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?I’d read her books. They were good and a great read. In the last four years, her books inspired me on my own work. She was not yet at best-seller status, but I was sure she would be soon. Her writing just got better and better.
?What I knew about her was this: she lived in New York, was married, and if her book jacket photo was any indication, was a fine-looking lady.
?The chance to actually meet her, eye to eye? Well, from what I’d heard, she was a good three inches taller than me, but close enough.
?“Okay,” I proclaimed, surprised by my sudden decisiveness, “sign me up.”
?“That’s great, you won’t regret this,” Jeff prattled, and he pulled out a manila envelope from his briefcase and put it on the table. “This is just what you need, babe.”
?“I don’t know about that…”
?Jeff made his way to the door, undoubtedly on his way to a meeting, or off to annoy a writer, or kiss up to the next publisher on his list.
?“You go to this, you’ll get ideas. Put ‘em down on paper and we are on our way to another best seller. I can feel it in my bones.”
?We said our good-byes and Jeff went out the door with one final, “You won’t regret it!”
?Jeff was wrong. I already regretted it.
?I’d done conventions before, and they are long, dull endeavors. The only reason I’d done them in the past was that they gave me a chance to get away with Susie to a hotel room.
? The image of a naked Susie as she held a flimsy sheet from the hotel bed up to her neck appeared in my mind.
?“What is it about you and hotels, Mark? At home we make love once a week. We get to a hotel and you want it twice a day!”
?“It reminds me of our honeymoon.”
?“Hmmm. That’s the right thing to say,” she said, and lowered the sheet to expose her breasts. “You don’t mind that I’m a hell of a lot grayer and plumper than when we got married?”
?“You’re beautiful. Come here and kiss me.”
?“Again?” she chuckled and pushed the sheet aside to expose herself completely. “Oh, all right, since it reminds you of our honeymoon.”
?I yanked myself out of the memory. I stood there, as my hands shook.
?I wanted a drink, badly, but it was far too early in the day, and I was drinking more than I should. I grabbed the envelope Jeff left and walked into the bedroom, where my attention was drawn to my empty, rumpled bed.
?Our bed.
?This time, I let the tears come.
2. Frontispiece
Sheryl Homes
?“The Northeast Mystery Conference is only a few days away. I can’t have you backing out now,” whined Gloria in my ear.
?“I didn’t know my ex-husband was going to be in charge of everything!” I fumed. “Have you seen the online schedule? He has me running from place to place and room to room.”
?“Look, you’re one of the founders of the club, and you know how your husband has his hooks in the group. But why are you whining to me, Sheryl? You know I’m retiring.”
?“A fine time to leave me!” I barked into the phone. “Just when I need you.”
?“Look, dearie, you’re good,” she explained calmly, “but you need to find a new agent. This convention will have agents storming the place. If you show up at all these panels and stuff, someone has got to notice you—”
?“I don’t want another agent. I want you!” I finally admitted. “You’ve built my career, negotiated all my contracts—”
?“And my hubby had a heart attack,” she explained patiently. “Dearie, you know I love you, but I’m not getting any younger. I need to get the hell out of New York and be with my man.”
