“I really didn’t want to be glad you’re here. You completely screwed that up for me.”
“Sit yourself down.” He handed her the parfaits. “I’ll get the plates. Sweet blog this morning,” he added. “Like a bonus since you posted one last night. Did you read the comments?”
“No. I wanted to get right back into the story.”
“A lot of people posted condolences about your dad. I’m not ashamed to say I teared up a couple times. Anyway, since we linked your blog to your website, and your website to the blog, got your other social media going, your followers have more than doubled.”
“Since you linked,” Breen corrected. “I’m so glad I don’t have to try to do all that.”
“You nagged me into the job.” He set the plates on the table. “Did you check your email since we got here?”
She winced. “Well, no.”
“Good thing I get copied on the New York stuff. But you need to do that more often, girl. Anyway.”
He sat, gestured for her to do the same, then angled his laptop so she could see the screen. “Got this attachment this morning. For your approval.”
He brought up an image that had Breen gasping.
Bollocks—or the artist’s version—seemed to prance across the screen in all his curly glory. His head turned toward her with his big doggy smile. BOLLOCKS’S MAGIC ADVENTURES arched in bright red over him. And below read: BY BREEN KELLY.
“Oh! Oh! Look at him! Look at you.” She turned the screen toward the dog doing his happy body wag beside her. “It looks just like him. It’s wonderful. Is it wonderful? Do I just think it’s wonderful because my name’s on it? It’s a book cover, Marco, with my name on it.”
“Wrote it, didn’t you?”
“Holy shit, I did. I love it. I just love it. Do you love it? Should I love it?”
“Take a breath. Eat some yogurt.” He nudged the laptop back so she could see it while she ate. “I think it’s fan-fucking-tastic.”
“You really do?” She scooped up some yogurt and berries. “I can’t trust myself because my eyes are just dazzled.”
“I’ve had some time with it. I’ve taught music to some kids in the age group you’re looking for here. You sure as hell taught plenty of them. First, who’s not going to fall for a dog who looks like that? It’s got plenty of happy and bright, but then they’ve got the woods here in the background, right? Like he’s happy-go-lucky heading there. What’s in them? Maybe something a little bit scary? Maybe something our hero here has to outwit?”
Nodding to himself, Marco picked up his fork, cut into his omelet. “They’re going to want to find out, right? And he shines in the story, Breen. The writing shines. And that’s going to pull the parents, the teachers right in.”
“You make it sound true.”
“That’s easy, ’cause it is. You eat now.”
“A year ago, I wouldn’t have believed any of this. But here we are, there that is.”
“They’re looking for a picture of you with Bollocks for the back cover. I’ll take some before we go over to, you know, the other place. But you’re going to do something fine with your hair, and get some makeup on.”
While he ate, he studied her pale blue sweater, dark brown trousers. “You need boots, and you can use my brown leather vest. Put on some earrings—little studs to keep it cas—and you’ll be good to go.”
“I need another hour. I focused on the adult book this morning. I need an hour on the next Bollocks adventure.”
“That’s fine. I’ve got plenty to do.”
She took her hour, then went up to deal with her hair. She considered just doing a glamour for her face, but admitted that was lazy.
When Marco came in with the vest, he nodded approval. “Hair’s good. It’s fun and easy—they wouldn’t want the fancy for a kids’ book. You need more on the eyes, girl.”
He hung the vest on the hook on the bathroom door, then picked up a brush himself. “Close ’em.”
She submitted, let him fuss with shadows and contour and liner.
“Need them to pop some for your first official author photo, right? And there you go.”
When he turned her toward the mirror, she let out a breath. “I look good.” She put on the vest he held out.
“I gotta hate it looks better on you than me. But I’ll put that away, since I think this is just the right look. Let’s go do our first photo shoot.”