Written on Her Heart
Read Written on Her Heart Online
Authors: Paige Rion
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #New Adult & College, #Contemporary Fiction
WRITTEN ON HER HEART
Book One in The Callaway Cove Series
By Paige Rion
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 by Theresa Souders
To my husband for his unwavering support these past months. Thank you for your patience with my obsessions and belief in me. And in memory of my grandmother. Mom said you would’ve loved this one.
Andi bit her lip and fiddled with the hem of her shirt. The assistant peered at her with frigid blue eyes above thick wire frames. Her light hair was pulled into a knot on the top of her head, and a halo of frizz surrounded her round face. “You may go through. Take that hallway there all the way down to the sitting room, and wait until either he or I call you in. The rest of you missed the cutoff for an interview,” she said to the throng of people that stood behind her.
Her words were met with a cacophony of groans and protests. Andi hurried into the hallway before the assistant changed her mind.
“The cutoff was at nine o’clock,” she heard her say to the others. “Do you think we have time to interview the whole godforsaken town? Now go!”
Andi glanced behind her. The assistant was shaking her head and her glasses were falling further down her nose. “Callaway Cove,” she muttered. “Why the hell did he have to pick Middle-of-Nowhere, Ohio? The lake is the only thing worth seeing here.”
Biting the inside of her cheek, Andi stopped herself from defending her hometown and hustled down the hallway of the enormous vacation home, pausing in front of the large French doors. She smoothed her dark, shoulder length hair and glanced down at her khaki skirt and white blouse. The outfit was terribly ordinary. Not dressy enough for an interview of this magnitude. An image of the 1950s, Chanel pencil skirt she had lusted over just last week flashed in her head. The one that cost more than a semester’s worth of textbooks. Damn her college budget. If only…
She shook her head, clearing it.
What mattered most was that she got this job.
A bubble of excitement rose inside her chest, threatening to split her in two. An interview with
the
Ford Delaney. Renowned author. International bestseller. Nothing major. Just
the
best possible opportunity for a wannabe novelist.
Yeah, no pressure.
Andi swallowed hard and willed herself to open her eyes and move forward, but her feet wouldn’t budge.
Come on, come on, come on
… She needed this job
.
Her phone dinged, jolting her from her stupor. She shoved a hand in her purse to silence it, praying the assistant wasn’t nearby. Sweat beaded along her hairline as she glanced at the screen and saw a new text:
Call me later when you get in.
“I’m already in,” Andi mumbled, as she typed
, Got in late last night. Something HUGE came up. Call you in a bit.
She shoved the phone back in her purse and took a deep breath. “Okay, Andi Callaway, you can do this.” she whispered to herself.
“Are you going in? Or do you plan to spend all day muttering to yourself and miss the interview? Either’s fine with me.”
Andi spun around to face the assistant, who stared at her as if she were a bug under her shoe and she’d love nothing more than to squash her.
Her face flamed. “Um…er…I’m going in. Thanks.” Great! His assistant already hated her.
Inhaling, Andi swung open the door, stepped inside, then stopped dead in her tracks. The assistant ran into her back, nearly causing them both to fall. With a disgusted grunt, the woman stepped around an immobile Andi toward the desk at the end of the room.
Andi blinked. The person in front of her couldn’t possibly be there. “Rachel, what are you doing here?”
Rachel straightened in her seat, her eyes wide. “Me? Didn’t you just text—”
Before she could finish, the door to the office opened, and Andi’s head snapped in that direction. “Carma?”
Carma pushed her strawberry blond hair off her shoulders. “Rachel? Andi? What’re you guys doing here?”
Rachel crossed her arms. “I was just about to ask you two the same question.”
Andi’s gaze drifted from one woman to the other. Was this really happening? She had a shot at her dream job and had to compete with her two best friends?
Andi tried for a smile, but the muscles in her face stiffened. “Looks like we’re all here for the same job.”
“Well, thank you, Mrs. Obvious.” Rachel patted her perfectly coiffed blond hair. “I thought you weren’t getting in until this afternoon?” She scowled, then turned her glare on Carma and lowered her voice. “And what do
you
want this
job for?”
“Wait a minute.” Andi stepped forward, her arms out. She leaned toward Rachel, and whispered, “You knew about this opportunity and didn’t tell me? For how long?”
Both women glanced away. Rachel examined her nails, picking at a cuticle. “A few days. What’s it matter, anyway?”
“Uh, maybe because I’ve read every single Ford Delaney book five times over. Or because he’s my idol,” she hissed. “Or maybe the fact that I’m a creative writing major, hoping to be an author someday. Or because I dream to have even a margin of his success, and his connections could very well be the thing to launch my career? Or simply because you’re supposed to be my best friend. How about that?”
Rachel shifted in her seat. “Well, maybe I need this job, too. Just because my reasons aren’t the same as yours doesn’t mean they aren’t important.”
“Why in the world would you need
this
job?” Forgetting herself, Andi raised her voice. “You don’t even want to work, you want—”
“I have a guess or two.” Carma plopped herself in a leather chair across from Rachel.
“Shhhh,” Rachel hissed. Glancing behind her at the assistant, she added, “Do you want Kathy Bates to come back?”
Andi turned when the large door in front of them opened. The only thing visible inside was the expansive view of Lake Erie. “Miss Rachel Beaumont,” a gravelly voice called out.
Andi sucked in a sharp breath, the conflict with her friends lost momentarily in the swirling thoughts of the face behind that voice. The one that stared back at her from the back cover of all her favorite books.
Oh my God. That’s him.
Rachel brushed by her. “See you kids later. Wish me luck.” She winked and wiggled her fingers in a wave, then disappeared inside.
Beside her, Carma sighed. “She’s so irritating sometimes.”
Remembering herself, Andi dropped into the chair next to her.
“I need you to either flop this interview or leave,” Carma said, grabbing Andi’s arm. “Whatever you need to do.”
“What? Why?” Andi narrowed her eyes. “First of all, I’m not the only one interviewing. Obviously.” She nodded toward where Rachel just disappeared.
Carma’s eyes darkened. “That’s true, but you’re perfect for this job. You’re going to school to be a writer. You have the ambition. We both know there’s this
thing
about you. Ask Rachel—she’ll tell you. You’ll get it. I know it. You always get everything you set your sights on. Plus, I heard they only let in a dozen to interview. Apparently, the warden over there really narrowed us down,” she said, eyeing the assistant who sat at her desk across the room, squinting into a compact mirror and picking her teeth.
Andi grimaced and turned her attention back to Carma. “So you want me to bail out?” She shook her head, trying to understand. “You know I can’t do that. I understand how badly you want to get out of Callaway Cove. And I know how hard you’ve tried the last couple years, but I just can’t pass up this opportunity. You want a ticket out of town to get away from your stepfather. This
is my
dream
.”
Tears formed in Carma’s eyes. Andi couldn’t believe she was getting this emotional over a job. It made no sense.
“It’s more than that. It’s…” Carma sniffed. “Forget it.” She broke off and went silent.
They sat across from each other for the next fifteen minutes, looking at everything but each other, until the sound of the door closing and the click of Rachel’s heels signaled her approach.
“Miss Andi Callaway?” the same gruff voice inside the office called out.
Andi stood and glanced back at Carma, taking in her pleading eyes, still moist from unshed tears. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”