Page 11 of The Beachside Rental

The thing was, she had no idea what had happened to her apron.She was certain she’d had it when she first stepped onto the porch.And she’d only gone back into the house for a second to retrieve her keys, and then it was gone.

However, when she did return to the porch, her neighbor had been there.Surely, he wouldn’t have taken her apron.She quickly dismissed the idea.After all, why would he be interested in her apron?

She pushed thoughts of her new neighbor to the back of her mind.She didn’t have time for daydreaming.She had to get to work.

It was refreshing.

Simon was feeling much better after his run on the beach.It was a first for him.He used to run back before he became successful—back before his hobby had become his full-time profession—back before he let his writing take over his life.

Maybe his stay on Bluestar Island was his chance to change things in his life for the better.Maybe he would find some balance between his work and having a personal life.The thought made him laugh.

He knew himself too well.Balance was not something that he was good at.When creativity struck, it pulled him down the proverbial rabbit hole.And he didn’t reemerge again until he’d chased down the plot thread that he’d been pulling on.Still, it was nice to imagine having balance.Maybe someday.

After showering, Simon was ready to work.He couldn’t decide if he wanted to work inside or outside.With his beautiful neighbor supposedly off to work, he didn’t have to worry about her loud music or listening to her sing.

He opted to work out on the deck.His agent had been right.There was something relaxing about listening to the roar of the ocean and the feel of the sea breeze on his face.

He just had to get his things before heading outside.He grabbed his keyboard writer, the little notebook where he jotted some ideas, and… He didn’t see his pen anywhere.

He knew it was old-fashioned to handwrite his notes, but he liked the feel of the pen in his hand.He had a lot of notebooks filled with notes for prior books.

Where could it be?His mind whirled with the possibilities.He’d had it the day before so that meant the pen was somewhere in the house.At least it was replaceable.No big deal.

His gaze moved to Gus.Would he have taken it?Honestly, it wouldn’t be the first time the dog had taken something that hadn’t belonged to him.

Simon moved toward the dog.He stopped in front of him and placed his hands on his waist.“Gus, did you take my pen?”

He would swear the dog understood exactly what he’d said and looked at him with the most innocent look like:Who?Me?

Buzz.

“Saved by the ringing phone.”Simon turned away to retrieve his phone from the coffee table.When he saw it was his agent, Gwen, he pressed the phone to his ear.“Hello.”

“Simon, how’s it going?”

“Well, you were right.The island is really nice.”

“Good.How about the writing?”

“It’s…” He paused, trying to think of the right words.“It’s coming along.”

“I just got off the phone with your editor, and they’re chomping at the bit to get their hands on it.”

Simon shifted his weight from one foot to the other.Up until this point, he hadn’t told his agent just how bad his writer’s block had been.

“How close are you to finishing it?”

There was a long pause.

“Simon, are you still there?”

“Uh, yeah… The book isn’t finished.”Simon cleared his throat.“I mean I have a long way to go.”Talk about your understatements.

“This isn’t good.”Her voice took on a note of urgency.“Your publisher is breathing down my neck.We have to give them something.”

He thought about the words he’d written yesterday.They weren’t edited, and he wasn’t even certain he was headed in the right direction.He couldn’t send that out to his agent and publisher.He wasn’t ready to lock himself into this version of the book.Not yet.

“Simon.”Gwen’s voice drew his attention.“I need you to send me what you’ve got.”