“Thanks, but I’m done after I finish this.”
He hooked his thumbs into the front pockets of his cargo shorts. “My boy’s coming tomorrow.”
“That’s nice! Which one?” She took another long drink. He had two sons, if the photos on his mantel were anything to go by.
“Holland.”
“Is that your eldest or youngest?”
“Eldest.”
“Are you going fishing?”
“Might.” He lifted his gaze to the Gulf. “Good weather for it.”
“Beautiful weather, if it holds.” She drank the last of the lemonade and handed the glass back to him. “That was just what I needed. Thank you.”
He grunted as he took the glass. “You want to come for dinner tomorrow?”
“With your son?”
“Mm-hmm.” Brick made a face, then said, “He thinks I need friends.”
“Ah, I see. So I’ll be proof you’ve made a friend?”
“Yup.”
She laughed. “That should be interesting. What would you like me to bring? Or maybe I should ask if he eats vegetables before you answer that.”
“He…” Brick’s eyes narrowed like he was thinking. “Yeah, maybe.”
“Would you like me to make those roasted veggies again then? Or the brownies?”
He hesitated like he was trying to decide.
“I can make both. It’s no problem.”
“All right. Six o’clock.”
“I’ll be there.”
With another soft grunt that might have meant good or okay or thanks, he returned to his place.
She went back to pulling weeds. After this, she’d shower and run to the store to buy what she needed for tomorrow.
Then she was going to work on a new project. Something she’d been thinking about for a while but had yet to act on. Seeing those videos on TikTok had given her the boost she needed.
She was going to query some publishers and see if she could get one of them to give her a book deal for her memoirs. She was hoping to do it without sharing how she’d been scammed out of nearly her entire life savings, so for now, that wasn’t going to be a part of it.
If she had to sweeten the deal to get a publisher to bite, she’d always have that in her back pocket, but she hoped the stories from her modeling days and all the celebrities she could talk about would be enough.
Her plan was to first talk to Cece about it. Cece lived next door and had been an investigative journalist, so Blaise was hoping she’d know something about how to approach publishers. Or maybe she’d even have some ideas about which publishing houses might be the most likely to want a book like that.
Blaise tugged out the last weed and dropped it in the bucket. Sweat dripped down the back of her neck and flecks of dirt covered her arms above her gloves. She couldn’t wait to get into the shower, but before that, she’d text Cece.
Maybe, if the deal happened, Cece could even help her write it. Blaise would have to pay her, so hopefully whatever the advance was, it would be more than enough to cover Cece’s time.
An influx of money would be amazing. Blaise didn’t mind living on a budget, but the budget she was on left little room for extras.
