In Other Words, Love

by Shirley Jump

  Kate laughed again. “Kate Winslow. I don’t write political thrillers either, and I’m more of a cat person than a dog person. Either way, I think having a Pomeranian in any kind of book is a great idea.”

  Penny grinned. “Good. Then we can be friends, because we agree on that.” She raised her champagne glass in Kate’s direction. They clinked, and each took a sip. “So, who do you write for?”

  The writing question again. Kate stammered out an answer. “Oh, well, I…well, I don’t publish under my own name.”

  “Pen name?” Penny guessed. “I get that. I should have used one when I first started. Then I wouldn’t be stuck with my ex-husband’s last name on all my books.”

  “Oh, no. No pen name, exactly. I mean, I have a women’s fiction novel I’ve started but haven’t finished yet, and that will go under my name. I am already published, sort of, because I’m…well, I’m a ghostwriter.”

  “Cool.” Penny’s face brightened, and real interest shone in her eyes, unlike the judgmental sneer Loretta had given Kate a couple of weeks ago. “So you write other people’s stuff? That sounds fun.”

  “It can be. I love learning about people and putting the puzzle of their lives together.” Kate accepted a teeny-tiny wonton from a passing waiter and popped it in her mouth. She asked Penny about her writing, which turned out to be young adult fantasy. She had five published books already, under her own name.

  “That’s so cool, Penny.” All these years, Kate had dreamed of her own name on a book, yet had never submitted anything as herself. The dream had a nightmare on the fringes of it that held her back from finishing and selling that novel in her computer. “But weren’t you worried your books might flop?”

  Penny took a sip of her champagne. “Of course. I wrote them anyway.” She let out a little laugh. “At first, I was terrified people would hate my books and leave bad reviews. But then I realized that not all readers are going to like my books. As long as I love them, that’s all that matters.”

  “What if what I wrote is a hot mess?”

  “Then you make friends with a fellow author who will gladly talk about novels.” Penny grinned.

  Kate liked Penny already, and the two of them exchanged business cards. Penny glanced at the subtitle under Kate’s name. “So…ghostwriter. Have you written anything I’d know about?”

  Kate thought of the actress and race car driver she’d worked with, both well enough known in the public. And then there was Trent, who had three hundred thousand followers on Instagram, many of them, Kate was sure, women who’d fallen for that crooked smile and shaggy haircut.

  Women like her. No, she hadn’t fallen for him…exactly. She’d gotten wrapped up in a spell cast by a shared dinner and a few laughs over bowling. Nothing more.

  “No one I can tell you about,” Kate said, because sharing any of that would create a complicated conversation. “That’s all part of the deal when I ghostwrite. I’m supposed to be invisible.”

  “Then it’s about time you were visible with your own book, Kate Winslow.” Penny took her hand and tugged her across the room. “My editor’s here, and I know she has some colleagues who are looking for new authors. Don’t say no.”

  Kate’s own book had been started and stopped dozens of times. Maybe Penny was right, and it was time for Kate to pursue her own dreams. She took a deep breath. “Okay, introduce me.”

  Penny brought Kate into the middle of a conversation between two editors and an agent. Penny knew all of them and made introductions all around. Her endorsement piqued the interest of the editors and agent, and Kate found herself telling them all about the four sisters and mother in her book. “They find a stray dog who changes all their lives,” she finished.

  “Is it a Pomeranian?” Penny asked with a wink, and Kate laughed. The five of them chatted books for a while longer, and Kate left the conversation with a pile of business cards and an invitation to submit.

  “Gosh, thank you so much, Penny. I can’t believe they all asked to see the book.” Kate tucked the business cards into her pocket. A warm glow of confidence filled her chest.

  Just as Penny was turning to go, Loretta came rushing in, dressed in white head to toe and with her hair up in a neat chignon. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” She bussed Penny’s cheek and then Kate’s. “So glad to see you two met! Penny is a darling. Am I right or am I right?”

  “You’re too kind, Loretta,” Penny said. “Glad you could make it. Jeremy was asking about you.”

  Loretta rolled her eyes. “Is he talking about that dog he had to add to his book again?”

  Penny nodded. “Apparently, he wants to have PETA intervene.”

  Everyone laughed at that, but once again, Kate had that feeling of being on the periphery. It was as if all the people in the room knew some special language or had a secret code, maybe because they were both in a club she wanted to join—published as herself, not as a race car driver or actress or heiress. Or her ex-boyfriend.

  Penny and Loretta began talking about their author blogs, trading tips on increasing followers, and Kate almost added to the conversation. Loretta turned to her. “Do you have a blog, Kate? Instagram? Snapchat? You simply must if you’re going to be an author today.”

  “Well, I have a blog…sort of. But it’s not really under my name.”

  Loretta let out a long-suffering sigh. “I don’t know how you do all this ghost stuff. I would positively die if it was me.”

  “Well, Kate’s going to be working on her own novel,” Penny said with a bright smile, “so pretty soon, we’ll be reading her words of wisdom, I’m sure.”

  “That will be nice…when it happens,” Loretta said.

  With an early morning meeting with Trent on her schedule, Kate had a valid excuse to leave before Loretta’s well-meaning barbs pierced the happy balloon from the conversation with Penny. She said goodbye and shrugged into the fleece jacket.

  “Oh, Kate, that’s a darling jacket you’re wearing,” Loretta said. “Although it doesn’t do a thing for your pretty dress.”

  The backward compliment made Kate bite her tongue. “Thanks.”

  “Who’s is it? It looks too big to be yours.” Loretta leaned in close and studied the embroidered logo. “GOA. What is that?”

  “It’s an apparel company.” With Loretta this close, and Penny’s expectant gaze, all waiting for an answer, Kate snapped out the first thing that came to mind. “It’s my boyfriend’s jacket.”

  “Well, would you look at that.” Loretta flashed a grin at Penny. “Our Kate has a beau.”

  Kate kept yet another eye roll to herself and waved at both women as she headed out of the restaurant. What on earth had made her say she had a boyfriend?

  Saturday morning.

  If there was anything that said Trent was working too much, it was the fact that he was sitting in his office on yet another Saturday morning, along with a rather grumpy Sarah, who also had to come in that day to work on a couple of projects.

  “I could have been bingeing something on Netflix, feet up, husband at my beck and call because I’m carrying a human in my stomach,” she grumbled as he passed by her office.

  “Will this ease the pain of working on the weekend?” Trent held out a box of breakfast pastries from a local bakery. “I have these and a full pot of fresh decaf coffee in the break room.”

  Sarah’s gaze narrowed. “Did you order more flavored creamer?”

  “For my favorite PR person who is working on Saturday to help pull off a perfect book launch party? Of course I did.” Trent hadn’t thought of it on his own—Jeremy had texted him this morning and warned there’d better be cinnamon-roll flavored creamer in the break room and a box of treats for Sarah, or the Saturday workday would be more like a concert for grumps.

  For some reason, Trent couldn’t seem to remember anything he had to do. He’d been distracted over the
last week, increasingly so, which made no sense. Even when he’d been standing in the line at the bakery this morning, he’d debated and second-guessed his order at least a half dozen times. He’d always prided himself on being able to run in multiple directions at once, multitask while he did it, and still meet every deadline. The only thing that had been added to his schedule was the book, and the book…

  Came with Kate Winslow.

  He’d done his best to avoid in-person meetings with her ever since the bowling night. He’d done phone calls, emails, texts. If anything, the distance had made him think about her more, not less.

  When she’d emailed him at one in the morning, he’d found himself wondering if she was up late working or lying in bed, thinking of him. When he’d seen a voicemail from her on his phone after lunch, his pulse had done a little hop. When he’d sent her a text, he’d spent an inordinate amount of time waiting for the three flashing dots that meant her reply was on the way.

  “Only because you brought me those little muffins I love so much,” Sarah said, “will I tell you about this great opportunity for you for tomorrow.”

  He groaned. “Not working again. I need to see the sun once in a while.” When he’d started GOA, he’d vowed to give the employees plenty of time off to pursue their outdoor passions, to never keep anyone here from sunup to sundown, and to always build in some fun. His parents had worked themselves to death for that nursery, never taking vacations, rarely having a free weekend. Trent had told himself his company would be different—and it was, for everyone but himself.

  “What would you say to a little photo op…” she held up a hand at his quick rejection of the idea, “…while you’re hiking the Moulton Falls trail tomorrow?”

  That cut off Trent’s refusal. A hike? When was the last time he’d had time for that? And to combine it with work…the thought almost brought him to tears. That alone said he needed to get out more. “Why is this a photo op?”

  “You know my friend Carissa?” Sarah waved off Trent’s headshake. “Doesn’t matter. She’s a photographer who specializes in outdoor action shots. She’s going to be there tomorrow, doing some engagement photos. The weather this week has been so great, and there’s only a dusting of snow on the lower part of Bells Mountain, so it should be postcard-perfect. I asked her if she could take a few of you for the website, the book, the social media, and she said she’d love to. She’s a huge fan of GOA.”

  “Let me guess. You offered her a deal on the new raincoats and backpacks?”

  “Maybe.” Sarah grinned. “We need pictures, you need to get outside because you’re making all of us crazy here—”

  “Me? I’m not the grumpy one.” Already, the idea of a hike in the bright spring air had stirred a desire in Trent’s gut. As Sarah had said, the weather had been mild for late March, which meant the view at Moulton Falls would be spectacular. It wasn’t a hard hike at all and might be a nice change of pace.

  Sarah rolled her eyes. “Anyway, a couple of ponchos and a travel set is a small price to pay for both.”

  Trent chuckled. “Okay. Set it up.”

  Sarah gave him a thumbs-up and got to work.

  Trent ambled down the hall of the office. “Hall’ was a misnomer, since the entire space was glass and gave the illusion of being wide open. Every time he was here on a weekend, in his empty or almost-empty building, the expansive open area seemed surreal. He could see the dark, sparkling water and misty, undulating ridges outside the windows that fronted the entire floor, a different view north and south, east and west. Breathtaking, just as he’d planned it when he’d opened this space.

  The employees had complained about that openness, and as he walked toward the reception area, he looked across the floor and saw Sarah, sipping her coffee while she read something. It seemed almost…wrong to be able to watch every move his employees made. The survey had said his employees thought he didn’t listen to them. Trent made a quick phone call as an idea sprung to mind and left a voicemail to see if his crazy idea was even possible.

  Then the elevator doors opened on the top floor, and all thought stopped in Trent’s brain. Kate stepped forward, wearing a dark floral dress that nipped in at her waist and belled over her hips. She had her long hair in a messy updo and a pink tote bag over one arm. Her gaze swiveled across the lobby then landed on him. A smile broke across her face.

  Now that’s breathtaking. Absolutely breathtaking.

  He pushed the glass door open. “Thanks for coming in on a Saturday.”

  “No problem. Sometimes it’s easier to work without distractions and calls, like you’d have on a normal workday.” She flashed him that smile again as she breezed past him and into the office.

  He caught the scent of flowers and vanilla, a warm and lingering fragrance that had him following behind her like a puppy. What was happening to him? Since when did he get distracted by a woman? “Uh, my PR person is here. But that’s it. Let’s meet in my office. I have a great view and some comfortable furniture.”

  “Sounds good.” Kate stopped walking, turned back, and stared at him.

  “What?”

  That smile again. “I don’t know where your office is. It might be better if you lead the way?”

  “Oh, oh. Yes. Sorry.” Where was his brain today? Maybe it was all the long hours. Not the woman he’d left in his past who was seriously disrupting his present. “Do you want some coffee? Muffins?”

  Kate grinned. “I think that’s a rhetorical question, Trent. I love all snacks equally.”

  The words triggered a memory of them sitting on the floor of the common room in his dorm, studying for finals, with a junk food bonanza spread around them. On Trent’s side, crackers, chips, salty treats. On Kate’s, cookies and brownies and sugary decadence. She’d been so engrossed in her history books that he’d had a moment of feeling left out, so he’d snagged one of the packages of Oreos and slid it across to his side. “Hey,” Kate had said, “What are you doing?”

  “Getting your attention.” He’d held the treat above his head, leaning back as she’d leaned forward, reaching for it. She’d tumbled into him, and they’d fallen to the floor, tangled up in each other and laughing.

  “Trent?” Kate’s voice dragged him back to the present day. “Are we, uh, going to your office to start working or standing here in the lobby all morning?”

  “Oh, uh, yeah.” He led the way down the hall that wasn’t a hall, making a detour for the break room. “Better grab some before Sarah eats them all. These are her favorites.”

  “Sarah?” The word sounded like an innocent question, but Trent noticed Kate had stiffened beside him.

  No way she was jealous. Was she? “Sarah is my PR person. She wasn’t too happy about working another Saturday, so I buttered her up with some treats from the bakery on the corner.”

  “That little one with the pink awning? I ordered my grandmother’s eightieth birthday cake from them last year. They’re amazing.” Kate selected one of the muffins, put it on a glass plate, then poured herself a cup of coffee in a GOA-branded mug. “No paper plates?”

  He shook his head. “Can’t say you’re eco-friendly if you’re throwing out plates and cups every day.”

  She leaned against the counter and took a bite of muffin and smiled. “Thanks for these.”

  How he wanted her to smile like that because of him. Such a crazy thought. In a few weeks, the book would be done and they would go their separate ways. He wouldn’t see Kate in his break room, and he wouldn’t spend his morning waiting for her to smile again.

  Trent cleared his throat. “You said in your text you had some pages for me to look at?”

  “Oh, yes, sorry.” She dug in her bag and pulled out a file folder. “I’ve got fifty pages so far. Take a look and see if this is the tone and pacing you were looking for. If so, I’ll email them to you for a closer edit on your end.”

&n
bsp; Trent flipped through the pages while Kate finished her breakfast. He quickly got lost in the story, eagerly skimming the paragraphs, turning to the next page, looking to see what she wrote next. “This is really, really good. I mean, it’s my story, and I know every detail already, but I honestly can’t wait to see what’s on the next page. It’s engaging and interesting and a hundred times better than what I could do.”

  She blushed and averted her gaze. “Thank you.”

  “I’m serious, Kate. You should be writing your own books. This is…” he skimmed to the bottom of the page, “…absolutely amazing. You create a picture with your words so vivid, I can see it happening as I read.”

  “Well, it’s only because I had a good story to work with. And there’s a lot of details that aren’t in there—”

  “Like you.” Trent skimmed the rest of the pages. “You aren’t mentioned at all.”

  “Well, I’m not exactly an integral part of your life story.”

  You were, he wanted to say. You were a vital part of my life for a while. “If it’s an honest picture, then you should be in it.”

  “But I wasn’t part of the adventures, Trent, or the idea behind GOA. I was just on the fringes of your life.” She gave him a small, sad smile, then put the empty plate in the sink and gathered up her bag and coffee. “There’s no sense in retreading last year or last week or the last decade. Let’s get to work on the story behind this great company.”

  He had a feeling she was brushing him off and dismissing the subject. What was it about Kate that kept her in the shadows, instead of out in the open, as she should be? She was talented and smart, and well deserving of every accolade he could imagine. He let the topic go, though, and they settled on the sofas in his office. Kate set up a small tape recorder and powered up her laptop.

  For an hour, she asked questions, and he talked. She took him through the genesis of GOA, the early days when Trent was everything from accountant to shipper, and down the path of the first designs. Her questions made him pause and think, delving deeper into the reasons behind his every decision. Her coffee grew cold as her fingers flew across the keyboard, and Trent’s respect for her grew minute by minute.