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Alex sighed. “Okay, so maybe it’s not the most brilliant theory ever created.”
“It’s not a bad theory. You still have to fill a few gaping holes: Like who sent us here and who exactly is the love of JJ’s life and how are we going to recognize him. Like this Kennedy Cooper person. How do we know that he’s actually ‘The One’?”
“Okay, I didn’t say it was a perfect theory. But I don’t see you creating a better plan. Any ideas, Einstein?”
“Not yet. But if we can’t convince her that Kennedy Cooper is her true love, and the effort is not getting us very far yet, we may very well be here forever, according to your theory.”
He took a gulp of coffee and tossed a cookie in his mouth. “Oreos,” he said, chewing enthusiastically, “my favorite.”
She gazed at him a moment, lost in his eyes. The phone rang and startled her out of her romantic interlude. She looked at Blake who shook his head. “No,” he added for emphasis.
“What could happen?” Not waiting for an answer, she grabbed the receiver. He grabbed the book he had been reading earlier.
She summoned her best professional voice. “Good morning, JJ Spritely’s office, may I help you? No, I’m afraid she’s not here at the moment, she’s out running a few errands. May I take a message?”
“Well, just who am I speaking with?” She became defensive. “Oh, I’m sorry, Nan. JJ speaks of you often.”
“Me? Who am I?” She flashed a panicked look over to Blake, but it was useless. He had buried himself in the book. JJ’s history book to be exact,The Historical Roots of Conspiracy Theories: America’s Counter-History.He seemed completely oblivious to the mess she found herself in.How can he immerse himself in a book so quickly?
Her immediate concern, though, was to answer Nan’s pointed question.
“I’m…I’m…JJ’s new personal administrative assistant. Yes, that’s exactly who I am.”
Apparently, this revelation proved awesome enough to bring Blake back from his historical journey. He peered quizzically out from behind the book. If she didn’t know better, she would think he was laughing at her.
“When did she get an assistant?” Alex repeated Nan’s question. “Uh, when did she hire me? Hmm…gosh…how long…just last week. Yeah, yeah, just last week. I’m surprised your sister never mentioned it to you…”
Blake looked up from the book, knit his eyebrows in the what-are-you-talking-about look she could read so well.
“…considering,” Alex continued, as she overacted and emphasized every word for Blake’s benefit, “you and your sister are so close.”
He started to chuckle and as his laughter increased, he sprinted out of the study, slamming the door behind him. She could still clearly hear him.
“Sure, Nan, I’d be happy to take a message. Dinner? Saturday night? Your place? There’ll be you, your husband, Rob, JJ, and one other person.”
Her face lit up. “You don’t say? Oh, no, I don’t know him. He’s a history professor, you say? Well, well, what a coincidence.”
If her mission in this world were to find the novelist a man—and not just any man, but a specific gentleman—then she just hit the jackpot.
“You know, Nan,” she said, trying hard to show her excitement, “I’m looking over JJ’s schedule now.”
She stared at the blank computer screen. “She has nothing planned. Let me just pencil it in here and then if anything changes and she can’t make it, she can call you.”
She hung up the phone, and then gave serious thought of how she would get JJ to go to that dinner party. Obviously, the writer would resist if she had even an inkling of the other person on the guest list. She had to think of something before Saturday.
Chapter 8
JJ returned from her errand loaded with several bags. She found her characters in the living room. Blake apparently was testing out the cable.
Alex was sitting in the recliner on the other end of the room. “That’s the plan,” she said.
“What’s the plan?” JJ said.
Her unexpected appearance startled Alex, who jumped out of the chair.
It was Blake, though, who acted the most suspicious.
“Well, it’s nothing…n-n-nothing at all,” he stammered, as he ran his fingers through his hair. His eyes darted toward his partner.
