Page 23 of Save the Drama for your Mama
“It was one of my top ten books last year,” she said. “I wanted to have Fernando’s babies after reading it, but Penelope got to him first, the tramp.” She studied me again. “Why? Are you thinking of reading it?”
Was that why I was feeling a little nauseated? Was it because I was now considering reading something I thought I would never read? Or was it because I told Cooper he didn’t have a romantic bone in his body, but it appeared that maybe he actually did? I hated being wrong, and admitting it was about to choke me.
I shrugged. “I don’t know . . .”
“You should, and I’m buying it for you.” She snatched the book from my hands. “Consider it an early birthday present. You’ve read every single classic at least twice. It’s time to check out the contemporary best-selling authors. Your new friend is pretty good.”
I scoffed. “New friend? Give me a break.”
Abigail laughed, then bought the book with her employee discount. After she handed it to me, I thanked her and slid it into my purse. We walked a few doors down to MooTime Creamery, ordered, and sat outside at a table on the sidewalk near the Elvis statue.
“What’s it like working with the sexy author?” Abigail said, taking a bite of her Mississippi Mud sundae.
“Correction—grouchy author, although it’s not a surprise, considering what he has been going through,” I said, taking a sip of my Peachy Moo smoothie. “I heard about his mom. I had no idea.”
She nodded. “She’s a legend in Coronado. It’s not a surprise that you didn’t know since you haven’t been here long, plus you don’t work in a bookstore. Still, you should get out more.”
“Hey—I’m out now!” I said, taking another sip of my smoothie.
She smirked. “Good girl.”
Before she moved to Coronado, Abigail and I had been neighbors for over ten years in Imperial Beach, a community nestled in the southernmost part of California, just five minutes from the Mexican border. She was the one who had convinced me to move to Coronado, and her generous offer of a rent-free room in the house she had inherited from her grandparents sealed the deal. This decision had come when I had been dealing with a breakup, plus losing my job in the same month. Abigail had been grateful for my company at her home since her boyfriend, stationed at Naval Base Coronado, had been deployed overseas for eight months.
In return for her kind offer, I lent a hand in restoring the rundown 1915 Craftsman-style home back to its former glory. Thankfully, through word-of-mouth, I secured another restoration consultant job just as I finished her project. Then, in a wonderful stroke of luck and timing, just as Abigail’s boyfriend was returning from deployment, she recommended my services to her friend Chip, who had just been contracted to work on Cooper’s house.
“Look what she’s reading over there.” Abigail pointed to the woman with one of Cooper’s mom’s books at the table next to the cow statue. “We sold out of her books the day after she died, and we still can barely keep them in stock. Everyone thought the publisher would stop selling her books after she was gone. That’s not how it works.”
“Who gets all her royalties now?” I asked. “Cooper and his brother?”
Abigail nodded. “Most likely since she hadn’t remarried. She died when she was relatively young. In her late fifties, from what I remember.”
I contemplated telling her about the picture I found of Cooper kissing his brother’s fiancée, but then quashed the idea since I didn’t want to start any rumors. It wouldn’t have been fair since I didn’t know the truth.
I knew nothing, actually.
Not that it was any of my business, but Cooper had refused to explain the photo. After I handed it to him and had asked him about it, the only thing he said before snatching it out of my hand was, “No comment.” That appeared to be his go-to line when he wanted to avoid talking about something, treating me like I was a member of the paparazzi prying into his private life.
Okay, I might have been pryinga little, but the photo surprised me. It also made me realize that his grumpiness might be coming from more than just one source.
“Speaking of Cooper, you still haven’t told me what it’s like to work for him,” Abigail added.
I shrugged. “The only thing we’ve done since yesterday is butt heads.”
She smiled. “So, you were close enough to run your fingers through his amazing hair, then?”
“Stop.” I laughed, shaking my head in amusement.
“I’m going to go out on a limb and predict he will be your next project,” Abigail said out of nowhere, as if she knew I was thinking about him.
“I’m not interested in Cooper Galloway,” I said.
“Perfect—less competition for me,” a female voice chimed in behind us.
Turning around, I saw Larissa and Lucinda, the two women who had gone cuckoo for Crankenstein in the bookstore. They had beaming smiles on their faces, as if they had concocted a plan to capture his heart. Or maybe they were planning on kidnapping him. Either way, I couldn’t help but feel a mixture of amusement and concern over their infatuation with Cooper.
“Go for it,” I said, trying not to laugh.
It wasn’t as if I were going to do something. I wouldn’t have been surprised if Cooper were plotting my demise at that very moment.
