Page 8 of Accidentally Yours
“We’d share the workload equally. If both our names will be on the book, both our voices should be present.”
Paige sat back, letting the silence stretch, wanting to make Ethan squirm as she considered his offer. She’d never co-authored a book before, and the idea of sharing creative control made her skin itch. Still, having Ethan’s insights would save her weeks of research, maybe months. And finding the necklace would all but guarantee the publicity her career desperately needed.
“Let me think about it,” she said finally.
Ethan opened his mouth, likely to press her for an answer, but before he could speak, a man wearing a Hawaiian shirt patterned with palm trees approached the table, a sheepish smile on his face. “Paige?” the man asked.
She blinked, startled. “Yes?”
“I’m David,” he said, pointing at his face with both hands. “Your, uh, date?” Inching closer, he added in a conspiratorial whisper, “Pineapple.”
Oh no.Her blind date. Paige had completely forgotten. She shot Ethan a sideways glance, finding him leaning back in his chair, watching the scene unfold.
“Right,” Paige said, standing and smoothing her shirt, trying to regain some composure. She reached out awkwardly to shake David’s hand. “David. Hi. Pineapple. Yes.”
David shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flicking between her and Ethan. “Am I interrupting something?”
Ethan crossed his arms, clearly enjoying himself. “Yep,” he said, now grinning.
Paige ignored him. “David, this is Ethan, an . . . acquaintance from work. He was just leaving.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Was I?”
“Yes,” she said sharply, turning to David. “Actually, let’s grab a seat at the bar. I could use a drink. Something stronger than a lemonade.”
David perked up. “Uh, great. After you.”
As Paige took her purse and walked off, Ethan’s voice followed her. “Call me. Your editor knows how to reach me.”
“We’ll see,” she tossed back over her shoulder.
But as she escaped, her sneakers crunching over the sticky floor, Paige felt the weight of Ethan’s gaze, sharp and unrelenting. It burned against her back, daring her to glance at him. She clenched her jaw, refusing to give Ethan the satisfaction.
Besides, all she could think about was the clue in her purse. And how she could solve it—without his help.
Chapter Four
Wherethehearthbakesa savory delight,
a pie is shared, under soft candlelight.
A favorite spot where love would bloom,
find the name etched in the dining room.
“I’ve been racking my brain all day. I still don’t know where to start looking.” Paige groaned, slumping over the kitchen table. Her open notebook, filled with scribbled guesses, lay in disarray next to her laptop. At least she wasn’t alone in her frustration. Her best friends, Gigi and Alice, had answered her call for an emergency yappy hour—their code word for margaritas and girl talk.
The three of them had whipped up drinks, and Alice’s cozy apartment hummed with the comforting aroma of something baking in the oven, but Paige couldn’t focus on anything except the frustratingly vague clue sitting next to her notebook.
“A hearth baking a savory delight,” Gigi repeated, leaning casually against the counter as she twirled the stem of her margarita glass. “That’s pizza, right? It has to be pizza.”
“That’s a solid guess,” Paige replied, knowing her friend’s love for Italian cooking. If anyone could sniff out a clue related to food, it’d be Gigi.
“Maybe,” Alice said from the couch, her knitting needles clicking in rhythm. She always thought best while knitting, and in the short time since yappy hour began, she’d already finished half a scarf. “But it could also reference sweet pies. What about a bakery?”
Paige pursed her lips. Gigi raised an eyebrow, taking a thoughtful sip of her margarita.
“Who eats pie by candlelight?” Gigi asked, sounding genuinely interested in this concept.
