Nora looked up as Wesley entered her office. She smiled but he didn’t smile back. He merely sat her red cell phone on her desk, turned around and walked out.

With relief Nora noted that her one missed call was from Kingsley and not Søren. She called back, but only out of courtesy.

“Bonjour, ma chérie, ma belle, mon canard,” Kingsley started in on her as soon as he answered.

“King, calling me ‘your duck’ isn’t going to change the fact that I’m still busy.”

“Too busy for a 10K evening with a dear friend of yours?”

“Tell him it’s 20K or the waiting list.”

“The waiting list then.”

“We are in a recession after all. Just tell him to tell his wife how much he’s paid me in the last year. That should earn him enough of an ass-kicking to last him until I’m done with the book.”

“I’ll pass your well-wishes along to the happy couple.”

Nora hung up on Kingsley and left her office. She followed the thrumming of a guitar to Wesley’s room.

“That’s pretty. What it is?” she asked.

“The Killers.” Wesley stopped playing the song and adjusted his capo. “Ever heard of them?”

“If they came after Pearl Jam’s Ten then probably not.”

He looked at her and laughed a little.

“A little after. You going out tonight?”

“Nope. I hung up on King. And in three weeks if Zach signs my contract I will put on my best pair of stilettos and slam my heel through my hotline once and for all.”

Wesley smiled and started picking out a melody. Nora started to leave.

“What if he doesn’t sign it?” Wesley asked.

Nora considered the terrifying possibility that after reading the finished novel, Zach would still think it wasn’t Royal House material.

“I guess the hotline will have to stay hot a little while longer.”

Nora watched Wesley’s face.

“I like Zach,” he said. “I didn’t at first, but I do now. He’s a really good guy.”

She cocked her head and looked at him.

“I agree. Wholeheartedly.”

“I think you should tell him, you know, about the other job.”

Nora’s stomach tightened.

“I will. I promise I will. But not yet. I want him to read the book with clear eyes. If I tell him what I do he’ll think I’m just writing a knock-off memoir with the names changed instead of real fiction. If and when he signs the contract, then I’ll tell him,” she promised.

Nora left Wesley in his room and headed to the kitchen. She only made it as far as the living room when she heard a knock on her door. She glanced at the clock. Who would be stopping by her house at almost eight o’clock at night?