Page 38 of And I Love Her

“That’s what I was hoping you would come up with.” Linda sighed. “At this point, I’m not sure your brand of scholarship suits the tone of the Fire imprint.”

Callie tightened her grip on the phone. If Cambridge rejected her proposal, there were other publishers she could approach—but none of them would get back to her before her tenure review. It wasn’t just about having an accepted proposal either—Fire Imprint was developing a reputation for taking on the most cutting-edge and innovative scholars. She wanted to be one of them.

But apparently she wasn’t even close.

“I’ll rework the proposal again,” she said quickly. “Let me think about it some more.”

“I really don’t think—”

“Give me until the end of the month.” Callie’s heart kicked up in panic. “I’ll have an entirely new proposal for you. If it’s not what you’re looking for, I’ll take it somewhere else.”

“I’ll give it one more look,” Linda finally said. “Then I have to move on.”

“Thank you. I’ll email it to you before the thirtieth.” Before the other woman could change her mind, Callie thanked her again and hung up.

The book proposal blurred in front of her eyes. She drew in a breath and collected her composure. She wasn’t out yet. She just had to come up with something “more contemporary and engaging”—whatever that meant.

After glancing at the clock, she gathered up her lecture notes, put them in her satchel, and headed out of the building. She had three lectures and two discussion sections, plus office hours, a meeting about an upcoming conference, and a stack of papers to read and grade. She also had to stop by Sugar Joy, check on her mother and ask about her doctor’s appointment and new vendor invoices, and make sure the plumber had fixed the leaky faucet.

No time to think about Jake. None whatsoever.

Except there he was, lingering in the back of her mind like a super sexy version of a Hogwarts’ house ghost. One who wouldn’t leave her alone.

Callie made it through the rest of the day on automatic pilot—at least no one could fault her for not knowing her material inside-out—then closed up her office and drove to Sugar Joy. Her sister Rory was refilling cookie baskets behind the counter, her long black ponytail swinging behind her and a smudge of powdered sugar on her cheek.

“Hey, Rory.” Callie picked up a napkin and handed it to her sister, suppressing the urge to remark that Rory’s psychedelic Bob Marley T-shirt and frayed denim shorts were not exactly appropriate Sugar Joy attire. “Is Mom here?”

“She went over to Metalworks, but she should be back soon.” Rory wiped her cheek and tossed the napkin into the recycling bin.

“What did she need at the hardware store?”

Rory shrugged. “Hardware.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know.” Rory put a full basket back in the display case and bit into a chocolate-chip cookie. “I don’t keep tabs on Mom’s every move and purchase. That’s your job.”

Callie sighed. “Why are you and Aria both on my case about Mom all of a sudden? And did you pay for that cookie?”

“Because she’s bitching to us more than usual about you,” Rory replied. “And no.”

With a frown, Callie dug into her satchel for her wallet and tossed three dollars in the cash register. “Mom’s bitching about me?”

Rory groaned around a mouthful of cookie. “Notbitching, but she’s…well, you kind of get in her space and try to control stuff. Maybe it’s finally getting to her a little. She doesn’t want to tell you directly because she’s worried about you.”

“Why?”

“With all your work and the tenure thing.” Rory waved a hand at Callie’s suit and satchel. “She doesn’t want to upset you.”

“You and Aria clearly don’t have the same concern.” With a little huff, Callie patted a loose strand of hair back into her chignon and eyed her sister’s shirt. “By the way, you’re working at Sugar Joy, not smoking pot at Woodstock.”

“Bob Marley didn’t perform at Woodstock.” Rory tweaked Callie’s ear. “Look, Cal, Mom’s birthday is coming up next month. Aria and I were thinking of treating her to a trip to New York over her birthday weekend.”

“I have high-tea reservations at the Ritz-Carlton that Saturday. We always go to high-tea for her birthday.”

“I know, but maybe it’s time Mom did something different.” Rory rearranged the pen holder next to the register, even though the pens didn’t need rearranging. “It’s been a rough few months, and she hasn’t been anywhere since well before her surgery. She and Dad honeymooned in New York. We thought she might enjoy a trip back, especially on her birthday.”

“By herself?”

---