Page 11 of The Write Track
Preston acted like he wasn’t the one casting a pall over the table and handed over a business card. “I’m handling the author retreats this year. I guess you could say I’m hosting them.”
The wider he smiled, the more Bella sank in her chair.
“No, you’re not.” Rose vehemently shook her head.
“But I am.” I didn’t know Preston Martin Charles III—I would never think of him as anything other than that now—but there was something smarmy about the way he smiled at Rose.
“You’re not,” Rose fired back.
“I think if you look over the contracts, which you’ve already signed, you’ll see otherwise.” Preston the dirtbag—I didn’t know who he was, but he was definitely a dirtbag—was all business.There was something off about the way he carried himself, and it immediately had my back stiffening.
“Is that so?” Rose glanced at Bella. She didn’t seem cognizant of anybody else at the table. Slowly, she got to her feet. “Let’s have a chat.” She didn’t wait for Preston to agree. Instead, she stormed toward the bar.
Preston sent friendly smiles around the table, although if I wasn’t mistaken, it dipped a bit when he got to me. He was still smiling, however wan, when he turned to follow Rose.
“What the hell was that?” Bree asked. She seemed baffled.
“It seemed weird,” I agreed. “That’s the guy handling the author events this summer?” I rubbed the back of my neck. “What happened to the old team?”
“They wanted to go more professional this year,” Brody replied. He was staring in Rose’s wake, obviously concerned. He was more high-strung than me, so he would worry until he had firm answers. “After what happened with our two stalkers last year…” He trailed off, sending a concerned look toward Bree.
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “I’m not worried about that, so you shouldn’t be either.”
“Yes, because I never worry about the thing I love most,” Brody teased.
My stomach churned when they leaned in to start making out. Okay, it was a short kiss. But it was close enough to making out to have my stomach threatening a revolt. “Do you know what’s going on?” I asked Bella.
She didn’t immediately answer. She sat there, silent, her hands clenched into fists on her lap. Rather than answer, she got to her feet. “I need to run to the ladies room.”
I watched her go, confused, then realized she was heading for the exit and not the bathroom. “I’ll be right back,” I said to the others—not that Bree and Brody would even notice I was gone—and followed her.
I didn’t know Bella Oakley. Something very bad had happened here, however, and I needed to know what it was.
She was just outside the restaurant when I caught her.
“Hey.” I shrank back at the way she jolted, as if I’d screamed her name directly in her ear. “Sorry.” I held up my hands in supplication. “I did not mean to frighten you.”
“What are you doing?” she demanded, fire igniting in her eyes. “Are you following me?”
That was an interesting assumption to jump to. “Technically, yes,” I replied, unleashing one of my trademark smiles in her direction. “Just to make sure you’re okay, though.”
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” She sounded defensive.
I raised an eyebrow. “Um…”
“Fine. I’m obviously not okay.” She waved her hand.
Standing next to her, I realized I was a full foot taller. We probably looked like an odd couple to anybody passing by.
“Care to share with the class what’s going on?”
She didn’t immediately respond.
“I might be of some help,” I tried again.
I had no idea how I would help—helpful was not a word most people would use to describe me—but for some reason, I wanted to help this woman. She looked ridiculously vulnerable right now, and I didn’t like it.
“That man,” she started.
