Page 92 of Good Girls Don't Kiss and Tell (Rock Canyon, Idaho 7)

Neal laughed. “He’s pulling your leg. It’s not that bad.”

“Hey, if he doesn’t want me to read it, that’s okay. I can wait. Impatiently.”

She pinched his side playfully, and Neal wagged his finger at her. “This one’s got spunk. I like it.”

“Eric!” His editor, Vanessa Hiller stepped up and kissed him on both his cheeks. She had a blunt black bob and red lips. Other than that, she wore no makeup, and her black dress draped over one shoulder and flowed to the floor elegantly.

She pulled away and turned her focus on Gracie. Vanessa stood several inches taller and was about five years older. “And you must be Gracie. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Yeah, I am. And you are?” Gracie asked.

“Oh, I’m Vanessa, his new editor. Do you mind if I steal him away? There’re a few people I want him to meet, and then I’ll bring him right back.”

Eric didn’t like leaving Gracie alone. “She can come with us—”

“No, it’s fine.” Gracie grabbed a drink from one of the passing waiters. “This is your night. Have fun.”

Eric tried to protest, but Vanessa was already dragging him away, and soon, Gracie was lost in the crowd.

* * *

Gracie was on her third drink as she listened to the man in front of her go on and on about his nonfiction novel on the wolves of Yellowstone. Unlike Eric, the man hadn’t shaved his beard, and his long gray hair was in a braid longer than hers.

“I just think that we need to stop screwing up the world and take responsibility, you know?” the guy said.

“Right.” Gracie scanned the crowd again for Eric, but even with his height, he was nowhere in sight. The only person she recognized was Vanessa with the long legs. She caught Gracie’s eye and started through the crowd toward her.

Gracie got a bad feeling about the woman. Not that she was a mean girl, per se, but that she sensed Gracie didn’t belong. Like a shark that smelled blood in the water, she was circling.

“Gracie, I see you’ve met Hugh. Hugh, I do believe Caroline was looking for you.”

Hugh lit up and, without even saying good-bye, took off.

Vanessa smiled after him like a fond mother. “Hugh is a rather good writer, but if he corners you, the man won’t stop talking.”

“Yeah, I got that. Have you seen Eric?”

“Mmm, I think he was talking to Margo in publicity last time I saw him.”

Gracie took a long drink, finishing off her glass.

“Is it hard?” Vanessa asked.

“Pardon?”

Vanessa swirled her drink between her blood-red nails. “Is it hard knowing that soon there will be a book out there with little pieces of you in it?”

“What, you mean the Miss Know-It-All columns? I’ve read all of them, and besides, Eric said he changed all the names, so no one will know where it’s based.”

“Except—” Vanessa pointed one of her fingers at her, “—I knew who you were right off.”

Gracie flagged down another waiter, ignoring the racing of her heart. The woman was just messing with her. “And why is that?”

“The way he describes you. Short. Blonde. Beautiful.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Gracie said.

“Oh, it’s not. The book paints you in a very favorable light, for the most part. Then the ending…”