Page 38 of Knot Her Beta

All I want to do is lie down and rest, but that won’t be allowed. Not with guests arriving soon and supper still ahead.

Back downstairs, the door to the dining room stands open, and light spills into the hallway. It sounds as if the guests have already arrived.

My mom hurries over to intercept me before I enter. “Darling, can’t you leave that thing in your room for tonight?”

I frown in confusion. “What are you…” Then I realize she’s staring at my cane, and I have to fight down my anger. “No, I need it so I don’t fall over. I explained that to you before I flew out.”

She fusses with my collar. “Don’t they have a leg brace you can wear instead?”

“No.”

“Well, excuse me for looking out for your best interest,” she huffs. “No need to be short with your mother.”

“I’m sorry,” I force out. “It was a long flight, and I’m in pain, which is why I asked for this dinner to be moved to tomorrow.”

“Tonight is what worked for everyone else.” She steps back. “Now, be polite to Caroline and her parents. They’re important people.”

“I understand.” Shifting to her other side, I offer my arm. “Shall we?”

She smooths away her frown, and we walk into the dining room together.

Caroline Bennett is already seated, but she rises as I approach, one hand braced on the table’s edge. She’s dressed in a charcoal wrap dress that falls an inch below the knee, her dark hair is pulled back in a low knot, and a single strand of pearls rests at her collarbones.

She’s the height of elegance.

My mother squeezes my arm before she leaves me to join my father and Caroline’s parents as Caroline comes forward. She maintains direct eye contact, her smile small to avoid wrinkles, and she doesn’t even bat an eye at my cane as she holds out her hand.

“Grady.” Her handshake is firm, dry, and her grip lasts the correct amount of time to be friendly without crossing into too personal. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You, too.” I release her hand and take my seat, adjusting the cane to rest out of sight. “How was the drive from New Haven?”

“Easy. Traffic thins out after five.” She settles back into her chair, smoothing the napkin across her lap. “But before we talk about all that, how have you been? I want to hear all about life as a literary agent for Aurora Storm.”

The question catches me off guard. Caroline did her research.

“It was challenging,” I say, reaching for my water glass. “My author didn’t like to deal with anything but the writing, so it was up to me to do all of the rest.”

“What all goes into bringing a book from manuscript to shelf?”

“Mostly contracts and rights management. The unglamorous stuff that readers never think about.”

She absorbs this. “And the editorial side? Were you also involved in shaping the manuscript?”

“I gave notes, yes.” My knee throbs under the table. “Pacing issues or relationship development. Aurora didn’t always agree.”

“But she listened.”

“Sometimes.”

Caroline takes a sip of wine. “How are you enjoying your new work as a freelance journalist? That investigative piece you wrote about the harbor dredging and the shellfish beds was picked up by the Coastal Journal. That’s quite the feather in your hat.”

“It was…” I set my glass down. “You read that? It was rather obscure.”

“I did,” she confirms. “It was a smart angle, connecting the environmental impact to the tourism economy.”

She pauses as the others settle into their seats, the shuffle of chairs and murmured exchanges filling the room, before turning back to me.

“You have a knack for finding the intersection points. The publishing work you did before the accident, handling Aurora Storm’s transition to indie, managing her rights, is applicable to what Bennett Media’s trying to do with their lifestyle vertical.”