Page 7 of Will Bark for Pizza
As I was putting the hand pump back into the car, my phone rang.
Instantly, Husker’s large ears dropped, and I swore.
I owed this dog a lot for everything he went through with me while I was in what I now referred to as my Dark Ages. The mere sound of the phone ringing or a text chiming could cause him undue stress. I’d changed the tones a dozen times, but it didn’t matter. Husker was reacting to me. Would I ever not tense at the sound of my phone? Just another reason Travis could go to hell.
“Sorry, Bubbies.” I tappedanswerwhen I recognized the caller.
“Happy twenty-fifth book release!” Lila’s chipper tone sang through the speakerphone. Husker perked at the sound of her voice, earlier stress forgotten.Small wins. “I hope you’re doing something exciting to celebrate.”
“Does paddleboarding count?”
“Come again?”
“I’m about to get on the lake with my paddleboard.” Ifeigned nonchalance, but inwardly I felt guilty for keeping yet another secret from yet another person. Lila Quinn was my personal assistant and currently, the only close friend still treating me like one. She was the reason anyone even knew about today’s book release, because I sure as hell wasn’t on social media shouting it from the rooftops.
I met her at a local writers’ conference two years ago, and we hit it off immediately. She was a godsend on the marketing that overwhelmed me when my author career really took off. Without her, I’d have drowned long before now.
“Where did you rent a paddleboard?”
“I own one.”
“Since when? And where are you? Standing Bear Lake? I can meet you there in half an hour.”
I let out a heavy breath, deciding it was best to just spit it out. “I’m in Colorado.”
“Colorado?” she repeated. “Is everything okay? Is someone sick? Oh, God, did someone die?”
“Everyone is fine.”Everyone but me. “I had a dream. About my mom.”
“Oh.” Understanding and compassion warmed her tone, stripping it to the equivalent of a verbal side hug. She was one of the few who knew about my Mom dreams and what happened the last time I ignored one. “She wanted you to come home?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Now, I knew why. But I wasn’t ready to tell Lila the bookstore was closing. I wasn’t ready to face that reality myself.
“You didn’t want to invite your PA?” she asked, tone hinting at hurt and confusion but still hugging me tight.Best PA ever. Bestfriend. “You know I love a good road trip. And we could’ve gotten some epic social media footage.”
If it hadn’t been for Lila, I’d have no social media presence at all.
“It was super last minute.”
“I can still come meet you out there,” she offered. “Oh! You could do a book signing at your mom’s bookstore! I’ll bring everything. All you have to do is show up and smile.”
I let out a laugh, because we both knew I’d never do it. I kept my author identity a secret. My profile picture was merely my author logo, and I never posted a single picture on any platform that showed my face. I liked the anonymity. It’d come in handy when I eventually confessed to my readers that I was done writing paranormal romance.
“Just think about it,” she encouraged.
“No one here even knows I’m Diana Davenport.”
“No one?”
“Just my cousin, Aspen. I’d be mortified if anyone found out what I write.”
“You make it sound like writing sexy vampire romances is some sort of crime,” she chastised.
I couldn’t imagine the book club Mom started before I was born would be excited to find out I wrote paranormal smut. They’d show up to a book signing for Brenda Mason’s daughter, but once they read the first chapter, they’d be horrified and concerned for my soul.
“Trust me, it’s better this way.”
“Promise me if you ever do an in-person event for Diana Davenport that you’ll bring me along. Kidnap me,if you have to. I donotwant to miss your coming-out party.”
