“Who is this?”
A shrill of laughter follows. “I’m offended you don’t remember your ex-wife.”
Eloise. Shit.
It’s been years since I last spoke to her. Once our divorce finalized, there was no real reason to stay in contact with her. The last I heard, she had married some politician and ran an online magazine publication for women. Kudos to her, she was into all that feminist shit.
“Eloise, long time no speak.”
“Well, you’ve been busy as have I. How is Masen?”
“He’s good. Four years old already.”
“Nice,” she says, clearing her throat. “And Presley?”
I sense the bitter resentment toward Presley. After all, she is the reason why my marriage to Eloise didn’t make it past the reception.
“She’s doing well.” I cut the small talk short. “So, I assume you’re not calling to discuss my family?”
“No. Actually, I’m calling you because I have a proposition.”
I pull up at the lights, stopping at the red. “Go on.”
“You may or may not know, my company has grown over the last two years thanks to our online platforms gaining substantial followers. Our advertising revenue has tripled, and we’ll be adding a section dedicated to books written by female authors. We’re open to different genres as long as we can guest spot the author.”
Social media platforms with large followers have been our best advertising revenue. Noah, the expert in that area, has shown me trends and figures from each social media platform. There is no doubt that readers gravitate toward online versus retail.
“It sounds like quite some plan. So why do you need me?”
“Well, you run Lantern Publishing. You have key contacts I’d love to feature. Grace Harper alone has over two-hundred thousand followers on her fan pages.”
“So that’s it, you want Grace to feature?”
“I’d like her and many others. It’ll be a bi-weekly feature. What do you think?”
I pull into the driveway, turning the engine off. “Listen, it sounds great, but you need to run everything by Noah and he can see how this all fits. Pitch something to him, and if he thinks we can work with it, he’ll organize a meeting with his team.”
She squeals, girly, but very Eloise. “Thank you, Haden. We’ll chat soon.”
I hang up the phone, contemplating whether or not I should mention anything to Presley. Depending on her mood, I decide to keep it quiet until something eventuates, if anything.
The house is dark. As I make my way through the front door, leaving my suitcase in the hallway, I keep my footsteps quiet not to wake anyone. I’ve missed Masen and want to hear his voice plus see his tiny little face light up, but the exhaustion is overwhelming, and my own bed is heaven right now.
The door to our bedroom is closed. Pushing the door slowly, it begins to creak, stirring Masen who is asleep in our bed beside Presley.
Go figure, no chance of getting laid tonight.
Selfish me wants to wake her up, but she looks peaceful and probably needs the sleep after taking care of Masen for the last four days on her own.
I don’t bother retrieving my suitcase to unpack my things, showering quickly before hitting our spare room. Only last week, Presley purchased a nice bed because sleeping on the couch was becoming a regular occurrence. The second my head hits the pillow, I fall into a deep, much-needed sleep.
The weight of a body lays on top of me. It’s small and begins to giggle as I stir.
“Daddy, are you awake?”
I groan, rubbing my face. “Yeah, buddy.”
“Mommy asked if you want coffee.”