Barb gasped. “You’re talking about Austin O’Grady, aren’t you? How could you turn down a manuscript from him? Please tell me you didn’t.”
Ensley lifted her glass of wine, cheering herself on. “I certainly did.”
“Didn’t you google him? Weren’t you curious about his story? O’Grady graduated at the top of his class with a degree in accounting, was the Naismith College Player of the Year, and a first-round draft pick. And you turned him down? I can’t believe it.”
“I wasn’t impressed.”
“Damn, girl. He’s a stud. Look at his picture.”
“I’m not in the habit of acquiring a book based on the author’s looks or rewarding anyone for doing something stupid.”
“Or forgiving them.” Barb sighed and gave Ensley a sad smile. “You’re not talking about a basketball-player-wannabe-writer, but the drunk driver who killed your dad.”
Ensley white-knuckled her glass and gulped her wine. “People who do stupid things and end up hurting themselves or others don’t deserve sympathy or forgiveness. And just so you know, I didn’t turn it down because the author was a ballplayer. The guy knows how to write, and I like his writing style.”
“So why’d you turn it down?”
“He hasn’t finished the story. I told his agent that her client needs to work on the ending. When he figures out what he wants to do with his life and does it, the book will have a point. Right now, it’s just languishing between the accident and his desire to return to the NBA. I would buy a motivational book. But that’s not what he’s written.”
Barb smirked. “That was big of you.”
Ensley cringed at hearing the words she’d wanted to fling at Susan thrown back at her. “Well, I didn’t want to destroy his second dream.”
“As I said, that was big of you.”
It hurt to send out rejection letters, but it went with the job—or went with the job she used to have. “Don’t be mean, Barb. I can’t accept everything that’s submitted.”
“I know you can’t. So how’s your recent release doing? It was a historical romance. Right?”
“It was the fifth book in a series, and the author added hot sex scenes to further character development. It wasn’t filler. It was important to their relationship.”
Barb laughed, rolling her eyes. “Don’t tell me readers complained about the sex?”
“Okay, I won’t.” Ensley laughed too, which gave her a rush of warm fuzzies that evaporated quickly. “Well, some readers thought it was vulgar. But here’s the deal. New York Times best-selling romantic suspense authors write the same level of heat.”
“So, what are you saying? It’s all about readers’ expectations?”
“I think so. More readers liked it than didn’t. And the ones who liked it really liked it. What I found interesting was the violence depicted in the battle scenes didn’t bother anybody, but the sex had them slinging one-star reviews.”
“You read one-star reviews, make a note of them, and move on. If it were me, I’d hide in a corner and cry.”
Ensley dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. “If I did that, I’d have to switch careers or live in a corner crying all day.”
“And you’d never switch careers. You love it too much. Now… Changing the subject… What’s George doing in Cambridge?”
Ensley kicked off her slip-on Allbirds, stretched her legs out on the neighboring chair, and rubbed her tight hip, a reminder of her rodeo days. “He has a meeting with a client in the morning. Then he’ll take the train back to the city.”
“So you both had to go to Cambridge to see each other.”
“Okay, it’s time to start this conversation over. You think it’s awful that I sent O’Grady a rejection letter and pitiful that George and I can’t work out a time to meet in the city. And you’re disappointed I didn’t run with the group. So what the hell is going on with you?”
Barb dropped her head back, then slowly lifted it. “You don’t miss much, do you?”
Ensley reached for the bottle of wine and refilled her glass. “In your case, griping is out of character. So what’s wrong? Is it your mom?”
“She didn’t get the promotion she was up for at work, and we’re both convinced it’s age discrimination. I want her to hire a lawyer, but she doesn’t want to rock the boat.”
“I’m so sorry. I know your mom had her heart set on that job.” Ensley had her heart set on her editing job but couldn’t think about that right now. So she focused on Barb’s mom instead, but every time Barb mentioned her mom, Ensley’s gut squeezed into knots.
It was only a year ago that Ensley’s mom had a heart attack and died just two years after her dad, and she missed both of them every day, every hour. They had been her number-one fans, but at least they weren’t around to see her disappointment.
After a fortifying sip of wine, Ensley said, “Have you met Chris? She runs with our group occasionally.”
“The skinny blonde? Sure.”
“She’s an employment lawyer. You should make an appointment for your mom. It’s worth a meeting. She might have a case against her employer.”
“Damn. Why didn’t I think of that?” Barb said. “Maybe Chris will be at tomorrow’s run. If she is, I’ll get her contact info and set up an appointment. I feel better already just knowing there’s something I can do. Mom might not have a case, but at least I can find out. Right?”
“Right.”
Barb blew out a breath. “So, what are you doing in Cambridge?”
Ensley hated lying, but she wasn’t ready to share her news. “I’m meeting with a new author tomorrow. He wrote a book about Teddy Roosevelt, my favorite president, and I love the manuscript. I think it’ll make the NYT best-seller list. It’s that good.”
Barb propped her phone against the back of the bench while she did a few quad stretches. “Just as long as
