Finding Mr. Write (Business of Love #5) - Ali Parker Page 0,10
grinned like the devil as he met me in front of his car, clapped my shoulder, and pulled me into his side.
“How did the tropics treat you?” he asked, thumping me in the chest with his other hand balled in a fist.
“Fairly well,” I said as he took my bag off my hands and popped the hood of the Chiron. A small compartment sat under the hood where the engine of most cars were. This car’s engine was in the back. My suitcase fit neatly in the little pocket and Walker closed the hood. I moved around to the passenger side and we both slid into the car. It smelled like leather and money. “I didn’t get as much writing done as I’d have liked but it was productive nonetheless.”
“Is Harriet going to blow her lid when she hears your word count?”
I shrugged. “She can if she wants to. I can’t help if things are moving slowly right now.”
Walker checked his mirror before pulling out into traffic. The car hummed and my ass started to get warm. I realized he had his heated seats turned on.
“I hear you, man,” Walker said. “Deadlines are a bitch. I feel that way and all I do is slap paint on a canvas. You’re writing entire books. I can’t fathom that.”
“And I can’t fathom how you paint so well for an asshat.”
Walker laughed and rested his wrist on the top of his steering wheel as traffic came to a gridlock stop leaving the airport. He’d always been easy to make laugh. I liked that about my friend. “I can’t fathom it, either. But the models keep me in line when I’m working.”
“How did you get so lucky that you make your living—a wildly prosperous living, I might add—painting naked, beautiful women all day? I chose the wrong profession.”
“I’m sure you could spend more time with beautiful naked women if the world knew you were W. Parker.” He winked.
I grunted.
“Or you can continue living as a hermit. Suit yourself. You hungry? I could go for a bite and a drink.”
I checked the time. It was twenty after five. “I could eat.”
Chapter 5
Briar
I woke up long before my alarm on Tuesday morning.
My first morning in New York City.
It was six fifteen when my eyes snapped open. I gazed up at the motel-room ceiling with a downright goofy grin on my face, stretched my arms over my head, and rolled out of bed. I showered, brushed my teeth, and got dressed in one of the better outfits I owned, a pair of black pants, black boots with silver buckles, and my wrap jacket with the wide hood. I also put on a knit scarf and a bit of makeup. Normally, I wouldn’t have bothered with the makeup, but today was an important day.
I had to find a job.
Admittedly, I would rather have spent my first day in the city exploring. I’d debated all last night if I should job hunt or wander the city today. I concluded that if I wanted to start on the right foot, I should get serious right away about finding work. Being in a big city like this meant there was more opportunity, but it also meant there was more competition.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have a long resume. Living in Waynesville hadn’t afforded me many chances to try new jobs. I’d worked as a hostess at a local restaurant, as a cashier at a small grocer, and at the coffee shop.
I knew it wasn’t much to go on but I had to get my foot in the door somewhere. All I needed was someone to take a chance on me. I could prove my worth over time. It was just that initial yes I needed.
My motel provided a continental breakfast. In the name of saving money, I decided to go check it out and see if it was something I could eat every morning until I found a place to live.
The continental breakfast was in the one conference room the motel had. The carpets were old and mustard colored, the baseboards dark brown, and the walls an off-beige. It smelled like dish soap, dust, and coffee.
There were eight round tables set up in the room for guests to sit and eat at. Not one of the plastic tablecloths covering said tables matched. The patterns were all different, and I spied a Christmas one in the far corner of the room. This business was clearly struggling financially and just making ends meet.