Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
My father stared at me for a moment before he leaned forward. “Harlee, I’m about to give you some of that bullshit parental advice I said I’d never dole out.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that.
“Sometimes the things we wish for end up hurting us the most.”
With my smile fading, I asked, “What do you mean?”
“You’re going to have to figure that out on your own.”
Frowning, I replied, “Dad, it isn’t really advice if you don’t actually tell me something I can understand.”
He sighed. “That’s the best I’ve got. Now, I loved the idea of Braxton replying back to Ms. Seaside. It’s going to drive the women crazy—in a good way—and drive up readership even more.”
“But we’ve never published anyone’s responses before, and now we’ll have to.”
An evil grin appeared on his face. “No, we won’t. You see, that’s why I offered Braxton a job.”
A sudden feeling of dread swept through me, and I felt my hand cover my mouth of its own accord. I closed my eyes and prayed I was dreaming.
“He’s going to be writing a column called ‘Friday’s Catch.’ I came up with that title. Pretty good, if I do say so myself.”
I blinked a few times, then put my fingers into my ears, wiggled them around, shook my head, and looked at my father. With a disbelieving laugh, I asked, “I’m sorry, he’s going to what?”
“Harlee, it’s going to be amazing. Within fifteen minutes of the digital paper going live, we had more than a hundred people commenting. They loved it! To be precise, they loved that the—” he raised his hands and made air quotes—“‘Catch of the Season’ wrote back in response to your column.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. I knew it was good for the paper to get that kind of attention, and the business side of me completely understood why my father offered him the job. But the other side of me was in panic mode.
“Dad, with Braxton working here and coming and going, it puts my identity at risk.”
He waved me off. “Nonsense, Harlee. How many people work at this paper? And not one of them knows you’re Ms. Seaside.”
Ugh. He had me on that one.
“Harlee, I really think this is going to be a hit with the readers. Take a look at some of the comments, and you’ll see. After all, the gossip column was your idea to increase readership, and look how well it’s done. Before Ms. Seaside, our print edition was nearly nonexistent. And now, nearly every resident in Seaside has a paper delivered to their door.”
I let out a long exhale. “I know you’re right. But…do I get to approve his column?”
My father stared at me for half a beat—then started to laugh. Hard. “Oh no! If I left it up to you, his column would fail in the first couple of weeks.”
Damn it. He had me on that one too.
I stood. “Fine. We’ll see how this little…Friday’s Catch thing goes.” I headed for the door.
“Harlee?”
“Yeah?” I asked as I glanced over my shoulder.
“I love tomorrow’s column.”
Smiling, I said, “I learned from the best.”
He tipped his head. “That you did.”
Brax
I sat on Harlee’s sofa and looked down at the board she had on her coffee table. There were names and pictures pinned to the surface. Someone on the left side, someone on the right. Smack in the middle was Kelsey Roberts.
Trying not to smile, I studied the board. I knew exactly what the little brat was up to. She was trying to distract me with Kelsey. But it wouldn’t work, and I know I would make her regret throwing Kelsey into the mix.
“How long did it take you to come up with this, Harlee?”
She looked down at the board like a proud mother watching her kid score the winning goal. “Not long. It looks good, doesn’t it?”
I grinned at her. “You’re into scrapbooking, aren’t you? Is that how you spend your Friday nights?”
She shot me a dirty look. “I only agreed to do this because I want to know who she is as well.”
Little liar.
“But if you’re going to keep insulting me, Brax, I’m out. You can figure this out on your own.”
Holding up my hands, I laughed. “I’m sorry. It’s just so easy to piss you off.”
She huffed then stood. “Did you eat dinner?”
“Not yet.”
“Want me to order a pizza?” she called out from her kitchen.
“Sounds good to me.”
She popped her head out, and I was struck once again by how beautiful she was. Even in her sweatpants and long-sleeve Seaside Chronicles shirt. Her shiny brown hair was pulled up and piled on her head, and it bounced around every time she moved. “What kind?”
“I’m good with anything.”
She gave a nod. A couple seconds later, I heard her ordering.
I wondered how long she was going to ignore what had happened between us last night at the bed and breakfast. I had to admit, I was surprised when she’s called me earlier and had asked if I wanted to come over and talk strategy on Ms. Seaside. There was no way I was going to pass up the chance to spend time with her. Even if I had been in the middle of making some repairs on one of my charter boats.