she’d be able to handle any further negotiations without further interference from Mom or Dad.
Or from Troy.
Chapter Thirteen
The wedding was perfect. JT looked more like a tall Brad Pitt than the country music singer he was. Rose looked like, well, the picture of a healthy young woman in love with life. Her gorgeous red hair had been coiffed by Branson’s best, and crowned her glowing face as she strode down the aisle to the man of her dreams.
All in all, it was a classic wedding in a not-so-classic setting. Rose’s parents were pleasant enough when Samantha met them, though she knew it was only their reserved nature that kept them from making a scene. It was clear to Samantha they still didn’t approve of their new son-in-law, and probably never would. Not that it mattered to Rose in the least, a fact she’d made perfectly clear to her mom in Samantha’s presence.
Troy behaved with impeccable grace, to Samantha’s relief. He said nothing of the night before, or of his proposal. She wondered if he’d said those things in the context of finally getting what he wanted from her. Surely, he wouldn’t have stooped to relying on a pledge of faithful love and an expensive ring just to bed her. Would he?
The more she thought about it, the more she became convinced that was exactly what he’d done. Maybe he’d only asked her to marry him because he felt guilty about lying to her well that and the fact both his parents and hers were pressuring him. Well, she’d show him a thing or two. Her parents, too. When they found her gone, perhaps they understand how horrible what they’d done was in her eyes.
* * *
By the time the banquet was in progress, Samantha had given more thought to her escape plan. Better to slip out now while everyone’s attention was on the wedding couple and the festivities. She figured she had at least an hour to go home, pack, and head south before she would be missed to the point that they’d start looking for her.
She’d have at least a day before the authorities could legally start a search for her as a missing person. By then, she’d have sent a message to her dad’s computer at the Herald office explaining what she was up to. She’d reveal part of her scheme, enough that they’d leave her alone. As for Troy, well, it was none of his damn business.
She waited for the traditional toasts to the bride and groom before excusing herself to go to the restroom. Sally and Ozzie were engaged in conversation with the bride’s folks and didn’t even notice she’d left the hall.
At home, she changed into jeans and a tee, leaving the bridesmaid’s dress on her bed for Rose. She packed all her casual clothes into the three small suitcases she’d rarely used since college. As an afterthought, she threw a couple of light jackets into the car.
Adding a cosmetics case and her computer to the full trunk of her S80, she left a note on the dining table, explaining that she would contact them in a few days to let them know she was okay and not to worry. She made it clear she wanted to be alone to think things through before making further plans for her future.
Her plan was to go by back road to Harrison, Arkansas. After a night’s rest there, she could use GPS to determine the path to her destination. Remembering the brochure she’d gotten months ago, she was sure she could talk her way into that private writer’s retreat in northeastern Texas. With contract offer and manuscripts in hand, she hoped they would welcome her with open arms. She had plenty of money, credit cards, gainful employment, and transportation. What more did she need other than a place to write in peace?
She’d seldom traveled in Arkansas, but her decision to use back roads kept her from going too fast. Besides, she was in no hurry now. She was determined to enjoy the trip. No more small town newspaper. No more untrustworthy boyfriend. No more meddling parents. Ah, yes, she’d enjoy the hell out of this flight to freedom!
* * *
Late in the day, caution kicked in just as Sam pulled into the motel on the outskirts of Little Rock. She thought of herself as a fugitive and therefore couldn’t afford to leave bread crumbs that would reveal her getaway path. She eased back onto the road and drove on in the night, looking for a small community and some nondescript motel. She had the cash, so there’d be no tracing her credit cards down here.
Just as she was about to merge with southbound Highway 71, she saw a likely place to stop for the night. Even better, there was a nationally franchised restaurant next door. For the first time all day, she had an appetite. Once she’d satisfied her hunger, hopefully, the motel would have a comfortable bed she could make good use of.
It did. The room was bright and clean, too. Within minutes, she’d showered and dropped between the sheets. Her last waking thought was of her life-long pal, and how she’d avoided Missy at the wedding. She felt a little guilty she hadn’t shared her plans with her best friend. This time, though, it wouldn’t have worked to tell Missy what she was about to do. And now, she didn’t dare correspond with anybody from home until she was settled.
* * *
Nobody noticed at first that Samantha hadn’t returned to the banquet table. After a half hour, Sally noted the empty chair beside Missy. Thinking it odd that Samantha would take so long in the bathroom, she looked down the table to see Troy chatting with JT and his bride. Samantha hadn’t gone off with her beau, so where was she?
A few minutes later, as the dinner was winding down, Sally tapped Ozzie on the shoulder. He turned to her, his face in a deep scowl. “You wondering where our daughter is, aren’t you, darling?”
“Yes. You noticed her missing, too?”
“I did. I figured she was out in the lobby talking to friends, but looking around, all her friends are in here. So where is Samantha?”
“I don’t know. But if she’s not coming back to wish the happy couple good health, I’ll have a word or two with her. That’s just not acceptable in my book.”
“Nor in mine. We raised our girl better than that. And that raises the hackles on my neck. What if she went outside and was abducted?”
“Surely not here in downtown Branson, Ozzie. I can’t imagine a thing like that.”
“Neither can I, but what other explanation is there?”
Sally shook her head. “I don’t know, but it worries me. Let’s go home and see if she’s there. Maybe she got sick or something.”
“I’ll
give her a ring on my cell phone.” He pulled it out and used his speed dial. No answer and no ‘leave a message’ reply, either. Samantha’s phone was offline.
“No answer and her phone is off. That probably means she’s upset at something.”
Sally shook her head again. “Probably. I wonder what it is this time. Let’s go outside and see if we can spot her car. If it’s still here, she’s not too far away.”
They stopped beside the Silcoxes and shared their well wishes. Then they went out and scoured the parking lot. Samantha’s Volvo was nowhere to be found. Ozzie said, “She isn’t here, Sal. Her car’s gone. I’m going back in to see if by chance Troy knows anything. Then we’ll go home.”
* * *
Troy had spent the last hour worrying about Samantha. She’d been totally sweet during the ceremony and immediately after. Then she’d left him high and dry. When they went in to the wedding dinner, she’d deliberately seated herself on the other side of Missy, so he couldn’t talk to her. That hadn’t bothered him. She was still upset, and he’d begun to realize that she had a point. He and her parents had interfered in her affairs.
Still, he hoped she just needed a little time to cool down. But after she headed for the restrooms and didn’t return, he had a sinking feeling that something was amiss. Samantha wasn’t someone who would duck out on the wedding couple without a word of congratulations. Something was wrong.
Just as he started for the main door, he met Ozzie returning from outside. “Mr. Turner, have you seen Samantha?”
Ozzie shook his head. “No. I was hoping you’d have an idea where she went.”
“No clue. She seemed okay friendly during the ceremony, but pretty cool afterward. I think she’s still upset that she didn’t get to submit her writing herself.”