What I actually said was, “Can you come back tomorrow?”
“I’d love to,” she said without hesitation, as if she’d been hoping I’d ask. “It’ll give me something to do. I’m not very good at being idle.”
“Are you sure your sister won’t mind? You’re only in town a couple of more days, right?”
“Are you kidding? She’ll probably send you a nice fruit basket or something for keeping me out of her hair while she crafts her best-selling novel.”
Allison’s tone was light, but I detected an undercurrent of disappointment there too.
“I like fruit. I should probably eat more of it.”
She smiled, as I’d intended. “Good. If I’m coming back tomorrow, I can arrange the contents of each file so they’re consistent, maybe even help with some of those to-dos.”
“That would be great.”
Allison did return the next day, and it was even better. Just having her around, being able to step out of my office and see her throughout the day, seemed to take a huge weight off my shoulders.
Which was probably why I decided to press my luck and ask her to come in for a few hours on Saturday too. I was going to be here, and I selfishly wanted her here with me.
She agreed without hesitation, adding apologetically, “I’m sorry I can’t stay later tonight. Miriam and I are going out to dinner.”
I hid my disappointment. I’d been toying with the idea of asking Allison out to dinner myself to show my appreciation. She’d spent the last two days working miracles.
It was probably for the best. As much as I enjoyed her company, I needed to keep things professional. I also needed to remind myself that Miriam was the reason Allison had come to Cecilton, not me.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve already gone above and beyond. Where are you going?”
“Someplace she’s been wanting to try. Mama C’s. It’s supposed to be really good. Do you know it?”
Oh, I knew it all right.
“Best Italian food there is.”
“Any recommendations?”
“I’m partial to the chicken piccata myself, but you can’t go wrong, no matter what you choose. It’s all good, trust me.”
Chapter Eleven: Allison
Even though I loved Italian food and was looking forward to a nice dinner out with Miriam, I had to force myself out of the building. I liked it there. It was in my comfort zone, surrounded by law books and case files and court documents.
Paul’s office was much more laid-back than the DA’s office, for sure. I’d been able to do my thing at a comfortable pace without anyone screaming at me. Even better, Paul had recognized my efforts and actually appreciated them.
I supposed I should thank Stella for that. If she hadn’t been such an awful assistant, I wouldn’t have looked so good in comparison.
Once I stepped outside, my anticipation for a night out escalated quickly. I made it back to the apartment before Miriam and was feeling pretty good about myself. So good in fact that I decided to doll myself up for dinner—hair, makeup, the whole nine yards. I was just stepping out of the shower when Miriam burst through the door.
“Oh my God, Ally. You are not going to believe this!”
My fight-or-flight instincts kicked in immediately. I quickly wrapped a bath towel around myself and grabbed the hot curling iron, shoving Miriam behind me. “What happened? Are you okay? Did Caleb find you?”
Miriam pushed at my back, and then she stepped out from behind me and looked at me like I was crazy. “What? No! Nothing like that. Put that down before you poke my eye out.”
“What the hell, Miriam? You burst into the bathroom, screeching like that. What did you expect?”
“Sorry.” For the record, she didn’t look at all sorry. She was practically bouncing on her toes. “It’s just ... you are not going to believe this.”
“Yeah, you said that already,” I groused. I set my makeshift weapon down and grabbed a second towel to use on my hair. “What am I not going to believe?”
“I met Nick Penn!”
I peered at her through a mess of wet, tangled curls. The name meant nothing to me. “So?”
“So? So? Nick Penn is only a USA Today, New York Times, and Wall Street Journal best-selling romance novelist!”
I continued towel-drying my hair and tried to summon some sisterly enthusiasm. “Cool. How’d that happen?”
“You know that guy who’s always in the bookstore, working on his laptop?”
I pictured the handsome guy who sat in one of the alcoves, the one Paul had said was his brother. “Yes.”
“That’s Nick Penn! I can’t believe I’ve been sitting so close to Nick freaking Penn all this time, and I never knew it! And he’s really nice. Mr. C told me I should talk to him about editors and stuff because he was an author too. But never in a million years did I think he was Nick Penn!”
My irritation faded. It was nice, seeing a glimpse of the old Miriam, the one who laughed and smiled and thought the world was a beautiful place.
“Maybe he’ll give you some good pointers.”
“That’s kind of why I’m here,” she said. “He told me about this group for new and aspiring authors. They’re meeting tonight at the bookstore and he’s speaking. I know we’re supposed to go to dinner, but maybe we could go tomorrow instead?”
I buried my disappointment. It was just dinner, right? This was important to her. I had to be supportive. “Sure.”
She grinned and gave me a quick hug. “Thanks, Ally. You’re the best.”
MIRIAM WAS STILL SLEEPING when I left her apartment Saturday morning. Despite staying up late, waiting for her to return, my body was programmed to get up early.
I was glad to have somewhere to go. I knew that might sound strange to some, but like I’d said before, I preferred being busy and feeling useful.
Also, I genuinely liked being around Paul. Bonus: he seemed to like my company too.
In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have planned to spend an entire week with Miriam. I loved
