Between The Sheets (17 page)

'Drink?' Gretta asked, as they all sat down.

'Feel free to have a real one,' Angela added. 'Gretta and I have a rather full afternoon so we have to behave ourselves.'

Walter smiled gratefully. 'A G & T would be greatly appreciated. I've had a long and difficult morning.'

Angela gave the order and they chatted casually as they studied their menus.

'I don't fancy a starter.' Gretta snapped her menu closed and shot Walter a challenging look.

Obviously on yet another weird diet, Walter surmised.

The waiter hovered at Gretta's shoulder.

'I'll have the Dover sole, no spinach, with the dressing on the side,' she told him. 'Have you got any pasta to go with that?'

'It comes with baby new potatoes,' the waiter said quietly.

Gretta eyeballed him. 'I can see that, but I'd like pasta.'

'Some penne, perhaps?' he suggested.

'That will do.'

'I'll have the same,' Angela said with a smile, 'but exactly as it comes.'

'And the Thai sea bass for me,' Walter added.

'Would you like some wine, Walter?' Angela asked as Walter swallowed half his gin in one gulp.

'That would be lovely.'

Angela went up further in his estimation by ordering a half-bottle of Chablis rather than a glass. Or, he worried, perhaps was she just trying to loosen him up so he'd spill the beans about Dana.

Gretta got straight to the point as soon as the waiter had left. 'So, Walter. Fill me in. What's happening with Dana?'

'I'm happy to report that we're back on track.' He smiled at each woman in turn. 'As you know, poor Dana has been through a terrible time. She was devoted to Gus and devastated when he left. I think what she finds hardest is that she doesn't even know why.'

'Because he's a man,' Gretta snarled. 'They're all selfish, insensitive bastards.'

'Present company excepted, of course,' Angela added.

Walter sighed. 'Sadly, I have to agree with Gretta. Most men seem to have a cad gene. I know, I've been there.'

Gretta rolled her eyes. 'Let's talk about Dana. Is the book finished yet?'

'No, but she seems to be working around the clock.' Walter forced an enthusiasm into his voice that he didn't feel. 'I think going through this trauma has given her a new focus, and I think
The Mile High Club
will be a better book for it.'

'Have you read any of it?' Gretta asked, unmoved by his optimism.

'Oh, no, I only ever read the finished product. It's the way Dana and I work,' he explained to Angela.

'Well, it's not the way Dana and I work,' Gretta retorted. 'The first fifteen chapters, she was hardly off the phone. Then nothing. I haven't a fucking clue what's going on. How do we know she's really working on it at all, Walter? Do I need to remind you that there's a lot riding on this book?'

'You do not.'

'Will she meet her deadline?' For the first time Angela joined the conversation.

'If she doesn't, she won't be far off. And given her punctuality in the past, I think we have to make allowances. There are extenuating circumstances, after all.' Walter drained his glass and shot a desperate look at the waiter, who was uncorking the wine.

'I think I've been very patient, given that she's ignored all my calls for weeks.' Gretta scowled as their food was set down in front of them.

'She did call you yesterday, but of course you were on a plane.'

'Yeah, I got the message,' Gretta admitted.

'She feels terrible about the way she's behaved,' Walter assured her. 'She's never done it before and, I know she never will again. I think it's important that we remember what a consummate professional she has always been.' He turned his gaze on Angela. 'Eighteen books in as many years; it's quite an achievement.'

'It certainly is,' the other editor agreed.

Gretta nodded. 'I hear what you're saying, Walter, but I'd like it from the horse's mouth.' She turned thoughtful eyes on Angela. 'Maybe I should go and see her. Hey, I've got a great idea. Why don't you come with me, Angela?'

'When?'

Gretta shrugged. 'Tomorrow?'

'I'd need to double-check my diary, but I think it's possible.'

Walter swallowed hard. 'It's really not necessary. I'm sure you're far too busy—'

'No, really,' Angela said, shaking her head, 'I think it's a wonderful idea. It would be lovely to meet Dana.'

The agent forced a smile. 'Wonderful. She'll be so thrilled.'

'Have you visited Ireland before, Gretta?' Angela asked.

'Yeah, once, about five years ago. I must pick up some of that Waterford glass. And an Aran sweater for JJ. He's originally Irish, did I mention that?' The editor softened visibly as she thought of her new boyfriend.

'Really?' Walter said politely.

'Yeah. His great-grandfather was born in Drogeeda.'

'I think it's pronounced Dro-ha-da,' Walter told her.

Gretta shrugged. 'Whatever.'

Walter gave up and turned his attention back to the English editor. 'So, Angela, you must be excited about introducing the Passion imprint to Britain.'

'Very. Gretta and I have been talking about it for some time, but we've had to deal with a lot of negativity. Some of our directors took a lot of convincing that this genre would work in the UK.'

'Haven't they heard of Mills & Boon?' Walter said, incredulously.

Angela laughed. 'Well, exactly! It's a snobbery of sorts, really. But, thankfully, we've overcome it.'

'I believe that choosing Dana De Lacey to launch it is a master stroke. She is such a pro and she understands the subtle differences between the two markets. The fact that she's Irish and the daughter of a famous poet -' Walter splayed his hands and smiled — 'it's the icing on the cake.'

Angela inclined her head. 'Yes, but, as I'm sure you know, Walter, what works in the US doesn't always work over here. We've found that out to our cost. We need to read
The Mile High Club
before we can come to a final decision.'

Walter felt slightly sick. 'I'm confident that you will be more than happy with it.'

Gretta set down her fork and looked at him, her eyes as hard as flint. 'Walter, let's cut the bull. The fact that Dana was punctual, reliable and humorous got her where she is today. But there are now a lot of female authors snapping at her heels. They're gutsy, they're greedy and, frankly, they're cheaper. I don't want to lose Dana — Angela will tell you that.'

'Absolutely not.' Angela nodded sincerely. 'We love Dana.'

Gretta sighed. 'But business is business.'

'I'm sure
The Mile High Club
will be wonderful,' Angela enthused. 'And we'll be able to forget we even had this conversation.'

Walter drained his glass. 'I'm sure.'

Out on the street, Walter blinked in the sunshine and felt horribly sober. Taking out his phone, he phoned his secretary. 'Get me on a flight to Dublin first thing tomorrow.'

Less than thirty minutes later, Sylvie put down the phone. She looked out of the window at Dana, who was wandering around her garden, obviously lost in thought. If Gretta or Walter saw the author in this pose, they'd be delighted. But Sylvie knew the reality.

When Dana went out yesterday, Sylvie had had a sneaky peek at the
The Mile High Club
file on Dana's laptop. As she'd suspected, no work had been done on it for weeks. But the author was definitely working on something. Sylvie knew the signs. Dana was agitated and distracted, a sure sign that she had embarked on a new project. The PA had scanned the directory for files that had been accessed most recently. There was just one and it had been updated only yesterday. Sylvie had sat and stared at it for a moment. It would be wrong to open it. Still, if she knew what was in it she might know whether or not she'd have a job in six months. Sylvie hadn't been able to resist any longer. She'd opened the file and started to read. She hadn't had long and she'd only got through two chapters when she'd heard the front door open. She'd quickly closed the file and retreated behind her own desk. She'd felt bad. She'd felt as if she'd just read Dana's diary. But then, she'd realized, that was exactly what she'd done.

Now, with a sigh, Sylvie went out into the garden. She had to break the bad news to her boss that she was going to have visitors the next day. Dana's reaction was fairly predictable.

'Holy fuck,' she muttered, her eyes round with shock. 'When is Walter coming? He will be here, won't he?'

'His secretary is trying to get him on a morning flight but she hasn't confirmed yet.'

'And Gretta?'

'She gets in around four, but she wants to do some shopping so Walter said to meet here about seven.'

'How the hell did he let this happen?' Dana wailed. 'What was he thinking of, arranging this behind my back?'

Sylvie handed her the phone. 'You can ask him your-self. He's waiting for your call.'

Dana dialled her agent's mobile and he picked up immediately.

'Dana, darling, I'm so sorry.'

'What's going on, Wally? Why the hell is Gretta coming to Ireland?' She flopped into a garden chair.

'She was in London for a meeting with Angela Wiseman — Peyton UK's editor.'

'Oh, okay. But why are they coming to see me?'

'They're nervous, Dana. They want to see the whites of your eyes, as it were.'

'I'm not sure I'm up to this, Wally.'

'You have to be,' he said urgently. 'And you have to do your best to deliver this book on time, or as soon after as humanly possible.'

'It's not going to happen.'

There was silence for a second and then a strangled cough. 'Okay, then. I'm sure I can wheedle an extra couple of weeks out of Gretta if necessary—'

'I'd need at least six weeks and even then ...'

'Even then what?' he prompted.

She sighed. 'That would only be enough if I was actually able to write something.'

'Dana?'

'I'm sorry, Wally, but I just can't do it.' Her voice wavered.

'No, darling, please don't get upset.'

'But I've let you down,' she wailed. 'I've let everyone down.'

'We haven't lost the war yet.'

'But, Wally—'

'No buts,' he said firmly. 'We'll figure something out. You get a good night's sleep and I'll see you first thing.'

'But Sylvie said you were having a problem getting a flight.' Dana's voice rose in panic.

'My darling girl, I will be with you tomorrow morning, even if I have to stick a feather up my arse to get there!'

She laughed through her tears. 'Oh, Wally. You're the best.'

Iris knocked gently and stuck her head around Dana's bedroom door. 'Mr Grimes has arrived and I've shown him into the conservatory.'

'Thank goodness. Has the food arrived?' Realizing preparing a dinner for four at short notice was asking a lot of her housekeeper, Dana had ordered food from a nearby restaurant. There was a lobster bisque to start — Iris just needed to heat that. For the main course there was cold, poached salmon that would be served with asparagus and baby new potatoes, and there was a lemon tart for dessert. And as Wally was arriving early, Dana had ordered some lunch. She'd also given Sylvie the day off. She didn't want her PA to see how nervous she was, or to witness Walter's reaction when he realized how behind she was on the book.

'Yes, and the wine too.'

'Put some white in the fridge, would you, Iris?'

'Already done.'

'What would I do without you?' Dana smiled grate-fully.

'Shall I serve lunch now?' Iris asked as they went downstairs.

'No, you've enough to do. We'll help ourselves when we get hungry.'

Iris nodded. 'Good luck, then — Dana.'

'Thank you, Iris.' Dana gave her a quick hug. She paused in the hall and studied herself in the large mirror. She had dressed in a simple brown linen dress. A single string of topaz beads adorned her throat and on her feet she wore flat, flimsy sandals of the same colour. Her short bob shone and a pale peach lipstick was her only make-up.

When she walked in, Wally was perched on the arm of a chair, staring into the garden, an empty glass between his manicured fingers. He looked tired and drawn and she felt a pang of guilt because she knew that she was probably the reason.

'Hi, Walter.'

He stood immediately and, putting down his glass, came to embrace her. 'My darling!'

Dana felt her eyes fill as he held her at arm's length to study her.

'You are as gorgeous as ever,' he pronounced, 'but you look worried.'

'I am worried! Gretta's coming.' She went to the table in the corner, where Iris had set out drinks. 'Can I get you another?'

'I shouldn't, but I will.' He handed over his empty glass. 'Your housekeeper makes T & G rather than G & T.'

Dana smiled. 'She's never touched a drop in her life and doesn't really approve of anyone else drinking either.'

'She'd soon change her mind if she worked in publishing,' Walter retorted.

Dana poured his drink and a glass of wine for herself and led the way out into the garden. 'Can you believe how lovely the weather is?' she marvelled, holding her face up to the sun.

'Wonderful.' Wally dusted off a garden chair, before sitting down. 'Talk to me, darling.'

Dana put on dark glasses. 'I'm sorry, Walter. I've tried, but I just cannot finish
The Mile High Club.'

His eyes widened in horror. 'But, Dana, you must! We're at a very important crossroads in your career — probably the most important since you were first published.'

'I realize that, Wally.' She shrugged. 'But there's nothing I can do about it.'

'Of course there is!' Walter flushed angrily. 'You can't just give up, Dana.'

Her eyes filled with tears. 'But what else can I do?'

'But you told me you were writing.' His eyes narrowed. 'Were you lying to me?'

She shook her head, glad that he couldn't see her eyes. 'No. I've been working on something else. It's just an exercise that I thought would help get me back into writing again. But any time I go back to
The Mile High Club .
..' She sighed. 'Nothing.'

He patted her hand. 'Perhaps if you went away for a few weeks; sometimes a different environment helps.'