The Sound of Consequence (Puget Sound ~ Alive With Love Book 1) (5 page)

“You look fab,” Jenny said, pulling Stacie out of the brewing fantasy. It was perfect timing. Stacie needed to get the man out of her head if she was going to convince an editor at a publishing house that she was a writer worth taking a chance on.

“Thanks,” Stacie said, grabbing her bag. “Let’s go.” Before she chickened out.

Meeting CC wasn’t as scary
as Stacie had anticipated. She was actually a human being, friendly and warm, thrilled to meet Jenny’s best friend and excited to see Stacie’s work.

With little effort and no anxiety, Stacie had told CC about the eight stories she’d already written and that the first two had storyboard sketches for the illustrations. CC asked to see the storyboards. Stacie hesitated, explaining they were raw sketches in her traveling notepad, but CC didn’t care. At Jenny’s urging, Stacie handed the notebook over and the editor asked if she could make copies.

“Of course you can,” Jenny answered, to which CC laughed.

“I always thought you’d make a great literary agent, Jen, but I need Stacie’s permission, not yours.”

“What will you do with the copies?” Stacie asked, hoping she didn’t sound too naïve. This whole publishing business was new to her. Yes, her best friend had been marketing for a publisher for years, but that didn’t translate to usable knowledge on Stacie’s part.

“I’m going to be honest, Stacie. I love this. Your stories sound fantastic and your ideas here for the illustrations are great. Series are popular and a writer who illustrates is an editor’s dream. It’s one less person to coordinate and negotiate with. I want to take this to the acquisition team. How soon can you get me an actual illustration?”

Stacie’s mouth dropped open, a fact she realized only when Jenny reached over and lifted her chin. Apparently CC had a sense of humor because she laughed at them.

“I, uh, I wasn’t expecting things to move this quickly.” It took years, didn’t it, for a writer to catch a break?

“It usually doesn’t,” CC acknowledged. “But you’ve got two things going for you. I owe Jenny. She’s done some miraculous marketing on books that were on the brink of flopping. I trust her, which is why I agreed to meet you.”

Jenny had told her that networking was just as important as talent, but Stacie didn’t want to be accepted based on someone else’s reputation. Her work, her art, was important to her. Stacie needed to be accepted based on her skill, not Jenny’s fast talking.

CC came around the desk and stood in front of Stacie, a broad smile on her slender face. “This work, Stacie, it’s incredible. You’re talent is obvious, both in the writing and the sketches. With this series, you have long term potential and it’s been a long time since I’ve worked with an author as passionate as you. I think we should go for it. I can’t take you on without bringing this to the A-Team, but I can count on one hand the number of times in nine years when they haven’t accepted one of my pitches. They’ll want to see an actual illustration, though.”

“I’m painting the illustrations. Oil on canvas.”

“Another reason I want you. That’s unique. We get watercolors, drawings, computer graphics, but we don’t see a lot of oil on canvas. It’s a unique presentation for fresh stories.” CC pointed to the sketch of three fairies rescuing a dragon from the incoming tide. “Can you have this one to me next week? Say Wednesday.”

Stacie gripped the arms of the chair, afraid she was going to faint or levitate. Whatever anxiety or excitement she was fighting, how could she say no to this request? It was her dream. She was actually living her dream.

“Yes, next Wednesday.”

“Great. Just let me copy this and I’ll put you on my schedule for next Wednesday.”

Stacie floated home. She didn’t care that her feet ached in the three inch heels or that she’d forgotten to grab her sneakers out of Jenny’s office. She had her first deadline. If the acquisition team, or A-Team as CC as called it, accepted the pitch, Bay City Publishers would draw up a contract. The standard was for two or three books at a time, with right of refusal on the next book. Stacie wasn’t required to have one, but CC recommended she find a literary agent, someone who understood the legalese of a contract. When Stacie explained that her brother was a lawyer, CC smiled. “A best friend in marketing and a lawyer brother. Let me guess, your father’s a tax accountant.”

No, Stacie’s father was manager at a shoe store. But she did appear to have some pretty good professional contacts in her very small circle.

Stacie spent the rest of the morning actually painting. Sitting on the balcony, she conjured up what she could remember of the scenery she’d taken in on the ferry. The buildings that occupied southern downtown, or SoDo as she’d learned the locals called it, prevented her from having a view of Elliot Bay from the fifth floor balcony. The memories were fresh enough in her mind, though, that she produced something worthy of a canvas. This painting wouldn’t actually be a product in her books, but she was dusting off her talent, so to speak. She hadn’t painted in years and knew better than to think her first attempt would produce an illustration worthy of going to the A-Team.

By late afternoon, her hand began to cramp, which was all the excuse she needed to put the paint away and spend the evening in the bed of her sexy neighbor. Stacie stood in her walk-in closet trying to decide between black jeans or blue jeans and tank top or tee shirt. Did it really matter what she wore? He’d seen her in jeans and a sweatshirt this morning and there was no mistaking the erection he pressed against her. So she didn’t need to impress him. Stacie could not, however, convince herself not to obsess over an outfit, so she raided Jenny’s closet.

It was ridiculous, really, since her plan involved clothes being dropped to the floor as soon as they entered his condo. No point ironing for that event, but iron she did.

Settling on a blue wraparound skirt and a white lace shirt with a plunging neckline, Stacie decided her own new wardrobe was in order. She wasn’t a school teacher anymore and Greg wasn’t around to dictate what was appropriate for her to wear. It was time to dress a little sexier.

Blue open-toed sandals with two-inch heels from her own closet matched the outfit. She touched up her make-up, then grabbed her shoulder bag and headed out the door.

Because of the sandals, it took Stacie almost twice as long to walk to the ferry as it had that morning. Anxious to see Owen, she had given herself plenty of time and the sun was still high in the sky, so she tried to enjoy a leisurely stroll through the city on a warm April evening. When she arrived at the terminal, passengers from Bremerton were disembarking the ferry.

Anxious to get on board, Stacie waited without a lot of patience for the long parade of evening commuters to make their exit. Within minutes, the boarders started moving onto the ferry. After getting comfortable at the front of the boat, she was still more anxious then she wanted to be.

The ferry ride across the sound took an hour. That was enough time for doubt and second thoughts to hit her as hard as the crossing wind. Eyes closed, Stacie breathed in the brisk sea air on a deep inhale. Was she really capable of having a purely sexual relationship? That was her plan, despite the fact that it was more than the anticipation of sex that had her wishing the ferry sailed faster.

Recalling the way Owen looked at her made Stacie’s heart race. Yes, it was obvious he wanted sex too, but his gaze held some other emotion that didn’t fit into Stacie’s plan. A part of her wanted to be wrong because she was focused on sex and sex alone, not a serious relationship, and she was afraid that if he was more emotionally attached than she was, she’d hurt him. That was something she didn’t want to do.

But, hey, he was a guy. Weren’t guys into sex without strings? Maybe she was stereotyping or overanalyzing. Stacie didn’t have enough experience to really know what she was getting into so she tried to rationalize the second thoughts. This was just a fling, something completely out of character, to mark the start of her new life. She could just enjoy herself for a little while. She was capable of that. And Aphrodite would agree that Stacie deserved a few more orgasms.

Until her night with Owen, she’d never experienced an actual orgasm. She’d never felt the toe-curling, muscle-tightening pleasure that Jenny, Audrey, and other friends had raved about. For years, Stacie had thought she’d experienced one, but as her closest friends had pointed out, if she wasn’t sure, then she hadn’t actually had one.

They were right.

When she’d had that first one with Owen, she knew. There was no doubt what was happening and there was no doubt that she’d never before experienced such pleasure. All her time with Greg had been so routine, practically clinical. All she could remember was reviewing lesson plans in her head while he worked himself out on her. At some point, she’d even stopped pretending that it was good for her. Greg didn’t seem to care. He got what he needed and according to him, it was her fault she was so frigid. Some women were just made that way and they’d have to live with that.

Well, Greg, you were wrong. I’m not frigid at all.

So yeah, she most certainly did deserve a fling. The problem was all the churning she felt deep inside her heart. She could hardly fathom the way this stranger made her feel. She didn’t even know him, for crying out loud. At least she knew his name now, but that was just logistics. She didn’t know who he was as a person. Of course, having a sexy fling didn’t require that kind of knowledge. The problem was, deep down, she wanted to know him. That could complicate things.

Or maybe not. It was likely they would spend a significant amount of time together with their clothes on. Riding the ferry, walking to his condo, while they recovered from amazing, intense orgasms. Stacie could feel less like she was having sex with a stranger and more like he was a friend with benefits. Yeah, lots of mature adults had friends with benefits, right? It was pretty normal nowadays. So yeah, sexy fling with a friend, them both reaping the benefits. No strings attached. It was perfect. And when she finally got him out of her system, they’d just be neighbors.

The captain made his standard announcement and she turned her attention to the quickly approaching ferry terminal. In less than ten minutes, she’d be in Owen’s arms again. A rush of heat swept through her body and her toes curled while every muscle tightened in anticipation.

~~~

“Shit,” Owen muttered, looking at his watch. Then he glanced at the three men struggling to change the commuter van’s flat tire. “Are we going to have this done in time to catch the ferry?”

“No guarantees, bro,” the scrawny driver said as he loosened a lug nut.

“Relax,” Bryan said, putting a hand on Owen’s shoulder. “There are other ferries.”

“It’s not about there being other ferries, man. It’s about being on THIS ferry. Do you think if I run I can make it in time?”

“You’re nuts. She’s just a girl. Didn’t you learn anything from your ex? Either of them?” Bryan gave him a little shake.

Owen pushed his friend away. “Yeah, asshole, and I can tell you that my ex never had me feeling like this. Neither of them. I know it’s crazy, but I have to see her.”

Bryan kicked the spare that one of the other guys rolled out of the back of the van. “Then you better run, because it looks like the spare is flat too.”

“Shit.” Owen took off running without pause, slinging his backpack over both shoulders.

The glass security door was closed when he arrived at the terminal. He ran down the steps, hoping to board the ferry using the car ramp. A couple of attendants worked to secure the ramp. As Owen approached, they signaled him to stop.

“Please,” Owen pleaded with the smaller of the two attendants. “You gotta let me make a run for it. There’s a girl on that boat waiting for me.”

“Sorry, man, no can do. I could lose my job for letting you through. It’s a safety issue.”

“Look at me, I’m in stellar shape. I run four days a week. I can make it. I would have been there by now.”

The attendant held firm. “Sorry, maybe she’ll wait for you in Seattle.”

Owen ran around to the steps and found himself standing in the same spot where he had left Stacie that morning. Her scent lingered there, making Owen wonder if she’d been there this evening, waiting for him. Maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him. The stupid thing had a tendency to do that when it came to women, showing him what he wanted to see rather than the reality of the situation.

Stacie was different though. She wasn’t like the manipulative women who’d betrayed him too many times. He couldn’t explain how he knew, but his gut told him she was different. Standing there watching the ferry leave, even though he couldn’t see her at the back of the boat, Owen was sure she was there. She had to be.

“Stacie!” he yelled, but it wasn’t loud enough to defeat the motoring diesel of the ferry as it pulled away from the dock. “Stacie!!”

~~~

Stacie had been among the last passengers to board and now sat on a bench near the back of the boat. After arriving in Bremerton, she had waited for Owen in the same spot they had occupied that morning. The Cajun Sex God was a no-show.

A million things could have happened. Maybe he worked late or stopped to help some poor soul with a flat tire. Maybe he went for drinks with his buddies. Or maybe he was just toying with her. Just because he claimed he wasn’t a player didn’t make it true.

Why should she care anyway? It was a just a fling.

The disappointment that flooded her mind was annoying. Frustration joined the party as Stacie realized there would be none of that amazing sex tonight. That’s why she was so desperate for this stranger, the sex. There was no other reason.