Short Story: The Salad Course

 

(Note: This is a draft. There may be editing mistakes, misplaced commas, and scenes that could change before the final edit.) This short story is once again set in my fiction town of Copper Creek Haven.  My writing prompt for this short story was:  A romance writer can't find her happily ever after until she meets... On a side note, my heroine is related to the heroine in my short story Humble Pie. You can read it here.  If you want to read more about my writing you can subscribe to my monthly newsletters here.  The Salad Course  By the end of the salad course tonight, the whole town of Copper Creek Haven would be abuzz with my secret. Secrets didn’t last long in my small hometown and I, Jane Reed, wanted to preserve this confidence a little longer. What would the residents say if they knew what ‘the youngest Reed girl’ had done?  Would they run me out of town on a rail? My mind conjured up all the worst-case scenarios. The knot in my stomach tightened a fraction. I stood in my bedroom surrounded by black and white photos of celebrities from Hollywood’s Golden Age on the wall and looked into the eyes of a perfectly poised and red-lipped Audrey Hepburn. What would Audrey wear to meet an editor? Most likely a little black dress she was known for. My closet was woefully short of Givenchy dresses, but sported hand-me-downs from my older sisters piled haphazardly on my bed were faded Old Navy coats and spring dresses. My yoga pants and oversized ‘I Only Kiss Cowboys’ t-shirt showed that I preferred comfort over fashion. Should I channel my alter ego? I wrote under the pen name Adelaide Caine, but deep down I was just Jane. The girl-next-door whose idea of a perfect night in was curled up under a cozy blanket watching an old movie preferably something with Cary Grant and thought ice cream should be its own food group. My eyes landed on a black garment bag stuffed at the back of the closet. The bag crinkled under my hand as I unzipped it to reveal a copper-colored tea length dress I’d worn as a bridesmaid to my sister Julia’s wedding last fall. It was the closest thing I had to designer label. If I hadn’t eaten too much ice cream the dress should still fit…fingers crossed. My rule of thumb was I had to run three miles every time I indulged in the creamy treat. An added benefit of jogging, it helped me plot out my novels. Had it only been a year since I won the Writer’s Dream contest? My life has changed so much. Winning the competition opened doors in the publishing industry. It garnered the attention of my current literary agent Caroline Rutherford as well as an editor who Caroline said was the best in the business and had a Midas touch with romance novels. The dress zipped up with ease. I breathed a sigh of relief.  Paired with black ballet flats and a jean jacket, it was my nod to Audrey. The perfect blend of relaxation and luxury. I glanced at my wristwatch. Thirty minutes early. My studio apartment was downtown and only a ten-minute walk to the restaurant, The Copper Plate, which was owned by my sister and her husband. A walk in the fresh spring air might clear my head. I arrived at the restaurant early, which was unusual for me. I blamed my nerves. I opened the door and the hostess, greeted me by name. “Hi, Jane.  Ooo you’re really dressed up. Are you meeting someone?” Her head tilted to the side as her eyebrows rose. Before I could answer her questions, my brother-in-law Caleb Bailey stepped in. I’ll seat Jane." He consulted the reservation list and quirked a bow at me. “Colman for two?” I nodded. “Right this way. “So, Jane…who’s your date?” Fantastic! Getting grilled by my brother-in-law. Could this day get any worse? I was already on edge to meet my editor in person. The third degree from Caleb only heightened my nerves. “It’s not a date,” I huffed out a breath. “It’s a meeting.” “Ok, you’re meeting a person with the last name Colman. Is there a first name?” “AJ.” “Do you know what those initials stand for? “Well, I don’t know,” The words burst out of me. “I never asked!” Calm down Jane. “Is it wise to meet someone when you don’t know their full name?” He kept his tone measured and lowered his voice after all we were in his restaurant. A waitress appeared and soundlessly put glasses of ice water on the table. She scurried away when she saw Caleb and I were in the middle of a disagreement. Smart. I wish I could scamper away. “Please, Caleb we live in Copper Creek Haven, the news will be all over the restaurant before we finish our meal.” “Jane, I overreacted. I’m sorry.” “I’ll be sure and tell Julia you held up your end of protective brother-in-law.” “I’ll go get you a couple of menus." I settled into the secluded booth with my back to the door and looked at my watch. Ten more minutes until my semblance of a secret life would be on display because everyone would wonder why I was dressed up. The second my date, er appointment. Good grief, even I'm calling it a date now. My fingers tapped on the linen tablecloth; I took a sip of the lemon water the waitress had brought earlier. Moved the copper vase filled with flowers just a fraction of an inch. The smells of garlic and seared meat made my stomach growl. Another sip of water. I examined my watch again. How had only two minutes ticked by? My hand rested on my chin, and I started to dream of a new storyline. “Adelaide Caine?” A deep voice asked interrupted my reverie. I turned and let my eyes drift up until they collided with a beard. My editor was a man?! “AJ Colman?” He looked like he had just stepped out of the pages of my story into real life with his dark hair and beard the same shade a well-baked brownies and suddenly I craved some. His glasses covered warm dark blue eyes. He stuck his hand out to me. “My name is Archer Jay, but friends and colleagues call me AJ.” A friendly smile lit up his face. “It’s nice to finally put a face with the name. I couldn’t stop babbling, “My real name is Jane Reed. Adelaide Caine is a pen name.” My hands were calmy, I slid my hand across the tablecloth before I lifted it to his. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jane.” His large hand enveloped mine in a firm handshake and he slid into the booth opposite me. “Forgive my shock. Caroline never mentioned you were…” My voice trailed off. I twirled a strand of hair around my finger. “A man,” He rolled his eyes. I nodded heat rising to my cheeks. Before I could make more of a fool of myself, Caleb appeared with menus and his spiel. His eyes flicked between AJ and me with no tact whatsoever. I could practically feel the gossip mill starting to churn its wheels. Jane Reed was on a date with a mysterious man. But who? “Thank you, Caleb.” I ground out his name and subtly jerked my head. Caleb nodded quickly and backed away like a deer caught in the headlights. I didn’t even have to look up to know he’d be telling Julia all about this later complete with every single detail. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. AJ didn’t seem fazed his grin held amusement. He was unaware he’d just been the star in my little internal drama. “So,” AJ said, shifting in his seat, leaning forward and said quietly. “I’ll be honest—I was expecting someone a little more...panache like Adelaide Caine." I tilted my head. “Why do I feel like there’s an insult in there somewhere?” “You know,” he said, eyes shone with mischief. “I expected more...mystique. Maybe a beret or a trench coat? Not this,” he said, gesturing at my bridesmaid’s dress and ballet flats. “Are you inspired by the Old Hollywood look? It’s very he paused for several seconds before adding “sophisticated.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “The mystique is usually reserved for the books, not the author. I’m simply Jane. No mystery. I like to think of myself as an open book. No pun intended.” His lips quirked. “I’ll admit, I’ve tried to picture you based on your writing. The plots, the character, but I was so far off.” He snacked his forehead. “So much for my imagination.” “Don’t worry,” I said, picked up the menu in a futile endeavor to regain my composure. “My life is far less glamorous than my books. For one, I like ice cream too much.” “Ice cream?” AJ raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious. I set the menu down. “It’s an essential part of my writing process. I think it should be its own food group don’t you agree? A short burst of laughter escaped and suddenly, it felt a little less awkward. Maybe even... comfortable? He cleared his throat and leaned into whisper like he was telling me a deep secret. “If we’re talking ice cream, we’ll need to make sure you have plenty for creativity. He sat back and crossed his arms, “What’s your favorite flavor?”