Ready For You

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Ready For You Page 2

by D. Love


  “You’re writing a book with him, Penny, not going on a date, for Pete’s sake!”

  I decide to add him to Skype and be bold, instead of hiding behind a message. Besides, we are going to be doing a lot of this till the novel is finished. Once I have him all set up, I bring up the screen to call him. I pause for a minute, then dash to the bathroom to check myself in the mirror, hurriedly brushing my fingers through my hair, and smiling to check my teeth. I decide I look good enough and retreat back to my laptop. I click the call button and listen to it ring. Suddenly, popping up on the screen is a shirtless Kain with a beaming smile.

  “Hang on, Penny, I just got out of the shower,” he says.

  With my heart beating rapidly, I watch as he stands in front of the camera, pulling his shirt over his wet hair, guiding it down over his broad shoulders. Once he is finally dressed, he takes a seat in front of the camera. I can feel my cheeks go hot, hoping they are not as red as they feel.

  When I am able to form words after the shock of catching him half dressed, I hurry to tell him, “I’m sorry, would you like to do this later?”

  “No, I’m all good. How are you?” he replies.

  “I am good, thanks! So…I guess we should talk about the novel.”

  “Sure! I’m glad you contacted me, but I have to ask Penny, why did you choose me?”

  “Well…I mean…you just seemed ideal for this novel,” I say, and now I am sure my cheeks are giving me away. He just laughs, asking me to tell him my ideas. But the only thing I can think about is his deep sexy laugh. I have watched online videos of him, and never has his laugh sounded so deep, and, well, sexy. My eyes are exploring his face, as if it’s a treasure hunt. His hair is brown, but it’s darker right now, since it’s still wet from his shower. My gaze then travels to his eyes; he has long, dark eyelashes that encircle his brown eyes. I follow the lines of his high cheekbones, his jawline, and then lastly resting on his lips. I watch as he wets them with his tongue before he says something. I don’t even hear him, because I am too focused on his features.

  “Wow!” I mumble.

  “Wow?” he questions.

  “NO! Not wow, I meant...Hi,” I say, stumbling over my words. After I finally compose myself, Kain and I talk about the novel, and everything else we could think of, for the next two hours. Once I truly relax, just laughing and having fun, everything gets easier. I really cannot fathom what happened at first, but I am glad I am out of that mode. I think it’s because this is the first time we have ever Skyped and my nerves got to me. We even made plans to eventually meet up at a cabin he owns when the book is done. He says it’s a great opportunity to sign copies of the book together, and then we can share a little celebration.

  “Well, all we have to do is pick of our names for the characters,” Kain says.

  “Okay, I will pick the guy and you can pick the girl. How is that?”

  “Sounds good to me, although I will need time to think of a name. Why don't you start the first chapter and send it to me, then I will start off with the second chapter? By then I will have my name picked out,” he says.

  “Perfect! So, I guess we will talk soon. I hope you have a wonderful night,” I tell him.

  I watch as he comes closer to the screen to click end, but then he asks, “Penny? You like all types of music, right?”

  “I do, why?”

  “You’ll see,” he laughs, giving me a final smile and wink before ending our session.

  I don't even leave my computer, and I immediately start typing away. I have no trouble with inspiration this time. After finishing my first chapter, I re-read it to make sure I am happy with the flow, and double check my spelling. As I go through I find myself happy with what I have done until I find that instead of using my character's name, I have used Kain’s. So I quickly go back through, editing out his name and replacing it with the new one. I hear my notification for a message go off, and open up the other window to see its Kain.

  “Looking forward to reading how you describe your male character,” he says, signing it with a winky face.

  HA! He has no idea that the only image I can think about right now, is him.

  Chapter 4

  Kain

  “This is crazy.” I say to no one, still glancing down at my laptop. Finally, I push myself away from it, and continue my “to do” list for the week.

  Two hours go by running errands, paying bills, and eventually working out. Trying to focus on the art of running in place upon my worn treadmill, I quickly realize that all I can concentrate on is the image of Penny’s smile. Comforting, genuine, and, dare I say, sexy. That’s right, the fellow author who I have become accustomed to seeing only in her small profile picture online, is so much more. Soft, intelligent eyes, as green as jade jewels, peek at me through my daydream as I jog in place. Enticing light brown hair, almost blonde, that frames her face, filling me with something I hadn’t felt in couple years…enchantment.

  “All right, big guy, settle down…” I warn myself, aloud. With a slap of my hand on the exercise equipment, the machine comes to a sudden stop. “You’re a professional. She’s a professional. Let’s keep it that way,” I demand into the corner mirror of my workout room. My reflection stares back, sweaty and annoyed. And then, a small voice in the back of my mind speaks up…

  “Then stop thinking about her.”

  “I will,” I snap back, defiantly. Great. Now I am arguing with myself. Surely Penny wouldn’t approve of my inner “crazy.” But, let’s face it, I haven't felt this way in a long time. I am excited about the possibility of our new project. Enthralled about where this road may lead my writing, lead my career…our careers.

  From the other room comes the chime of my incoming email. I run to my desktop to find a flashing mail icon with Penny’s email address and little paperclip symbol attached. She has already sent her first chapter. With a faint cough, I let a large gush of air escape my lips. I didn’t even realize I am holding my breath, but I am. Suddenly, I can hear Penny’s comforting voice in my head again. That’s when I freeze in place. And that’s when the first sign hit me.

  Butterflies.

  “Oh, crap,” I whisper. That familiar feeling, like your stomach is tickling you from the inside, is everywhere. This sensation hasn’t been a part of my world for a long time, at least not lately. The last “true” time I had felt those fluttery bastards was when I met Sydney for the first time, my soon to be ex-wife. I was twenty-two, going on twenty-three, and just starting my writing journey. Sydney was barely twenty-one, and not even close to finding herself as a person, as a woman. The racing memories choke me instantly. A dull ache replaces the dancing insects in my stomach, and I decide to turn in for the night, without opening Penny’s email. I am no longer in a friendly mood.

  Sydney, my ex, is good at ruining my days and nights just with her memory.

  Sunday Morning:

  It is a new dawn, a new day. Time to start it better than I had ended the night before. Throwing on my favorite pair of worn jeans and sneakers, I then slid on a simple white T-shirt. Quickly brushing my teeth and heading out the door, I jump into my old muscle car. It’s a dark blue, 1971 Camaro, with two black stripes running over the top of its beautiful shell. As the engine roars to life, the radio station echoes into the morning air. One of my favorite songs rattles around the cab of the car, instantly reminding me of Penny and her smile. It takes me almost thirty seconds to realize I am sitting in my driveway singing along with the radio, lost in the thought of Penny and her email. A huge smile cuts across my face as an idea grips me with the intensity of a bad habit.

  “That’s perfect.” I say as I grin into the rearview mirror, and then put my car in gear.

  Three songs and two phone calls later, I pull into the only place open this early on a Sunday that sells tickets to live concerts. As I run to the ticket window, it becomes clear I am a few minutes early, they have yet to open up for business. Anxiously, I run a hand through my messy hair and take a calmi
ng breath. With a quick glance at the clock on the front of my phone, I decide to kill the time by finally reading Penny’s email. I shuffle through all the other messages on my cell phone and concentrate on hers completely.

  Instantly, I am intrigued by her idea and where she wants to go with the story. Her words are fluid and captivating. I hope I am up to the task of working on this with her. She is obviously better at writing in the romantic genre than I am. Trying my best to not doubt my talents, I continue reading until I am startled.

  “Sir!” A woman calls from the opening in the glass window before me.

  “Huh,” I stumble backwards a bit.

  Rolling her tired eyes, “Sir, may I help you?”

  “Umm, yes… I mean, I hope so…” Fumbling my phone into my back pocket, I smile nervously.

  “Well?” The woman taps an impatient finger on the counter, waiting on me.

  “I need to know when and where this band is playing in Virginia,” I say, handing the woman a piece of paper with two words scratched along it in my handwriting. The woman fumbles with the piece of paper in her hands, looking at the front and back of it before she speaks.

  “Virginia?” she asks, annoyed.

  “Yes.”

  “Sir, you realize we live in Las Vegas and not Virginia? This band will be in town next month, their headlining a concert at The Palms Casino,” she says, all but mocking me.

  “That’s great, but I need to know when they play in Virginia,” I say as calmly as I can, growing aggravated by her tone. She stares at me for a long moment.

  “Virginia,” she says, shaking her head before clicking her computer keyboard to life.

  “Yes, it’s for a friend.” Penny’s face leaps up in my mind. I hope I can pull this idea off. If so, it would be a fantastic surprise for her, and a wonderful way to say thank you for including me in her latest writing adventure.

  “That’s great, Sir,” She replies as she frowns.

  Moments pass before she addresses me with a small, but fake smile. “Well, it looks like you’re in luck. They are making a stop there in about a week in a half. Next Thursday, to be exact.”

  “Really! Perfect. I’ll take one ticket please.” I say with a smile, larger than it probably should be. I am just so excited that my plan may be possible.

  “There are only VIP tickets left. Very expensive.”

  My heart sinks a little. My money situation is in the toilet lately, thanks to Sydney and her batch of divorce lawyers. The ticket associate watches me wrestle with invisible decisions outside her window.

  “That’ll be $1,575.00, please,” she states, shrugging.

  Ouch. Maybe this is a dumb idea? Staring into my wallet, I pull out the last credit card I have. Silently, I pray I have enough left on it. I really want to give Penny something special.

  “Okay,” I say, sliding my VISA into her greedy little fingers. With a swift swipe of her hand, she runs my card. I wait, holding my breath.

  “Hmmm…” she mumbles, staring at her screen. She gives me a disapproving glare and slides my card through the machine once more. A few seconds later she huffs much louder than necessary.

  “That’s what I thought…”

  “Is there a problem?” I ask, feeling sick to my stomach.

  “I’d say so, Sir. This card has been reported stolen.”

  “What?” I gasp.

  “Yup. Stolen, with a capital S!” she scolds.

  “But it can’t be stolen. It’s my card. It has my name on it!” I practically throw my wallet and ID at her. “See, same name on my license.”

  “Sorry, Sir. I have to report this card to the proper authorities,” she says with a snicker, and slides my card under her desk. My heart sinks and my face flares with anger. “Good day, Sir.”

  With the closing of her teller window, I snap. Ripping my phone from my back pocket, one thought slams into me: Sydney. It had to be her. This had to be her doing. Frustrated, I swipe her number on my cell phone and wait as the ringer serenades me over the line. Pacing along the side of my car, she finally answers the call.

  “Kain, not now, not this morning…” she whines.

  “You reported my credit cards as stolen?” I yell.

  “Our credit cards!” she screams back.

  “You can’t be serious?”

  “Or should I say, MY cards!” she laughs.

  “Sydney, you can’t do this. You have everything else already. The house, the SUV, even the dog, Max! I need that income,” I try to reason with her, but it’s no use.

  “That’s right, and I’ll get the rest, too. Don’t call me again! You want to talk to me, you call my lawyers. Have a beautiful day, my love,” she sings, before hanging up on me.

  Rage explodes from my every pore and I slam my fists into the hood of my car with a scream. Before I can enjoy my tantrum fully, my phone rings again. This time with the caller ID of my agent, Amanda.

  “Damn it! I’m late!” I holler in a fit, finally noticing the time on my cell phone. I jump in my car, revving its engine, mimicking my anger, and answer the phone.

  “Kain?” Amanda questions, with worry in her tone.

  “I know, I know. I’m on my way,” I say defeated, and drive off.

  Chapter 5

  Penny

  Waking up to a beautiful sunrise, I grab my laptop and walk over to my breakfast nook to write. It’s been a week since I have heard anything from Kain. I sit, contemplating whether I should send him an email, inquiring if he is okay. No, I think I should wait a few more days to see if he will contact me. “You’re writing a novel together, Penny, not having a relationship with him,” I think aloud.

  Pushing the feelings down, I pick up my iPod and scroll through the music list until I find my old time favorite. “Ahh there it is, Air Supply.” I put in my ear buds, letting the music help me drift away and fill me with inspiration. Finishing up the chapter I am working on, I glance at the clock, realizing its time to get ready for the signing I have on my schedule for today.

  Standing in the bathroom doing my hair, my mind keeps slipping to Kain. How sexy his eyes are, and the way he smiles, always with a crook of his lips to one side. After throwing on lip gloss, I toss my make-up bag under the sink in the cabinet. Seeing the time, I head out the door.

  Tina is standing at the door of the bookstore as I pull around the corner. When she sees me, she starts waving like a three year old, jumping up and down, trying to get my attention like I can't see her. I give her a quick wave, hoping she’ll settle down and stop embarrassing herself. I park my car and she comes running over.

  “Penny, one day you are going to run so late, you're going to miss your own signing. Customers are already lined up, waiting. Come on,” she says, as she grabs my hand, dragging me into the store.

  “Remember, Penny, you have the interview with that well known blogger after the signing.”

  “I know,” is all I say.

  “Penny, please smile through the interview, don't space out. And please do not walk out like you normally do if they talk about Zack. You know she’ll ask about him, so please just let yourself talk about him. Let him continue to live through your memory,” she pleads.

  I prepare to respond, but she places her finger over my lips, shaking her head no. She gives me a gentle push forward towards the table. I spend the next six hours signing books, taking pictures with people, and having the greatest conversations I have had in a long time.

  Tina sums it up when she says, “If I didn't know any better, I think you enjoyed this signing.” I laugh at her, and begin packing my stuff away.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Lane?” Says a woman with her hand outstretched towards me.

  “Yes?” I say, taking her hand and shaking it.

  “I am Delphina, from Delphina Reads Too Much.”

  “Hello Delphina, you must be here for the interview?” I say, watching her face light up with a huge smile. I stare at her for a minute and her smile seems to put me at ease, giving me a lit
tle courage to answer whatever questions she has. I offer her a chair beside me, and she begins asking the normal questions about me, my writing career, past, present, and future. She is brilliant and kind with the way she asks her questions. Her laughter through the whole interview is contagious. I found myself laughing too. She finally asks me about Zack and she does so with such tenderness that all of the words just came flowing out.

  “So, Ms. Lane, can you give me a secret to share with all your fans?”

  “First, call me Penny, and a secret huh? Well, I am currently writing a romance novel with Kain Brooks, one that we hope to be releasing on or around Valentine’s Day”

  I watch her as her eyes grow huge and she writes on her pad of paper, beaming brightly. I thank her for the interview and when she reaches her hand out for me to shake it again. I grab her in a tight hug, whispering in her ear, “You’re amazing with people.” She thanks me, and starts walking away. I watch her as she beams all the way to the door.

  Tina runs up to me, wrapping me up in an enormous bear hug, excitedly shouting, “Woohoo, you did it, Lovah.” She tells me what an amazing job I did, with the signing and the interview. I tell her to hush and to try to act civilized while we are in public. We both start laughing as we walk out to our cars.

  “Should we go to lunch?” she asks.

  “No, I really need to get home. I still have a deadline to meet.”

  Losing her smile, she says, “Fine,” and gets in her car driving away. I stand there in the fresh air for a few minutes before entering my own car and heading home.

  I make it home, walk through the door, kick off my heels, and pull off my jacket. Walking over to my laptop, I check my emails. I scroll through them, not seeing the one I am hoping for, so I open up my other novel. I write for hours until I hear a grumble in my stomach. I go to the kitchen and make a simple dinner. I decide to eat while watching a little TV, in hopes of a distraction. Once I am full, I place my plate on the coffee table and I sit there thinking about the day. Today is the first day I actually feel at ease with life. My eyes start getting droopy...

 

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