I held my ground for a few more minutes before giving in and going over. “How are things over here?” I handed each of them a bottle ofwater.
I got a shrug from Zoe and half-smile from mysister.
“You didn’t tell me your friend was a mega bestselling author,”Bellesaid.
“Did she tell you how she worked her way up to that status? That it’s possible?” I poked her a few times foremphasis.
“She did. I’m really impressed with her businessplanning.”
Zoe leaned forward, her eyes darting up to lock with mine. I wanted to reach down and give her reassuring squeeze, or better yet, slip my arm around shoulders and hold heragainstme.
Oneday.
“I think what your brother was really hoping you’d hear was that you can, and should, give yourself a chance to be a workingwriter.”
“That’s exactly what your brother wanted you to hear,” I said. And yeah, my ego soared to hear Zoe confirm mysuspicions.
Workingwriter.
Belle narrowed her eyes at me the way she had since she was a toddler. “I will take Zoe’s information into consideration. I also got her number and email address. She has graciously offered to answer any questions I have.Happy?”
“Very. ThankyouZoe.”
“Ofcourse.”
Belle stood up. “I’m going to find the ladies room and food.” She gave me a quick squeeze. “Thanks.”
“Anytime. She meansittoo.”
“I know,” Belle groaned as she walked away, clearly over mybrotherlylove.
But also leaving me alone in a corner with Zoe. “Mind ifIsit?”
Zoe waved her hand at the vacant seat. “She’stalented.”
“Was there a hidden manuscript in her purse? How can you tell?” I conveniently threw my arm over the back of her seat withouttouchingher.
“She’s done some fan fiction and short stories. She showed them to me on herphone.”
“She keeps that stuff on her phone?” I knew baseball and writing were completely different careers, but thatseemedodd.
“No,” Zoe shook her head. “One is a fan fiction forum and the others are on awritingapp.”
Fan fiction and writing apps? I had a lot of work to do if I was going to keep up with the vocabulary. “You got a taste for herwritingthen?”
“Yeah, like I said...” she adjusted in the seat, leaned back against my arm. “...Belle clearly has talent. From here it’s not how good she is, but how hard she’s willingtowork.”
“Likeyou.”
She turned red again and looked out at the rink. “Isuppose.”
The Pythons had a power play and were rushing the goal but I wasn’t watching them. “Come to dinner with us.” I touched her cheek. “Please?”
“With yourfamily?”
“Yeah. Jack, Riley,Belle,me.”
“You.” She bit her lip and looked upatme.