Page 61 of Words of Love

“I write and publish the news.” He shot her a scowling look. “I don’t make the news. What’s going on with you? You started applying for other jobs yet? I can still contact the editor ofThe Chronicle, if you want to talk to him.”

Brooke shook her head, suppressing a stab of guilt. “I don’t want to get another job because you contacted an old friend for me. I can do this on my own.”

“You applied anywhere yet?”

“A few places,” she hedged, picking up a flyer from his desk.

The flyer advertised the upcoming annual Bliss Cove Book Fair, which took place every February and included book sales, poetry readings, creative writing workshops, and kids’ programs. Though she wasn’t officially on staff, Brooke had always volunteered to help with the fair’s organization and set up—which included her unsuccessful attempts to get Sam to participate.

This year, all Book Fair funds would go toward The Reading Project, which supplied books and literacy education to local underserved communities. Bee Delaney, the Bliss Cove librarian, who was hoping to raise enough money to purchase and outfit a mobile library truck.

Brooke waved the flyer at her grandfather. He’d been the main sponsor of the Book Fair for the past twelve years. “Are you on this year’s fair committee?”

He nodded. “You and Aria going to do your kids’ read-aloud program?”

“We’d love to.” Brooke thought about Title Wave again. The former owners of the bookstore had always participated in the fair, but last February, the store had been on the verge of closing, and Sam hadn’t yet taken charge of it. So Title Wave hadn’t had a presence at last year’s fair…and it wouldn’t this year either, if Sam had anything to say about it.

“Have you talked to Sam Donovan about participating?” she asked her grandfather.

“You said he turned you down.”

“He did, but maybe you could try talking to him.”

Charlie shook his head. “If he’s not interested, nothing I can do.”

“Gramps, he owns the only bookstore in town. It’s ridiculous for him not to be involved in thebook fair. He could just sell books, if nothing else, or at least provide them to other vendors.”

He could also probably connect Charlie with a bunch of other authors for signings and readings, though Brooke would never bring that up.

“Please?” she asked.

Her grandfather eyed her with a hint of exasperation. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Awesome, thank you.” Brooke tucked the flyer into her backpack. “Are you coming to Sunday night dinner at Mom’s?”

“Maybe.” He peered at his computer again. “Make your pecan pie, and I’ll consider it.”

“I’ll make two.” Standing, she leaned across the desk and kissed his cheek. “Love you.”

His responding grunt indicated that he loved her, too.

Brooke left his office and checked in with the other reporters about their weekends and their assignments.

Out of both habit and a touch of desperation, she then walked around town on the “reporter’s beat” route that she’d done while working forThe Gazette. Her daily check-ins with town employees, business owners, the police, even the school crossing guards had led to many of her stories.

Maybe now they’d inspire more creative freelance ideas that didn’t involve sewer systems or the angst of turning thirty.

I Was Trapped in a Snowstorm with a Thriller Writer.

It was kind of like that Stephen King book, except instead of broken legs and an axe-wielding psychopath, there was hot naked snuggling and a man who doesn’t know how much he needs to believe in love.

If Brooke had a complete lack of scruples, that story might get an editor’s attention.

Forcing her mind back to the task at hand, she waved at a police officer who was approaching his vehicle. “Hi, Scott.”

“Hey, Brooke.” He smiled warmly as she approached. “Heard about your adventure up in the Sierras.”

“It was all an unfortunate mistake.” Even now, her heart twisted at the implication of calling anything that had happened in the cabin amistake. “Anything interesting going on? I’m doing some freelancing and looking for ideas. Fundraisers, great police dog stories, maybe an inspiring story like the one last year when the department bought Annie Garrett a new bike after hers was stolen?”