The Inn at Laurel Creek: Zoe & Daniel's Story Read online

I raised an eyebrow and headed to the dining room.

  Lou followed behind us with the package. Daniel snatched it from her and excused himself to put it away without even opening it.

  I caught a view of the senders mailing label and recognized it immediately. I swallowed hard.

  “Must be awfully important, making him skedaddle like that to put it away,” Lou said.

  “Or he’s trying to hide something.”

  “Oh come now, what would that boy be trying to hide? He’s as pure as the day is long.”

  The bowling ball settling in the pit of my stomach said otherwise. “You know, I’m not all that hungry after all. I think I’ll just head upstairs and call it a night.” I stood and placed my hand on Lou’s arm. “I’m sorry to inconvenience you like this. I know you spent time making that dinner.”

  “Sweetie, you’re not an inconvenience, but you might could stay and have some of the cranberry and spinach salad. It’s an Inn specialty. Plus, you need to fuel that brain of yours to finish your book. Now sit. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  I didn’t argue. I decided I’d interrogate Daniel, the indie published author, as best I could and find out why he had a package roughly the size of a typed manuscript delivered from my publisher.

  Daniel clomped back down the stairs and darted to the dining room, his cowboy boots mimicking mini-explosives as they hit the wood floor. “Sorry ‘bout that. I didn’t want to have that lying around.”

  “Em hmm.”

  He fidgeted in his seat.

  “Something wrong?”

  “Nope. Just tired, I guess.” I yawned to justify my lie.

  He nodded. “Must be all that fresh country air.”

  I wiped the moisture from my water glass. “Yes, must be.” I couldn’t look at him; the angst filled bowling ball settled into my gut, looming like an appointment for a root canal.

  Root canal?

  I really needed to stop writing my personal story in my head and definitely had to work on better similes, personally and professionally.

  Stan filled Daniel’s wine glass, but I placed my hand over mine. “Thanks, Stan, but I’m good. I’m going straight to my room after my salad to work on my novel. Missed deadlines aren’t good for my mainstream publisher, you know?” I checked Daniel’s expression, and swore he grimaced ever so slightly.

  “How’s that book coming along?” Stan asked. He checked behind him and then bent down and whispered, “’Tween us, I think my wife’s hoping you’ll give her one a those special copies, you know, the ones that come out before the book does. But you don’t breathe a word of this to her. She’d beat me with a spoon if she knew I said that.”

  “I’m definitely planning to give her a review copy, and I’ve already got my publisher sending her a box of swag from my previous books.”

  “Well, I don’t know about this swag stuff, but I bet she’ll love it. She’s been on the phone every day telling family how we’ve got a famous author staying with us. She’s wound up tighter than a slip knot ‘bout it.”

  “That’s sweet. Lou really is a lovely woman.”

  “Don’t I know it? I’m a lucky man, that’s for sure. Don’t know what I’d a done without her all these years.”

  I hoped to have a love like that some day.

  Daniel uncrossed and crossed his legs. “You’re not feeling well?”

  I cleared my throat. “I’m fine. Just have a lot to get done. I came here for a reason, and I’ve got to stick to my guns or I won’t get this book finished.” I leaned back in my seat. “So, what’s with the package?”

  I watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he gulped down half the glass of wine. “Just the—hopefully—last copy of my manuscript from my publisher.”

  I plastered a fake smile onto my face and watched as Daniel fidgeted in his chair, barely able to make eye contact with me. “Wow, you’ve got an attentive publisher. I didn’t realize small presses did things like that. Mine rarely sends anything unless it’s digitally.”

  His shoulders stiffened. “You know how it is. The back and forth with an editor and all that staring at a computer…with the release coming soon, I needed to see it in print and wouldn’t give my final approval if I didn’t, so they sent it. Probably will take the cost out of my royalties.”

  “Ah, makes sense.” What didn’t make sense was the fact that the manuscript came from my publisher.

  Lou brought out our food, and I moved my fork around on my plate. The lettuce leaves practically wilting from the room temperature and the dressing. I couldn’t bring myself to eat, my stomach wound in tight knots knowing Daniel lied.

  Daniel glanced at my plate and pointed to it. “You haven’t even taken a bit. You sure you’re okay?”

  I shoved back from the table and stood. “I really need to get my manuscript finished.” I drove my fingertips into my temples. “Feeling pretty stressed about it, I guess.”

  He bounded out of his chair and placed his hand on my waist. “Let me walk you to your suite.”

  I pushed his hand aside. “No, I’m okay, really. I just…I just need to get it done so I don’t have it looming over me every minute of the day.”

  “I understand. If I can do anything to help…”

  I offered him a semi-smile. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

  “Then I’ll see you tomorrow? For breakfast?”

  “Possibly. I may have to lock myself up and throw away the key to get the book finished.”

  “Okay then, I guess I’ll see you when I see you?”

  I nodded. “Good night, Daniel.”

  “’Night, Zoe.”

  * * *

  I went into the zone, that place writers go when they’ve got their groove on…when they hit a stride and can’t stop, or won’t stop, until the stride tells them to. It surprised me, too. I thought for sure I’d think about Daniel lying to me, but I forced all thoughts of him and that package to the back of my brain and focused on Charisma and Nate.

  Nate wouldn’t lie to Charisma. Nate wouldn’t try to cover up something like a package from a big publishing house. Of course, Nate could be whatever I wanted, since I’d created him. Daniel on the other hand, didn’t come from the pages of a book or a laptop. He lived and breathed and couldn’t possibly be perfect, no matter how much I wanted him to be.

  I guess I didn’t exactly force Daniel to the back of my brain after all, but it didn’t matter. I added another layer to my story and stayed up well into the morning hours perfecting it.

  I snuck out of my room just before noon and tiptoed down the stairs to the kitchen. Lou stood in front of the sink, hand-washing cookie sheets and mixing bowls.

  “Well, look who’s decided to join the world?” She wiped her hands on the dishtowel and picked up a plate of cookies on the island. “Would you like one? They’re oatmeal and honey. My meemaw’s special recipe.” She nudged the plate toward me. “Go on, I suspect you need the sugar boost.”

  I snatched a cookie and thanked her. The soft, chewy taste of honey and oatmeal still warm it melted in my mouth. I moaned. “Oh wow, that’s so good.” I took another bite and talked with my mouth full, my good manners losing out to the pure ecstasy of cookie heaven. “Your grandmother knew how to make a cookie.”

  “She churned her own butter, and that’s really the secret to the recipe. I don’t churn, but mine don’t taste too bad. Nothing compared to my meemaw though.”

  “I lifted another one from the plate. “I bet your grandmother would be proud though. They’re fantastic.”

  “What’s fantastic?” Daniel asked. He’d snuck into the kitchen like a ninja.

  My stomach did a somersault, but not because it was happy.

  Lou handed him a cookie and then repeated what she’d said to me.

  “This is incredible,” Daniel said. A cookie crumb settled on his bottom lip.

  I nearly brushed it off, but I stopped myself. The act seemed so personal…so intimate, and I didn’t feel touching him was appr
opriate given my lack of trust. It didn’t matter anyway because Lou swiped it off with the flick of a finger.

  “Make any progress on the novel?” he asked.

  I nodded, worried if I spoke directly to him, I’d ask about the package. Instead, I focused my conversation toward Lou. “Speaking of, I should get back to it. Lou, thanks for the cookie.”

  “Would you like me to make you a sandwich? You can’t work so hard without any nourishment now, can you?” She patted the chair next to the island. “Here, pop a squat. It’ll just take me a second to whip something up.”

  “Oh, it’s okay. I really should get back to work. I’m so close to finishing, I don’t think I’ll need much more time, and then I can get out of your way for more exciting guests.”

  Lou’s smile warped downward, and her eyes followed. “You mean you’ll be leaving soon? Heavens, that makes me sad. I’ve enjoyed having you here.”

  A rubbed my hands together. “Life keeps going once the book is done, and there’s a lot to do to get it published, so I have to keep moving.”

  “Well then, how about I make you a sandwich and bring it up to you?”

  I nodded. “That would be wonderful, Lou. Thank you.” I didn’t even acknowledge Daniel as I left the kitchen.

  * * *

  I’d just settled into writer’s mode on the bed in my suite when someone tapped on the door.

  “Room service,” Daniel said.

  I should have known that would happen. I didn’t want to face him. I wanted to forget him. “Just leave it, and I’ll grab it in a second. Thanks.”

  He tapped again. “Zoe, you can’t avoid me forever.”

  My cell phone rang. I’d checked messages last night and texted with my editor and must have not put it back on do not disturb. “Sorry, phone’s ringing. It’s my agent. I’ve got to take this.”

  “We need to talk, Zoe.”

  “Hey, hold for a second, okay?” I said to Leslie, my agent. I hesitated, but walked to the door and opened it. Daniel grinned, and I took the tray of food from him. “I can’t right now. Phone call and book to write.” I conjured up a smile. “Thanks for bringing this up.” I closed the door to Daniel with his mouth hanging open.

  “Hey Leslie, what’s up? You scouting other publishers for me?”

  “Don’t be silly. Just checking in. Wanted to see how the trip and book are coming along.”

  “So far, so good. I’m almost finished, actually. Maybe another two days at the most, and I can get it to the editor and get back to my life in Atlanta. This nature stuff is wearing on me.”

  “Are you having fun at least?”

  “I guess. I mean, it’s been interesting, that’s for sure. Hey, can you do me a favor?”

  “You name it.”

  “There’s this author I’d like you to check out. He’s staying here too, and he told me he’s with a small press, but he got a package from my publisher, and it doesn’t make sense.” I filled her in on Daniel’s info.

  “Not familiar with him, so he can’t be all that popular,” Leslie said. I heard her typing on a keyboard. “Well, he’s for real at least. I’m on his website now.”

  “I’ve seen it, too. It’s just strange. He lied about the package, and I saw the label.”

  “What does it matter?”

  I shook my head, more for myself than my agent. “It doesn’t, I guess. I just…we…I don’t know. Can you just look into it for me, please?”

  “If it’ll help you finish that book, of course I will.”

  “Great, thank you. I appreciate it.”

  “I’ll check back with you in a bit.”

  We hung up, and I took a big bite out of the sandwich, realizing then my stomach needed the sustenance.

  Two hours later Daniel knocked on my door again. “Zoe, please. I don’t know what I did, but I’d like to talk to you about it.”

  I cracked open the door, and let him in.

  “You know, don’t you?”

  I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands tucked under my legs. “I—”

  “You saw, didn’t you? That’s why you’re giving me the cold shoulder.”

  “Saw what?”

  “I spoke to Leslie.”

  Heaviness weighted down my lungs, and I struggled to take in enough hair. “Leslie?”

  “She told me you saw the label on the package, from our publisher.” He moved toward the bed.

  “Our—what?” I flew from my comfy spot and flipped around to face Daniel, who’d just sat next to my empty space. “You’re not with my publisher. You’re with…with that indie press.” The name escaped me, but it didn’t matter. I stuttered. “What’s, I’m…I’m, what’s going on?” I leaned against the suite door and crossed my arms over my chest.

  Daniel ran a hand through is hair. “Leslie is my agent, too.”

  He never said he didn’t have an agent, but he never said he shared mine either. I considered that a lie by omission. People I cared about and that I thought cared about me had already lied me to. I couldn’t deal with it happening again so soon. “You have an agent? My agent?” I dropped into the chair near the fireplace. “So, the package was from my publisher, and Leslie told you I saw the label. She called you. I asked her to find out about you, and she called you? Why?” My brain wouldn’t function. My thoughts were scrambled, and my mind couldn’t focus. “What’s going on? Why did you two lie to me?”

  “We didn’t—I didn’t—”

  Lou knocked on Daniel’s door across the hall. “Daniel, your car is here.”

  Our eyes met. “You’re leaving now?” I asked.

  “I have to. I’ve got somewhere to be, but I’ll be back in the morning.” He hung his head and then stood and walked toward me.

  I pushed myself up from the chair. “You should go. I…I—just go.”

  I opened the door and Lou almost fell over. She’d just positioned herself to knock. “Well, there you are. Your car is here to take you to the airport. I’m sure going to miss you, but you gotta get movin’. I hear those specialty cars are expensive.”

  “They’re not too bad, actually,” Daniel said. “In fact, would you mind letting him know I’ll be down in a few minutes? I’d appreciate it.”

  “Of course I will,” she said, and off she went.

  Daniel closed the door behind her. “Zoe, please. I can explain.”

  I grabbed my cell phone and hit the last call to call back my agent.

  Daniel stood too close for comfort, so I backed away and paced the room.

  Leslie picked up on the first ring. I switched the phone to the speaker setting. “Hey Zoe, you calling to tell me you’ve finally finished?”

  “I’m calling to find out what the hell is going on.”

  Leslie paused before finally asking what I’d meant.

  “Les, I told her you called me,” Daniel said.

  “I don’t know what you two are doing, but whatever it is, I’m out,” I said. “You understand? Leslie, you know how I feel about honesty, and whatever’s going on here, it doesn’t feel all that honest to me.”

  “It’s not what you think,” she said. “If you’d let me explain—”

  “You know what?” I tossed the phone to Daniel. “I don’t need an explanation after all.” I grabbed my purse and laptop and practically yanked its cord from the wall. “You two talk amongst yourselves. I’ve got a book to finish.” I wrapped the cord into a loop around my arm. “Whatever scam you two are pulling, it’s over. Daniel, that thing we started? It’s over. Leslie, you’re fired.” I grabbed my phone and stormed out as Daniel stood, his mouth wide open.

  “Zoe, wait,” he said.

  “Where you heading in such a hurry?” Lou asked.

  I stopped for a second. “I can’t stay anymore Lou. I’m so sorry. Just charge my credit card for whatever I owe, and whatever fees you have for early check out. It’s been lovely, and I’ll make sure to get you an advanced copy of my book, but I can’t stay here any longer. I’m sorry.” I
charged down the stairs and out to my car, leaving the rest of my stuff abandoned in my room. I’d worry about it all later. I just needed to get away from The Inn, and as far away from Daniel as possible.

  * * *

  Three days had passed, and I’d called Lou and made arrangements to pay to ship my belongings. She didn’t ask any questions, just said she was sorry for what happened and wished me well. Her kindness made me feel worse for being such a louse.

  I desperately wanted to call Shannon, but of course I didn’t. I stayed in my condo, stuffing my face with cookies and cream ice cream and finishing the last part of my book. Leslie had tried calling, left eleven messages and sent fifteen emails and texts, but I hadn’t responded. I just wrote. I wrote and ate and went without a shower, opting to focus on the book and hopefully not think about being screwed over again.

  It really wasn’t that big of a deal, was it? Daniel hadn’t committed anything to me, or I to him. Was I wrong to be upset because he didn’t tell me the truth, that he’d lied by omission? And really, I’d not allowed him the opportunity to explain, so was I being overly dramatic? Was there a good explanation for what happened?

  As for Leslie, she had been my agent for close to six years now. We were friends, almost family. We exchanged real Christmas and birthday gifts, ones with a personal touch, not just boxes of chocolates. What happened? What really happened?

  The more I didn’t think about it, the more I thought about it, and I realized I needed answers. I picked up my cell and dialed Leslie. The call went straight to voicemail. She was either with a client or in a publisher meeting, those were the only reasons she let her calls go straight to voicemail.

  I couldn’t contact Daniel unless I did it through his website, but I wasn’t sure who would see the email since I didn’t quite know who he was actually published with. My publisher had access to my site, as did my marketing manager.

  Marketing manager. Didn’t Daniel mention he had a marketing manager also? Maybe, just maybe he did, but not from the small publisher, from mine.

  I called mine and chatted like I wanted to simply check in on things. “Hey, do you know who handles Daniel Royal?”