The Write Stuff (A Write Stuff Novel Book 1)

  "Who cares? Super Series, World Bowl, that's not the point. While they were busy pontificating about the future of a team neither of them play for, I was checking out Alec. He's definitely comfortable in his own skin. It didn't take much convincing to get him to agree. I think he liked the idea of earning some extra cash."

  I tried to keep my cheeks from turning red, but the more Olivia talked about him, the more I seemed to blush. "He definitely has cover model looks," I squeaked out.

  "Wow, you are seriously smitten," Olivia mused as the waitress returned with our food.

  "Now you go with smitten? Olivia, I'm not kidding. You need to open up some contemporary romances. If you start referring to women as dames and men as gents, I'm going to stage an intervention."

  "What can I say? Your books got me hooked on the historical stuff. You should be pleased."

  The waitress paused as she handed over my plate. "Are you a writer?" she asked with excitement. "What kind of books do you write?"

  I ducked my head, nearly choking on the chip I had just shoved in my mouth. Talking about my books with strangers was still a new experience for me. I nodded my head, since I was still coughing.

  "Don't mind her," Olivia answered. "She spends half her time holed up in her apartment like a hermit while she writes. Thank goodness her books are better than her social skills." She smoothly whipped out one of the bookmarks she had designed for me from her purse. "Here you go," she added, handing the bookmark over.

  "Wow. This is so exciting. I'm an avid reader, much to the displeasure of my husband. He hates it when I start reading a new book. He says I completely block him out."

  Finally done coughing, I was able to agree with her. "I'm the same way. I don't get to read as much as I like now since I spend all my time writing, but there's nothing like losing yourself in the pages of an amazing book."

  "Yes," she answered enthusiastically, nodding for emphasis. "I can't wait to get off work and tell my husband I served an actual author. And I will definitely pick up your book."

  Explaining where to go online to find my books was always awkward for me. As an indie author, none of my titles could be found in the traditional bookstores. Olivia was much better at explaining the logistics, so I let her take over the conversation. After a few moments, the waitress had the complete lowdown with all the links to find my books. Before walking away, she asked me to sign the bookmark and took out her phone for a picture. I grudgingly agreed. Not because I wasn't appreciative. I just had no idea why someone would want a picture with me. Olivia stood from the table to do the honors. "Squeeze a little closer," she said, giving me a wink. "Okay, on three say sexy." She snapped the picture and handed over the phone to our waitress who thanked us again.

  "So what else are you working on this week," I asked Olivia after swallowing a bite of my "bland quesadilla" as she referred to it. Her tastes were spicier than mine. I preferred my mouth not feel like it was set on fire.

  "I have a couple covers to finish and another shoot for Michelle. She wants a paranormal vibe, so I'm going to do the shoot on Thursday night. It's supposed to be a full moon as long as the clouds behave. Do you want to go out with me and Taylor tomorrow night?"

  "I'm not sure. I need to finish Wicked Lovely and get it to Hollie for edits by the twelfth."

  "I thought you were almost done."

  "I am, but I sorta got interrupted today."

  She merely raised her eyebrow at me. "I'm not letting you lay that on me. We both know you prefer to write at night anyway."

  "You don't know me that well. Maybe I decided during summer break, since I don't have to worry about classes, I might try writing during the day and actually sleep at night."

  "Right. I'll believe it when I see it. You're a habitual night owl."

  I sighed. "True." I had always been more of a creature of the night. Even when I was younger I would stay up past my bedtime reading under my blankets with the small flashlight my oldest brother, Tony, had given me.

  "I still think you should go out with us. You've been holed up in your apartment every weekend for so long I'm surprised someone hasn't come in and swapped your college ID for an AARP card. You need to get out occasionally. Let your hair down. Go wild."

  "Seriously?" I snorted. "In all the years we've known each other when have I ever gone wild?" I shook my head as I wiped sour cream from the corner of my mouth.

  "Well, you're still young. There's never been a better time to start. Come with us, Nicole. You'll have fun, and it'll be good for you to get out."

  I pondered her words heavily as we continued our meal. I couldn't deny her point. These were the years in my life when I should be living it up a little. Besides, I enjoyed hanging out with Olivia. We had been close since middle school when she kicked Kara Miller's ass for picking on me. From that day forward, we became best friends. We had a yin-and-yang type of relationship. I was shy and reserved; she was confident and in your face.

  Olivia had the type of features any girl would kill for. She was tall and had a beautiful face with long shiny black hair and drop-dead gorgeous eyes. Then there was awkward me with my pale skin, lanky hair and murky, mud-colored eyes. Olivia had always told me I was full of shit; that I was more attractive than I thought and she would kick my ass for thinking otherwise. That was why I loved her so much. She had always been a loyal friend above all else.

  "Hello, Nicole. You're zoning out again." Olivia snapped her fingers in my face, getting my attention. Everyone who knew me had gotten used to my occasional zoning out. Most times it was because I was thinking about my current work in progress. My brothers would tease me, claiming they could actually see smoke coming out of my ears.

  "Sorry," I said, dunking the quesadilla in guacamole.

  "So, tomorrow? You in?"

  I nodded. "I guess. I can always write when I get home."

  Olivia smiled with satisfaction. For the rest of the meal we discussed my new cover. I managed to dodge the Alec issue by refusing to acknowledge any more of Olivia's comments on the matter. Eventually we came up with a game plan on how to handle the reshoot. Ironically, after everything that happened on the beach this morning, she admitted it was all for the best because the pose she had envisioned for the models had been overdone and she already had another idea—if she could get the lighting perfect, of course. That was her standard worry for every shoot. At least she was back on track, which was all I cared about.

  We left the practically frigid temperature of the restaurant for the sweltering heat outside. I was surprised I didn't get sick more often. "Well, what's the verdict? Si or no on the taquitos?"

  "Not bad. It wasn't SoCal good, obviously, but maybe we'll keep it in the rotation. Me and Taylor will swing by your place at eight tomorrow to pick you up."

  "Okay, but no sushi this time." The last time Olivia had tried to expand my palate I ended up gagging and nearly vomiting on the waiter's shoes. It wasn't something the staff at the restaurant took too kindly, but lesson learned.

  Olivia chuckled. "Fine, but who knew you would be such a baby?"

  I stuck my tongue out at her as I climbed into my jeep.

  Chapter Four

  By two o'clock the following afternoon I was regretting my snap decision to go out with Olivia and Taylor. My groove had returned and I stayed up all night writing. I'd likely suffer the consequences later, but for now I had a euphoric feeling as all the pieces of my story began to click together. I knew if I didn't want to be a complete zombie when I went out later, I needed to get a couple hours of sleep in. Tearing myself away from my manuscript was tough, but at three o'clock I forced myself to shut it down.

  Placing my laptop on the empty side of my bed, I laid back against my pillows, hoping my eyes would become heavy quickly. The problem was, after a long writing session I couldn't turn off my brain immediately, so I usually just laid there full of adrenaline. I figured if I was in bed I was technically resting. That was the reasoning I had used on my parents when I was yo
unger. Thanks to the blackout curtains I had bought, my room was plunged into darkness after I shut off my lamp. I set the alarm on my cell phone for six thirty, resisting the urge to peek at Facebook or check my emails.

  Severus had been waiting patiently at the foot of my bed and now walked up my legs, taking his customary spot on my stomach. He wasn't exactly fat by cat standards, but he was solid. I grunted under his weight as he made bread dough on the blanket until he was satisfied he would be comfortable. I closed my eyes while petting Severus on the head. I must have been more tired than I realized because I felt myself drifting away to the steady rumble of his purring.

  Sometime later, I was startled awake by the sound of pounding on my front door. Severus meowed his displeasure when I abruptly sat up, dislodging him from my stomach. I felt disoriented. My room remained dark regardless of what time of the day it was because of my curtains. Groping around my desk, I managed to find my phone and tapped the button to light up the screen. Another series of pounding on the door echoed throughout the apartment. I groaned when I saw that it was eight o'clock.

  Scrambling from my bed, I rubbed a hand across my eyes and flipped on the lights as I made my way to my front door with Severus trailing behind me.

  "I knew it. You fell asleep," Olivia proclaimed when I pulled open the door.

  Rather than try to deny the obvious, I turned and walked away so she could enter. "Why didn't you use the key I gave you?"

  "I left it in the car with Taylor. His mom called him as we pulled in."

  I bit the inside of my cheek at the way Olivia said mom, like it was a dirty word. Her own parents had been absentee at best. She had warmed up to mine over the years, but still maintained a standoffish attitude where parents were concerned.

  "Why aren't you dressed? Is this a ploy to get out of going? Because I might as well tell you, it's not going to work. So get your skinny ass in there and get dressed."

  "Don't be bossy. I was up late writing and my alarm failed to wake me up," I said, holding up the culprit to take the blame for me.

  Olivia took the phone from my hand and trailed behind me as I headed to my bedroom to change. She perched on my unmade bed while I searched my closet for something presentable to wear. I wasn't a fashion expert, but even I had to admit my closet was sparse. My dresser overflowed with yoga pants and T-shirts, but my closet looked mostly ignored. It was comprised of a few things I'd picked up over the past few years along with a few remnants of my high school wardrobe. Looking at it now, it was really pitiful.

  "Your closet is fucking anorexic," Olivia complained as she peered over my shoulder. She reached around me, pushing hangers aside to search for the perfect outfit that wasn't there. "You need a complete wardrobe makeover. And a yoga pants intervention," she added, glaring at my hot pink pair.

  I shrugged. Eventually I would supplement my wardrobe, but it wasn't high on my priorities list. Grabbing a black lightweight chiffon top and black cami from the closet, I headed to my dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans I'd had since high school. Judging by the look on Olivia's face, she didn't approve, but I didn't care. Jeans never went out of style, and they still fit.

  Sticking out my tongue at her, I slipped into my bathroom to shower quickly and get dressed.

  Fifteen minutes later I left the bathroom with a puff of steam wafting behind me. I pulled my hair up in a loose knot since I didn't have enough time to dry and straighten it. Makeup was another thing I didn't put much effort into, but I applied just enough to add some color to my cheeks. Growing up, my mom had tried her best to teach me to be a typical girl, but being surrounded by boys constantly, I learned to appreciate roughhousing and burping contests over makeup and clothes.

  When I joined Olivia and Taylor in the living room, I figured my appearance must have passed Olivia's seal of approval because she made no comments to the contrary. Taylor sat on the couch petting a quite content Severus. Olivia was at the counter messing with my phone. "Your alarm works better if you set it to go off at six thirty p.m., not six thirty a.m., Einstein."

  "Oops, good point," I said, catching the phone after she tossed it to me.

  Taylor grinned. "It's the thought that counts, right?" He stood up after giving Severus one last stroke.

  I returned his smile. Taylor was cool that way. He was no slouch in the looks department either. He and Olivia were actually a good match. Clearly he thought she was beautiful because he said so many times, but he also didn't treat her like a trophy. Over the years, I'd seen a steady stream of guys come and go with Olivia. Most of them thrived on the idea of dating someone as pretty as she was, but they were still douche faces who treated her like crap. Thankfully, she was quick to let them go. Taylor had proved to be different. He treated her as an equal rather than a possession. I could tell his intentions were to get more serious, but Olivia had major commitment issues. It would be interesting to see how it all played out. Olivia was a tough nut to crack, but something told me not to count Taylor out.

  We got into our typical lively conversation about nothing in particular during the drive. Taylor was a couple years older than Olivia and me. He worked for a pharmaceutical company in Orlando and made good money. His job required him to travel quite often, but he always had plenty of stories to share with us. I was tempted to put my historical romance stories aside and write a book about flight attendants after listening to some of his anecdotes. The book would practically write itself.

  We ended up eating at a small pizza joint downtown before heading to what I realized had been Olivia's intended destination all along. I shouldn't have been surprised. Truthfully, I should have been suspicious when she let the subject drop the day before. She was never one to give up so easily. As soon as Taylor pulled into Church Street Station I knew where we were and who worked inside.

  My normally brave friend avoided making eye contact with me as we climbed out of the car. Instead, she took her boyfriend by the arm and walked toward the new nightclub. If Taylor was in on Olivia's plan he hid it well because he looked oblivious to our silent standoff.

  We could hear and feel the throbbing of the music from the parking lot. Having been friends with Olivia for so long, I wasn't a complete novice to clubs. They just weren't my thing. Still, every so often, I would let her drag me along. I usually had fun for the most part, but that was because I never had any expectations. Even in a club filled wall to wall with people it was easy to remain inconspicuous. This time was different. I knew exactly why she had chosen the Red Moon. I wasn't an idiot. Olivia was trying to play Cupid, and the Red Moon was where Alec tended bar. Part of me relished the chance to make up for my odd behavior the other morning at the beach. At least I could prove to Alec I knew how to act normal. Unfortunately, the more dominant half of me wanted to run back to my apartment and hide where I felt safe.

  Olivia must have sensed my reluctance since she reached back and grabbed me by the wrist. I told myself I still had time to pull away, but each step brought us closer to the club. Looking around, I spotted a small coffee bar across the street where I could hide out for a couple of hours, but Olivia kept a firm grasp on my wrist. Before I knew it, we had reached the door.

  "Here you go," Olivia said, handing over two IDs to a tall, well muscled bouncer. I snatched my hand away and reluctantly reached inside my small purse. Pawing through the contents, I didn't know whether to panic or feel relieved when my driver's license wasn't in its customary spot.

  "Looking for this?" Olivia held out my license and grabbed me by the hand to tug me inside the club.

  "So now you're a thief?"

  "I borrowed it while you were getting dressed. Just wanted to make sure you didn't have an excuse to bolt." My friend knew me too well.

  When we got inside, I stopped before reaching the long bar where people stood shoulder to shoulder waiting to place drink orders. There were three bartenders behind the counter working the crowd, but only one of them held any significance to me. I intended to play it cool, but my pa
lms began to sweat the moment my eyes found Alec's. Damn, he was as handsome as I remembered. He grinned, nodding his head in my direction. He recognized me. Fantastic. Nothing like making a lasting impression.

  Olivia pulled me the rest of the way to the counter where a space had miraculously opened up. It was at the opposite end of the bar from where Alec was working, but was just large enough for Olivia and me to perch on two stools with Taylor standing between us.

  Alec smiled again, watching me as he prepared a drink order. Maybe someone like Olivia would have no problem maintaining eye contact with a hot guy across the room, but I looked away, pretending to fumble with my purse. I stood up to readjust my stool, keeping my head down. After getting myself situated, I found the nerve to glance back at Alec. He smiled as if he had been waiting for me to look at him. Shooting me a wink, he turned his attention back to the customers in front of him.

  That was my weakness, especially from someone with such striking eyes. Call me a slut, but it wouldn't take much more than that to get me to drop my panties for him. Winking for me was like liquor to an alcoholic, and he was getting me drunk. I suddenly realized I had bigger problems than making eye contact. At some point he was going to walk over to us and I would have to say something. Preferably something witty or smart. The harder I tried to come up with something clever, the more my mind went blank. Shit, of all the times to experience writer's block. My heart felt like it would beat out of my chest. I had nothing. All I could think about was how I wished I wouldn't have worn my hair up. I could have used it to hide my embarrassing rosy red cheeks. I fidgeted uncomfortably on my stool, praying to any god that would listen to give me the sanity to make it through this.