Another Chance at Love (Another Series Book 1)

by Suzanne Sweeney

  Unfortunately I do. “Sorry to disappoint, Gina, but I’m not here to sell another book today.”

  “But if you were, you’d send it to me first, right? You know – me and Gail.”

  I don’t know why, maybe it’s because of her enthusiasm, perhaps it’s visiting this place again, or it might just be my pride, but I blurt out, “I might have written a couple of chapters. If you’re serious, I could . . .”

  “No way!” she interrupts.

  “Way.”

  “When could you send it?”

  “How about right now?” I pull out my laptop and fire it up. “Do you still have the same e-mail address?”

  “I do. This is great. I can’t believe it. I’m going to read it the minute I get back to the office.” She looks down at her watch. “Oh, shit. I have to go. I’m picking up lunch for Gail’s big meeting. She’ll kill me if I’m late.”

  She gives me a big frisky hug and a friendly wave to Cole as she scurries away.

  I dash off a quick note about how nice it was to run into her today, attached the draft of my manuscript and hit “send”.

  Despite my tendency to think and strategize, I do believe in signs. Sometimes, we need to simply throw caution to the wind and travel in the direction that the fate leads us. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Gina wandered in here at the exact moment Cole and I happen to be having lunch. Everything happens for a reason. We don’t meet people by accident, they are meant to cross our path for a reason. Someday, all of this will make perfect sense.

  Only time will tell how this particular turn of events will shake out.

  After we enjoy our lunch, I insist that we visit Central Park. I haven’t gone to the zoo in ages. Plus, I have a special treat in store. It’s a quick ride by taxi and in less than five minutes, we’re standing at the zoo entrance.

  The zoo is laid out in a circle, and I plan to save the best for last. Our first stop is an indoor exhibit for tropical animals. I want to rush past the snakes, but Cole insists on stopping. He stares at the scaly beasts that are just lying there, barely noticeable and fairly well camouflaged. “What’s so fascinating?” I ask.

  “Nothing. I’m just wondering what they’re thinking.”

  “That’s easy. They’re wondering how long it will take to digest you and whether or not it would be worth the effort.”

  He laughs. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

  I drag him past the bats that are just hanging upside down and we stop to watch the black and white ruffed lemurs. They are absolutely beautiful. I could sit and watch them playfully climb and leap from tree to tree for hours.

  It’s a nice summer day outside as we meander from exhibit to exhibit. We gaze at the turtles and tortoises, admire the red pandas, and ogle an array of winged creatures.

  Cole insists we leave the snow monkey exhibit after one particularly playful male Macaques starts flirting with me. He keeps strutting past, waving his bright red backside in my general direction and then turning around to see if I’m watching.

  Just to test Cole’s theory, I tell him to walk in one direction and I go in the other. Sure enough, my new friend follows me, flashing his rump. Cole turns around, walks straight toward me, pulls me roughly into his arms, and kisses me.

  “Wow, what was that for?” I ask, slightly out of breath.

  “I just had a man-to-man conversation with your suitor to let him know you’ve been claimed.”

  I roll my eyes and allow Cole to lead me away to the next exhibit. The funny thing is that I think it worked because my furry friend is now completely ignoring me.

  There are a few more exhibits on our way to the grand finale. I carefully watch the clock as we make our way through. While Cole is focused on the grizzly bears, I sneak out my cell phone and send out a text confirming our plans.

  We make one stop at the sea lion exhibit before moving on to the penguins. It doesn’t take long for my friend Abbey to find us, just as planned. She comes bustling over and I’m beyond happy to see her. She’s easily identifiable in her khakis and polo shirt, not to mention the safari-style cargo vest she’s rocking. “I’m so glad you called,” she happily declares. “It’s been too long.”

  “Way too long,” I quickly agree.

  She turns to Cole and holds out her hand, introducing herself. “Hi. You must be Cole. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Really?” Cole looks at me quizzically. “I’m glad to hear that, but unfortunately, I haven’t the slightest idea who you are.”

  Abbey turns to me and gives me a playful shove. “You didn’t tell him?”

  “Nope.”

  “Thanks for the heads up,” she berates me. Returning her attention back to Cole, she explains what’s about to happen. “Your girlfriend and I went to college together. I’m one of the animal handlers here at the zoo. It’s almost time for the penguin feeding and I thought you might like to help.”

  “Are you shitting me?” Cole asks, completely serious.

  “No, I’m definitely not shitting you.”

  Cole’s eyes light up like he just found out he’s going to Disney. “Let’s do this!”

  Abbey leads us through a locked gate and into the ‘staff only’ part of the penguin exhibit, making sure to lock it safely behind us.

  Seeing the back of the exhibit is fascinating. From the visitors’ side, it appears to be a swimming pool surrounded by a rock wall that provides shade from the sun. But behind the wall, there are storage rooms and a walk-in refrigerator. Abbey instructs us to wait while she collects the first bucket full of their late afternoon meal – anchovies and sardines.

  She hands us both a pair of rubber gloves and a warning, “Watch where you walk. There’s penguin poop everywhere.” We walk through a large heavy door and find ourselves standing inside the penguin exhibit.

  “They know it’s feeding time,” Abbey warns. “They might nip at you a little, so don’t freak out. Ready?”

  “Hell yeah!” Cole answers.

  The three of us make our way to an open area where the penguins can congregate around us. There are at least twenty of them and they all come waddling towards us. Abbey reaches in, grabs a sardine, and holds it up to the closest penguin. “Here you go, Charlie.”

  Charlie reaches up, takes a few bites on the fish, and then takes it from Abbey. He tilts his head back and lets the treat slide down his throat without chewing.

  “How do you know that’s Charlie?” I ask. They all look so much alike. How could she possibly know one from the other?

  “See those beads clipped to his wing?” she asks.

  There are three beads and Abbey explains to us that one bead represents the father, the middle bead represents the mother, and the last bead is unique for each bird.

  She feeds two more birds, and then encourages Cole to give it a try. He reaches in the bucket and pulls out an anchovy. It’s smaller than the sardine and it means that his fingers have to be even closer to the penguins’ mouths in order for them to eat. But my man has no fear. The penguin gently takes the offered fish and gulps it down quickly.

  I watch the two of them feed almost all the penguins before I muster up the guts to try it myself. I want to. I really do. And I definitely don’t want to miss this opportunity. I just want to watch and study a little bit before I jump right in.

  Cautiously, I reach into the bucket and grab the tail of the biggest fish I can find. Holding it up high, one hungry penguin reaches up to grab it, but he can’t reach. Cole grabs a hold of my arm and gently lowers it until the penguin can wrap his beak around it. He takes a few experimental bites and with Cole’s guiding hand, I lower the fish just enough so that he can take it from me.

  Abbey throws a few fish into the pool and a whole group of them dive in. Now this part is fun. I have no problem grabbing sardines and anchovies and tossing them into the water.

  When the bucket is finally empty, Abbey reaches down and picks up a penguin. “Take your gloves off if you want to pet her.�
��

  “Her?” I ask.

  “This is Suzi,” she tells me. “She’s new. We just got her from Cincinnati. She’s still looking for a mate.”

  Holy shit. It’s another sign. Out of all the penguins here today, Abbey picks up the one that just happens to have the same name as the character in a book that I’m writing. I definitely need to finish this book. But first, I have a penguin to pet.

  Abbey is standing there holding a penguin like a baby cradled in her arms. I remove one glove and tentatively reach out. Her feathers are tightly packed and feel almost like suede. Not quite soft and yet not quite rough, either.

  We end our visit to the Central Park Zoo with promises to keep in touch with Abbey and a memory to cherish. How many people can say they’ve pet and fed a penguin? Now there are two more people to add to that short list.

  Cole hails us a taxi and as we climb in, I hear a familiar ringtone that hasn’t played in months. Beyonce’s hit, “Run the World” is echoing in the bottom of my purse. I make no attempt to answer it. I know exactly who it is.

  “Aren’t you going to get that?” Cole asks.

  “Nope,” I answer. “Don’t have to. I know who it is and I’m not ready to take that call.”

  “That sounds mysterious. Are you going to tell me or keep me in the dark?”

  “It was Gail Walters, my literary agent. Gina must have told her I’m in town. She probably gave her my manuscript by now.” I stare out the window at all the buildings as we whisk past. “I’m just not ready. Maybe in a day or two,” I try to explain.

  The taxi drops us off in front of the Time-Life Building’s parking garage entrance. But rather than walk right in, Cole leads me away towards the corner of the intersection.

  “Um, babe – where are we going?” I ask.

  “To see a lady about a book.”

  CHAPTER 23

  GINA FUSSES OVER ME AND COLE, offering us coffee, water, Perrier, and even a glass of wine while we wait. I look around at the familiar surroundings. There’s a new feature that’s been installed in the main lobby since my last visit – an indoor water wall. Three glass panels sit in a small channel on the floor that’s filled with rocks. The sound of constantly flowing water soothes and calms my nerves.

  I hate making impulsive decisions. It’s something I generally don’t do. As I sit and wait, I run through a checklist of all the reasons why I shouldn’t be here, and frankly – the list is quite long. If my brother knew I was here, he’d flip his lid. My stomach is in knots just thinking about it.

  God, I hope I’m not making a mistake.

  As we wait for Gail, a constant stream of familiar faces parade through. Agents, assistants, accountants, and legal advisors all make appearances.

  “Gina said you were here, but I had to see for myself.”

  “I knew you’d be back!”

  “We missed you so much.”

  “It’s great to see you. It’s been way too long!”

  I listen, smile, and take it all in. This is how they hook you – bring you in and make you feel like a rock star.

  Finally, the office door swings open and out walks Gail Walters with a huge grin on her face. “Well, I’ll be damned,” she barks as she walks into the lobby. She wraps her arms around me and sways from side to side. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

  “Thanks, Gail. It’s good to see you, too.”

  She opens the door to invite me in. This room is designed to impress. Two opposing walls are covered from floor to ceiling with bookshelves filled with copies of their writers’ hard work. Science fiction, crime, horror, fantasy and romance all have proud places on the shelves.

  And spanning the space between them is an expanse of windows looking across the city. I can see the grand spires of St. Patrick’s Cathedral just around the corner. It’s breathtaking.

  Situated in the center of the room is a large conference table carved from exotic wood and varnished to a perfect shine. No less than twelve people can sit at this table comfortably. But for today, it looks like this is a more of a private meeting.

  I turn around and beckon for Cole to join us. “Come on in, babe.”

  Gail stares at Cole as he walks past her. I can see her wheels spinning as she eyeballs him inquisitively. Cole and I sit together on one side of the table and Gail takes a seat directly across from me. But her eyes haven’t left Cole.

  “I’m sorry, but you look so familiar. I never forget a face. Have we met before?”

  “Yes, briefly,” Cole answers. “At the hotel bar in . . .”

  “Hawaii!” Gail practically shouts. “Holy fucking shit. You’re the box boy,” she proclaims and she slaps her hands victoriously on the table. She looks at me, then at Cole, and back again at me. “I’m right, dammit. Tell me I’m right.”

  “Can I call you Gail?” Cole asks with a hint of humor in his grin.

  “Honey, you can call me anything you like,” she practically salivates.

  “Great. Gail, why don’t you refresh my memory and tell me what a box boy is so I can decide how to react. Because frankly, you’re confusing the shit out of me right now.”

  Gail grins and looks at me. “Oh, Kenny – I like him.” She then returns her attention back to Cole. “Your girlfriend here had some stupid idea about selecting men based on a checklist she kept in a box. I ran into you at the bar and then sent you to her table along with a note that said . . .”

  “Fuck the box,” Cole finishes for her. He turns to me and grins as all the memories of that night come flooding back. “I should send you flowers,” he tells Gail. The way he smiles as he remembers that night so long ago sends shivers to all my girly parts.

  “Oh no, dear. You brought my Kenny back to me. One of these days, you’re going to have to tell me how you did it.” Leaning across the table and staring me down, she clarifies, “But for now, let’s talk about this manuscript.” She pulls out a notepad with pages of notes scribbled all over it. “I have a few thoughts.”

  “I’m sure you do,” I tell her, “but I haven’t decided whether or not this book is just for me or if I’ll ever release it for publication.”

  “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.” She tears off her note sheet and hands it to me. “Take my notes home and look them over. Use them. Don’t use them. It’s completely up to you. But in the meantime, let me make a few inquiries on your behalf. I’ve already spoken to Donna in accounting. I think we can make you a very healthy offer. One that should let you hire someone to run that little bookstore of yours while you focus on your writing.”

  “It’s not about the money,” I tell her.

  “Don’t kid yourself,” she argues. “It’s always about the money. How did you pay for that beautiful beach house of yours? And that fully loaded BMW you bought after the first book? And how did you get that business of yours off the ground? I’m sure it wasn’t with a sweet smile and pinkie swears, was it?”

  “No,” I reluctantly admit.

  “The royalties from Before I Forget and After the Storm are going to run out soon. Are you prepared to take a major cut in your income?”

  I know she’s right. It’s true that TitleWave is making good money now, but will it really be enough to last through the off-season all winter long?

  I open my mouth to admit as much, but Cole interrupts me before I even utter a sound. “I don’t mean to interfere, but major life decisions like this should never be based upon money.” He places his hand on my knee and squeezes. “There are so many things that are a lot more important.”

  Gail’s not done. The money thing may not have worked as she hoped, but she’s got more ammunition in her arsenal. “Let me remind you that you haven’t published anything new in almost eighteen months. Readers get bored and start looking for their next book boyfriend. I’m afraid some have already found one.”

  She gets up, walks over to the bookshelf, selects a book off the shelf, and slides it across the table towards me.

  I don’t need to l
ook too carefully. I recognize the cover design and author. The book is entitled “Devotion” and the author is Lauryn Braun. I carry her first book, “Infatuation”, in my little shop, and it practically flies off the shelf. It’s only been out for a few months, and now I’m being shown the sequel, bound and ready for distribution.

  Gail sits back in her chair and waits for my reply.

  “I’m sorry, Gail, but I’m at a point in my life right now where money and fame are not big motivators for me. My privacy and safety are much more important things to focus on if you want me to even consider doing this again.”

  The smirk disappears and her shoulders sag just a little. She had a front row seat to the horrors of that terrible day.

  Assurances are made that if I make the changes she recommends and if we can come to terms that are mutually agreed upon, then we can keep the same arrangement we’ve been enjoying for the past seven months. I don’t do any book signings or public appearances and they continue to handle my fan mail and social media.

  Basically, nothing changes and I get to start writing again. My skin tingles. I can hardly sit still. I start fidgeting, crossing one leg and then the other. I want to run around this table, grab Gail, lift her to her feet and kiss her right on the mouth. The image of it in my mind makes me giggle.

  Somehow, I manage to hold it together and act blasé. I gather Gail’s notes and tuck them away safely in my bag. “Thanks, Gail. I’ll be in touch once I’ve made a decision.”

  As our meeting has clearly come to an end, Gail sees us out. Before opening the door, she turns to us with one final thought. “Let me just say that I am so glad to see that you two have found one another. But I can’t let you leave before I ask you one final question.”

  “Go ahead, ask away,” I answer.

  “Oh no – my question’s for Cole.” She places her hand on his bicep. Looking up into his big blue eyes, she asks, “Please tell me you have an unmarried slightly older brother.”

  “Sorry to disappoint,” he grins.

  I leave Breakaway Publishing on cloud nine. A world of possibilities has just been opened up to me that I previously thought were lost to me forever.