“I was hoping to meet Chase Adams, but he wasn’t there.
Which is odd. What sort of man doesn’t show up to his own party?”
Chase stilled.
The news that she had, after all, hoped to meet him resurrected all the barriers he’d briefly lowered. His first impression had been that she was nothing like the other people at the party.
Turned out he was wrong.
“Why did you want to meet Chase?” His tone was several degrees cooler, and she glanced at him.
“Are you surprised?”
“Not at all. Plenty of people want to meet Chase Adams. That was the sole objective for most of the people there tonight.”
“You disapprove?”
“You don’t seem like his type.” He saw color streak across her cheeks.
“You do disapprove. But before you freeze me to death with that look, which, by the way, is pretty intimidating, you should know that my only interest in Chase was as a means to approach his brother.”
“His brother?” He couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d stripped naked and danced in Times Square. “Why would you be interested in his brother?”
She kept her eyes straight ahead. “To tell you that, I’d have to tell you my deep, innermost secret and I’ve only known you for five minutes.”
“It has been at least ten minutes. Tell me your deep, innermost secret.”
“Do you always get your own way?”
“Always.”
“You’ll laugh at me.”
“I promise not to laugh.”
“All right, but you also have to promise not to tell a soul.”
“I promise.”
She took a deep breath. “I’m a writer.” The words tumbled out. “I mean, I’m not published exactly, yet, but I want to be and Chase’s brother owns an independent publishing house and one of his imprints is exactly right for my current story.”
Chase stopped walking. “You’ve written a book?”
“I’ve written several books, but this one is my best yet.”
She’d written a book. She’d wanted to meet him so that she could access his brother. Chase had been prepared to hear any number of reasons, but that one hadn’t been on the list.
He didn’t even realize he was laughing until he saw her glaring at him.
“You promised you wouldn’t laugh.”
“I’m not laughing at you. Just the situation.”
“There is nothing funny about pursuing a dream.”
“No.” All desire to laugh faded. Once, he’d pursued a dream, but it had been eclipsed by reality and he’d let it die. “So why don’t you just email it to them?”
“They don’t look at unagented submissions, but I know without a doubt that my story is right for them. I desperately want them to read it.”