door with her foot and continued toward the kitchen. After unloading her bags, she laid a small chicken in the refrigerator to cook after book club today. She’d also purchased vegetables to stir-fry with rice for the Martins. It was an easy favorite. “There.” With a glance backward at the blow-up doll again, she laughed, heading to the bathroom for a quick shower. Even though she hadn’t liked the idea of reading one of her Sophie Evans books to the ladies in book club at first, she’d warmed up to the idea. She rarely did book signings or readings, so it’d be great to see people’s real-life reactions to what she’d written.
After the shower, she coated her skin in lavender-scented lotion, pulled on a pair of soft denim jeans and a flowery cotton top with lace accentuating the scoop neckline. She pulled her dark hair into a low-hanging ponytail and swiped some pink lip gloss over her lips. Then she grabbed her bag with the Sophie Evans book inside and climbed back into her car. Her phone buzzed as she drove to the nursing home.
After checking the ID, Val pulled the phone to her ear and answered with a smile. “You’re so bad,” she told Nikki, laughing softly.
“So you got my present?” Nikki asked. “Did he help?”
“It depends on what you mean by help. My father was conveniently there when I opened the box.”
“Oops.” Nikki’s laugh was one of those low, raspy laughs. Val had never actually met her in person, but she imagined Nikki to look a lot like Jessica Rabbit with curves that made men fall at her feet. She read romance novels for a living, and had the mouth of a sailor and the voice of a sex kitten.
“And then Griffin saw it, too,” Val added, turning onto the road that led to Seaside Harbor.
“Griffin?” Nikki asked. “Who’s he? You’ve never mentioned his name before.”
“Just a guy.”
“Uh-huh. Inspiration-worthy guy?” Nikki asked.
Griffin’s toned arms and bare chest as he stood in her living room last night crossed Val’s mind. Yeah, he was inspiring all right. “Umm.”
“And he was in your house if he saw your doll,” Nikki pointed out.
No way was Val adding that he’d stayed the night, too. “He just came by to check on the dog that I’m caring for right now.”
“You’re a saint. How do you write such sinfully good romances?”
“Good question.” Because Val hadn’t experienced a sinfully good romance of her own in a long, long time. “Thanks for the present, though. Mr. Perfect will keep me company during my long nights of writing over the next few weeks.”
“Or maybe Griffin can keep you company during those long nights,” Nikki teased. “Listen, I have to go. Seriously, get writing. I don’t want to go begging for another deadline extension. Three times in six months doesn’t look good.”
“Agreed.” Even if Val had to produce a shitty first draft, she would write something just as soon as she got home from babysitting at the Martins’.
Ten minutes later, Val sat down with the eight ladies from book club and smiled, breathing easily for the first time that day.
“Did you bring chocolate?” Alma asked.
Val remembered Griffin’s reaction to his mother eating junk food the last time. He didn’t like it and claimed that his mother didn’t, either. “I brought healthy snacks this time,” Val said, pulling cheese sticks from her bag.
“I’m lactose intolerant,” one of the ladies told her.
Val had considered that when she was at the grocery store this morning. She also pulled out little boxes of raisins to pass around.
“Those stick to my dentures,” another woman said.
“Well, you can’t please everyone.” Val shrugged. Then she pulled the Sophie Evans novel into her lap. She loved the cover of this book. She also loved how her pen name was in large block letters. It was something she’d always dreamt about. Except no one recognized her real name, Valerie Hunt. That was okay. She’d decided a long time ago