Page 23 of Vodka and Chocolate Drops

“Right. I’m sorry. Russell contacted me about his holiday trailer.” John passed a piece of paper to Amber. “He wants you to pay the amount owed, and plans to take you to court if you don’t cover it. Consider this letter a shot across the proverbial bow--a warning.”

She twined her fingers together, elbows resting on the chair’s armrests. “Right. That’s not happening.”

John was like Scott--respected, knew everyone. A man who could be relied on. He was also someone she could be a straight with.

His eyebrows rose incrementally as he leaned forward, echoing her pose. “How so?”

“He put my life in a book. You know, tit for tat. Even if it was an accidental dose of tit.”

“That just sounds wrong,” John said with a chuckle.

Amber made a face and John stood, turning to lift a decorative box that sat behind him. He revealed a single-cup coffeemaker and a bottle of vodka. “Name your poison.”

“Coffee, please.” She had to work later.

She looked at the sludge in her cup, realizing she was ordering what she already had.

John said quickly, “Don’t drink that.”

He began measuring coffee and water into the machine, before switching it on and returning to his seat. “Do you think you have a case for libel?”

“Did you read the book? Everyone knows I’m Ember, even though he keeps saying I’m not. He called Scott Sir Studly, and now everyone thinks I’m in love with him. Well, Liz and Mary Alice, anyway.” Maybe not the strongest argument to bring to a small-town lawyer.

“Were you financially supporting him while he wrote the book?”

“He was on paid sabbatical.” She slumped deeper into the chair. “He took things that I said…” She paused, trying to control the emotions that were ravaging her vocal cords and making it impossible for her to speak clearly. “He took me out of context. It’s my life. I should have a right to have things we said remain private. I’m not a public persona.”

“Real people are used as inspiration all the time. He was within the bounds of the law by the sounds of things--sorry, I haven’t read the book yet. But from what I understand, he changed your name, age, career, locale, and therefore used nothing considered identifying information. People always think they know the characters in an author’s book. Especially if they know the author well.”

“He named the main characterEmber.” Amber held up a finger. “That is one letter off of my name. Doesn’t that say it all? And didn’t he have insurance on his little writing cave? Because that was totally an accident. I filed a report with Scott and everything.”

“No insurance. And he claims it was intentional, vindictive destruction of his personal property.” John propped his fingers in a steeple, then removed his reading glasses. “I should warn you that keeping a low profile during the next few months would be wise. The press could have a field day with your personal life if these allegations become widely known.”

She bowed her head, thinking of her mother. Amber would love to go after Russell for defaming her, but if she was going to protect her mom, her secrets, and sort out her own problems, she was going to have to give up battling her ex.

“I’d like to make a counter offer if I could.”

“Sure.” John picked up his pen. “What do you have in mind?”

“He drops the idea that I need to pay for the trailer and I won’t sue him for libel.”

“He’s the type that would like you suing him--all publicity is good publicity, and publicity sells more books.”

Amber sighed. She didn’t feel it was right to have to pay for his trailer. Not when he had wronged her in so many different ways. She needed something to make him go away. Something good.

“Don’t reply yet then,” she said. “I might come up with something.”

John swung his chair around to retrieve her cup of coffee, doctored it with just the right amount of cream and sugar, and placed it in front of her, taking away the cruddy cup she’d previously ignored.

How did he know how she took her coffee?

“I heard you’re looking for your father?”

Amber started, her attention jerking from her java to the man seated across from her.

He wasn’t her father, she reminded herself. He just knew what everyone else in town knew. Or maybe a bit more, if she was lucky.

“Do you know who my mom was dating just before Philip?” Her heart was beating so fast and hard that in her peripheral vision she swore could see it moving her shirt.

---