Page 77 of Driven Daddy

Checking in. Have some news.

Hello? I swear you and your silent phone. Hope you’re working. Please be working.

Look, you need to check in with me before you see something.

Melissa Missed Call

God, that wasn’t good. Melissa only called me when something was really major. Then I noticed the banner at the top of my phone from my calendar app. I had to leave in an hour for the autism charity calendar reshoot.

“Crap,” I muttered. I’d forgotten that was today. Thank goodness for Google Calendar.

It was the whole reason I’d ended up renting the cottage in Crescent Cove. I was lucky I didn’t need to do much in the way of publicity—which, of course, would need to change—but thischarity calendar was a good way to get me some visibility. I’d had photos taken during the summer shoot, but that was before our model had melted down and made us scramble to redo the cover forDate with Disaster.

It wasn’t even my book anymore.

I would make sure the people who cared about the books were taken care of. Even if Jenelle had treated me with far less care.

This photoshoot would also be used to redesign the official cover, replacing the boring floral one we used in a panic. Evidently, couple covers were absolutely not lucky for us. I only hoped the new models would work for us long-term.

My agent would have to wait. I rushed to the stairs, taking them two at a time. I was still sticky from a long walk, as well as an extended yoga session. I’d hoped it would clear my head to write. It had not. Lucky me, but I desperately needed a shower.

Twenty minutes later, I was blowdrying my hair, trying to catalog the dresses I had in the closet. Or maybe I should just go with the cute corduroys and one of the funky sweaters I’d found at Ladybug Treasures. I was definitely developing a problem with the consignment-slash-secondhand shop. They also had beautiful furniture on the bottom of the shop.

Thankfully, I didn’t have any need for the bassinets and cribs that August Beck was becoming famous for. Their testimonials on the website were wildly positive. And from what I’d seen in the shop, I believed it. What could I say, I was ever in research mode, especially since I wrote small-town romance novels.

The whir of the blowdryer and the heat around my head let me imagine a few scenes. Sara Springs was expanding in my head when I let it, but all too often the ideas slipped away with the nerves that always seemed so close to the surface.

I flipped my hair back and decided to keep the straight look today. It was so windy any curls I added would just be blownout. I took five minutes to put on some mascara and lipgloss. And because I was crazy pale save for my freckles, I added a little blush, and then called it good.

I glanced out the back door of my bedroom and saw the trees blowing fiercely which cinched it for the corduroy pants and fuzzy angora sweater in a fun raspberry color.

I tugged on a pair of argyle socks and my vintage brown boots from Ember’s place. Between Vintage December and Ladybug Treasures, I was definitely helping the local economy.

I barely had enough time to get into town and whistled for Bruce on my way down the stairs. He was well used to our schedule and followed me to my SUV.

I dropped him at Judy and Kelly’s house, waving to them as I slammed the back door. “See you tomorrow, Bruce.”

He gave me a side-eyed look over his shoulder and moseyed his way to his moms.

Thankfully, traffic was light since the kids were in school and most people were still at work. I’d spent so much time on Main Street, I knew right where The Sherman Inn was.

I didn’t even have to fight for parking since they had their own lot. Bonus points for all the things today. Quickly, I shoved my sunglasses on top of my head then I grabbed my purse and checked my phone. Another two messages from Melissa.

I didn’t need those nerves to add to the rest of the ones already brewing in my belly. Once in the lobby, I took a quick pit stop at the coffee station and made myself a cup to even me out.

Even if caffeine probably wouldn’t help the jitters, I drank it as I climbed the steps to the floor where the shoot was being held. I was about to ask for directions, when I heard banging. As I got around the corner, I spotted the maze of wires taped to the carpet and the half dozen men loitering in the hallway,

I’d paid for the shoot out of my own pocket, wanting to erase the stain of our old cover and give it a good sendoff. I’d neverbeen overly attached to theDisasterseries. Jenelle wanted to chase the romantic comedy trend and what Jenelle wanted, we did. I’d never really noticed that until our partnership had fallen apart.

But she’d been right. The book had blown up and pushed our career into the stratosphere.

Now I just had to find out who I was without Jenelle and theDisasterbooks.

I could do this. Totally.

I lifted my chin and walked down the hall. I smiled at the guys who were blocking the doorway to the suite. “Have they started already?”

“This is a closed set,” One of the rough-looking men said. He was head and shoulders taller than me, dark brows knit.

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