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  Traci truly did admire what Simone’s book represented, and it was the reason that when she finished her workout, she went back into her office. New York was an hour ahead of Mitchell, so Traci picked up her phone and dialed her editor’s number. Helen, her agent, had already recommended two great representatives for Simone to contact, but now Traci wanted to take things a step further. She was going to ask her editor, who published both romance and women’s fiction, if she would be willing to read Simone’s manuscript herself. Traci knew there were no guarantees and that she didn’t want Simone getting her hopes up for nothing, so for now, she wouldn’t tell her anything about this. But if her editor agreed, Traci would hope and pray for the best. If things worked out, her editor would make an offer, and Simone would be on her way to getting published. She would see her dream become a reality, and that made Traci smile.

  Chapter 13

  Simone deepened her voice, trying to sound as though she were so ill that she needed to visit the emergency room. “It started last night,” she whispered to her boss in a groggy tone, “but I really thought I’d be much better this morning.”

  “It’s not a problem,” Roger said. “You just take good care of yourself.”

  Now she half moaned for full effect. “Thank you so much for understanding. I’m sure it’s just some sort of stomach flu, and it shouldn’t last too long.”

  “I hope you feel better soon, and no worries.”

  “Thank you, Roger.”

  Simone hung up the phone and set it on her desk. She was sorry about lying to him, but last night she’d written and rewritten her query letter so many times, she’d begun seeing tiny black dots popping across her computer screen. Even now, she’d been up since five a.m., doing the same thing all over again. She was pretty sure the letter was fine, based on the dozens of samples she’d read online, but before she sent this on to Traci, she wanted it to be perfect. So she read the draft yet again, and did more minor editing.

  There was one thing she didn’t understand, though. Both the literary agents Traci had given her the names of didn’t accept query letters longer than one page, and they only accepted the first five pages of the actual manuscript. To Simone, these criteria didn’t nearly allow a writer to fully explain her story or introduce herself as a person. Then, as far as the manuscript, how in the world could an agent or anyone else know whether a book was good or not without reading at least a full chapter? Simone knew both requirements were fairly standard, though, because she’d seen the web sites for a number of other agents who had similar guidelines. This was also the reason she had found herself spending hours writing her query letter, trying to figure out a way to trim it down.

  Simone made a few more tweaks and then closed out of her Word software and went to Traci’s Facebook page. She read the five reader comments that had already been posted this morning and then pulled up Traci’s Twitter feed. The first thing she saw was Traci’s tweet from two hours ago. It quoted the scripture Philippians 4:13, and read, “‘I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.’ ~ (KJV).”

  It wasn’t until now that Simone realized she hadn’t posted her own morning scripture, and she had to get better with remembering to do that. She needed to stay consistent—the same as Traci. She wasn’t sure what scripture to post, so she Googled “a great motivational scripture.” Then, when a number of web sites displayed, she clicked on the second one and saw John 6:47 from the King James Version: “Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on me hath everlasting life.” She wasn’t sure why, but there was something about that particular scripture that she liked. Maybe because it offered a certain sense of hope. But then she saw another verse that talked about strength the same as the scripture Traci’s post had mentioned, so she typed that one instead, Isaiah 41:10: “Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.”

  Simone read what she’d typed but then went back to the site where she’d copied the scripture. She actually liked the New Living Translation interpretation better: “Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.” But since Traci always seemed to use the King James Version, Simone would stick with using that. Actually, the more she scrolled through other scriptures, she preferred reading those via the New Living Translation, too, because when she did, the words were much clearer.

  Simone browsed Twitter for a few more minutes and then typed in the URL for Traci’s web site. When her home page appeared, Simone clicked on the “Media” link and then played a YouTube video of a television interview Traci had done with a Chicago news station last year. It was during the release week for her second book. Simone watched the four-minute segment. Then she watched it again. Then she watched it again. And again. And again. But now she replayed the intro.

  “Thank you so much for having me, Donna,” Traci said, smiling.

  Simone paused the video. “Thank you so much for having me, Donna. Thank you so much for having me, Donna.”

  Simone played Traci’s response again.

  “Thank you so much for having me, Donna.”

  Simone paused the video again. “Thank you so much for having me, Donna,” she said, but this time she could tell her tone and diction sounded much more like Traci’s than they had the last time. She also smiled and gave two fast nods, exactly the way Traci had.

  Simone played the video many more times, all while practicing Traci’s words and facial expressions. She also clasped her hands together and rested them in her lap…the same as Traci had.

  Soon Simone moved on to every individual response that Traci had given, still practicing and mimicking every aspect of what she saw and heard. Simone started and stopped the video until she had Traci’s behavior and enunciation down pat. Then she picked up her smartphone and hit the Record icon.

  “Thank you so much for having me, Donna. Thank you so much for having me, Donna.”

  She stopped the recording and played it back. Then she played this particular part of Traci’s YouTube video again. Then she played her phone recording. Then she played the YouTube video again. And then her phone recording. She was so happy with how close her voice sounded to Traci’s that her heart beat faster than normal. She was elated because when it came time for her to do TV interviews, she’d be well prepared. Although, there was one thing that bothered her, and that was her name. Traci Calloway Cole had a special ring to it, and sounded a million times better than Simone Phillips. This also made Simone want to forget about planning a wedding, so that she and Chris could get married right away at the courthouse. If they did, she’d be able to use her maiden name and new surname as soon as possible.

  “Simone Phillips McCann,” she spoke out loud. “Traci Calloway Cole. Simone Phillips McCann. Traci Calloway Cole.”

  Her future married name sounded okay, she guessed, but if only Chris’s last name could start with Ph the same as hers, it would be perfect.

  She played around with a few examples that would work much better than McCann. “Simone Phillips Phalen. Simone Phillips Phifer.”

  She would even settle for a last name that began with F, since it would still create the precise kind of alliteration she was looking for.

  “Simone Phillips Foster,” she said. “Simone Phillips Faulkner. Simone Phillips Freeman.”

  Simone knew there was nothing she could do about Chris’s name, but there was a way to fix this little dilemma. She would use a pen name for her books. Writers did this all the time, so why shouldn’t she?

  She spoke out loud again. “Traci Calloway Cole. Simone Phillips Freeman. Traci Calloway Cole. Simone Phillips Freeman.”

  Simone smiled as she repeated Traci’s name with her new name, over and over and over. It was priceless, and she couldn’t wait to use it on her first book, social media pages, and future web
site.

  But now, Simone got up and walked down the hallway to her bathroom. The whole maiden-name/married-name scenario had forced her attention in a different direction, but it was time she got back to practicing Traci’s interview responses.

  She stepped in front of the mirror. “Thank you so much for having me, Donna. Thank you so much for having me, Donna. Thank you so much for having me, Donna.”

  Simone smiled and nodded twice each time, and although she could tell she definitely sounded like Traci and now moved her hands and head in the right way, something was off. Something was missing, and Simone knew what it was.

  So she went back down the hallway into her office and sat back down. Then she Googled the phone number for a stylist named Andrea who specialized in hair extensions, the one Simone had heard a coworker talking about. Actually, Simone had seen Andrea’s work, and although she’d never cared much for weave, she’d thought it was one of the best undetectable jobs she’d encountered.

  Simone dialed the salon.

  “Good morning, Andrea’s Hair Studio, this is Vivian speaking,” a woman said.

  “Hi, I’m looking to schedule an appointment.”

  “Okay, I can help you with that. Do you have an idea of what you’d like to have done?”

  “Yes, I’d like to get individual hair extensions.”

  “Then what I’d first need to do is schedule a consultation for you.”

  “I work with one of Andrea’s clients, so I already know her work. I also know what length and style I want.”

  “Do you have a photo of it?”

  “I do,” Simone said, clicking on Traci’s author photo on her web site and downloading it.

  “Great. Well, if you can email over a copy along with a head shot of yourself, Andrea can take a look. I’ll then call you with her price. You can also ask any other questions you might have.”

  “Sounds good.”

  The receptionist recited the salon’s email address.

  “How soon do you think it’ll be?”

  “Before Andrea can look at your photos?”

  “Yes, and also how long it will take to get in.”

  “Andrea’s with a client right now, but she’ll probably take a look when she finishes. Then, as far as her calendar goes, she’s booked pretty solid until the end of next week.”

  Simone had been hoping to get in sooner—like tomorrow, if she could—and wondered if she should try a couple of other places. But because she’d heard too many great things about Andrea from her coworker, next week would simply have to do.

  “Okay, thanks, and I’ll send the photos over shortly.”

  “I’ll be looking for them.”

  When Simone ended the call, she downloaded the head shot she’d taken of herself to use on social media. Then she typed a short email, attached both photos, and sent it to the receptionist. She was so excited about getting her hair done, and she couldn’t wait to hear back from Andrea. Based on Simone’s coworker’s comments, she knew Andrea didn’t come cheap, but Simone didn’t care what her hairdo was going to cost. She loved the way Traci wore her thick tresses down on her shoulders, and as far as Simone was concerned, this was an investment. She’d written a book, but once she got it published she’d need to begin promoting it; which meant she needed to look as good as possible. She needed to do what was obviously working for Traci…including dyeing her natural coal-black hair so that it was medium brown…

  Just like Traci’s.

  Chapter 14

  Traci leaned back in her chair and read the query letter Simone had emailed her this afternoon. Then she read it again, marking a couple of items with a red pen. But overall, the letter sounded fine.

  Traci glanced at her watch and saw that it was almost six o’clock, so she dialed Simone’s number.

  “Hey, Traci,” she answered.

  “Hey, how are you?”

  “Good.”

  “I know you probably just got home from work, so I can call you back later if you want.”

  “Uh, no…It’s fine…I, uh, got off a little early today.”

  Traci wondered why Simone was stumbling over her words, but she didn’t question her. “Oh, okay, well, if you have a minute we can go over your letter.”

  “Of course. What did you think?”

  “I thought it was great. I wouldn’t change anything you’ve written, and the only items I marked up were a couple of echoes.”

  “Can you give me an example?”

  “Yes, and I’ll also scan the document and email it to you. But in your second paragraph you used the word ‘portray’ twice in two consecutive sentences, and in the last paragraph, you ended two consecutive sentences with ‘to you.’”

  “Thank you for taking time to read this for me, and I’ll get the changes made tonight.”

  “I can read it one more time if you want, but if not, I think you can go ahead and email it to both agents.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Traci wished she could tell Simone that she’d called her editor this morning, and that she’d agreed to read Simone’s first three chapters. Traci’s editor had also told her that if she liked them, she would either read more of the manuscript herself or assign it to another editor who acquired romance titles. But Traci knew it was best to follow her first mind in terms of not saying anything until she had good news. Because if for some reason Traci’s editor didn’t like it, she wouldn’t tell Simone anything.

  Traci stood up. “Well, hey, I just heard Tim walk in, so I need to get going. But you have a great evening, okay?”

  “I will, and you, too, Traci.”

  Traci left her office and walked down the long corridor and into the kitchen.

  Tim was already removing his navy-blue suit jacket and hanging it across the back of a chair.

  He reached his arms out to her. “Hey, baby.”

  “Hey yourself,” she said, hugging and kissing him. “How was your afternoon?”

  “Good. After I called you, my boss came in to tell me that we got that five-year distribution contract we placed a bid on last month. So we’re all pretty excited about that.”

  Traci removed a glass dish of baked chicken from the top oven and set it on the granite island. “That’s great news.”

  “It really is, but how was your day?”

  “It was good.”

  Traci picked up the pan of broccoli she’d steamed from the stove and poured the content into a serving bowl. Then she pulled two foil-wrapped baked potatoes from the bottom oven and set both dishes next to the chicken.

  Tim loosened his tie, opened the first two buttons of his shirt, and sat down.

  Traci set out napkins, silverware, and two bottles of Fiji water and took a seat next to him.

  Tim held her hand, and they bowed their heads and closed their eyes.

  “Dear Heavenly Father,” he began, “we come thanking you for the food we are about to receive. I ask that you bless my wife, who has prepared it, and that you allow this food to serve as nourishment for our bodies. In Jesus’s name, Amen.”

  “Amen,” Traci said.

  Tim reached for the large fork and lifted a couple of thighs onto his plate. “So what are we doing for Easter? Are we having dinner here or going to your parents’?”

  Traci spooned out a helping of broccoli. “Mom and I just talked about that this afternoon, and I told her doing it at our house is fine. She’s still going to cook most of the food, though.”

  “Sounds good to me. I love your cooking, but nobody cooks like your mom.”

  “Don’t I know it,” she said, and they both laughed.

  “Maybe I’ll invite Simone and her fiancé over as well. That is, if she isn’t going to visit her family in California.”

  Tim looked at her. “Really? Why?”

  “Because she doesn’t have anyone here, and you know I hate to see anyone spending the holidays alone.”

  “What about her fiancé?”

  Traci opened the foil aro
und her potato. “Meaning?”

  “Doesn’t he have family?”

  “I don’t know. He might, but I still want to invite them. Is that okay?”

  Tim sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to have them over, because to me the more the merrier. But I also don’t want the same thing that happened before to happen again.”

  “Like what? That crazy drama with Denise?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I hear you, believe me I do. But I really don’t think Simone is like that. She doesn’t seem like the kind of person who’s out to hurt anyone.”

  “Why is being friends with her so important to you?”

  “It’s not. But it’s like I was telling you yesterday, Simone is a writer. You have your coworkers and other business colleagues who you can converse with almost every day, but I don’t have that. I communicate with a few authors online, but ever since that Denise fiasco, I’ve purposely kept my distance from other writers. I haven’t even trusted authors who I can tell are probably good people. All because Denise turned out to be a lot different than I thought she was. I thought she was loyal and genuine, but of course, she wasn’t.”

  “Yeah, and I can understand why. Denise seemed like the real deal to all of us and like she had your back. But all that matters now is that we found out otherwise. She talked about you in ways I never would’ve imagined, and then when you confronted her she cursed you out and hung up the phone. She badmouthed your writing, and she did it at a writers’ conference, no less. Almost like she wanted you to hear about it. But worse than that, she lied and told some of her readers that she helped you write your first book. Knowing full well she didn’t even know you back then.”

  Traci heard what Tim was saying, but she still didn’t believe Simone had that kind of spirit. She wasn’t that kind of person. However, Traci finally responded. “Okay, maybe you’re right. If you don’t want me to invite her, I won’t.”