Page 7 of Long Story Short

“So let’s make a plan.” His tone is matter-of-fact. Pop has always been a man with a plan, and because of that, I’ve been a planner too. And right now, I know that’s exactly what I need to do to feel better.

“Let’s do it,” I respond, lifting my fork up and taking another bite of my steak. His chef did something new with the recipe tonight that has my eyes almost rolling back in my head at how delicious the steak is.

“I think you need a change of scenery,” Pop offers. “You were just holed up at your house finishing the book. I think to go back in and rewrite it, you should go somewhere else.”

My eyes scan over the wrinkles on his face as I think about his statement. “Like where?”

He shrugs as he wipes at his mouth with the cloth napkin. “Anywhere you want. Book the company jet and go. Wherever you think you’ll find the most inspiration.”

I narrow my eyes as I ponder his idea. It isn’t a bad idea to get out of my house and go somewhere different, but I don’t know how I feel about traveling away from him. I recognize Pop’s age, and I don’t like to be far from him. “I don’t know,” I hesitantly respond.

“What don’t you know?” he barks.

“I don’t want to go far,” I confess. I know he probably won’t like my logic behind why, so I sidestep it a little. “I want to be close enough to still do dinners with you every week.”

He rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to have dinners with your old grandpa every week. Decide where you want to go, Josephine, and go there. Don’t worry about me.”

I keep my mouth shut as I fight the urge to respond that he’s the only person in this world I have left to worry about. I know he’d be grumpy about it if I said those words out loud, so instead, I keep them in, no matter how true they are. “I can’t go far anyway. You know Mouse doesn’t do well on long plane rides.”

“You and that damn cat,” he grumbles.

“Don’t talk about my baby that way,” I tease.

I adopted Mouse as a kitten a year ago, and as much as Pop likes to pretend he doesn’t like my cat, he loves Mouse. He just also loves to tease me about him because I used to swear I was a dog person. Then I met Mouse and decided maybe cats were more my thing.

Pop shakes his head at me before scraping a hand over his mouth. I leave him to his thoughts for a few moments before he speaks up once again. “Why don’t you stay at our Hamptons house?”

I frown because I kind of forgot the house existed. We went there a lot when I was a kid and during my teen years, but I haven’t been back there in a long time. Pop has so many properties all over that I can’t even keep track of everywhere he owns houses.

“Why the Hamptons?”

“Because it’s a short jet ride. You can still come home to have dinner with me whenever you want—although it isn’t necessary—and it’ll still be a change of scenery, which I think will be good for you. We’re still members at Pembroke as well, so you can go there when needed for food, spa days, anything you want.”

I sit back in my chair as I think about his words. Pembroke is another place I kind of forgot about until now. I know Pop occasionally has gone out to the Hamptons and to the famous country club over the years, but I can’t even recall the last time I was there.

“Your silence instead of arguing with me tells me that you might actually be considering it,” Pop teases.

I smile before pretending to throw the napkin from my lap at him. I don’t actually do it, knowing that if Heather caught me, she’d scold me, no matter how old I am now.

“It isn’t a terrible idea.”

“It’s a good one. Now, don’t overthink it, and just say yes. It wouldn’t hurt for one of us to actually visit the place anyway and make sure that the property managers have managed the upkeep well.”

Pop has a point. I do think I need to get out of my house to find more inspiration to rework this book. I don’t know how inspired I’ll feel writing in the same place I was just locked away in. A change of scenery would be great for me. And I really can’t think of any complaints about the Hamptons. There’s a reason so many people from Manhattan—and even from other places—choose to spend the summer there. It does seem like the perfect location to write a book.

“In fact, I’m going to call the property managers now and tell them you’re going to be there tomorrow morning. I’ll get you on the jet as well.”

“What if I said no?”

“I’m not letting you,” he immediately responds as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. I keep my lips closed as I fight the urge to tell him that there are no phones allowed at the dinner table. It was a rule of Nan’s, and normally he still follows it religiously, but I’ll give him a pass since he’s helping me.

“Well, I was going to say yes anyway,” I announce. I cross my arms over my chest and watch him closely with a smile on my lips.

For the first time today, I feel excited about something. I feel hopeful. As always, he knows all the answers and just how to make me feel better. Hopefully, escaping to the Hamptons to finish this book is exactly what I need to produce a manuscript that’s so good not even my shitty ex-boyfriend will be able to deny it.

FIVE

TYSON