Was it Good for You Too? (4 page)

Good Lord. He actually moseyed! Like an urban cowboy.

Then the man had the audacity to flash Pam a head nod as he passed by. Tailan looked on, breathless and horny—not exactly in that order.

Her fingers flew across the keys, taking her to Pam's blog.

Don't look at the bed. Don't look at the bed.

She looked. The dreams she'd had all stemmed from that kiss.

Delvin was all over her—holding her, kissing her, tasting her.
Her fingers scrolled down Pam's blog as she fought her minds' efforts to conjure the last vestiges of that tumultuous dream.

Too late. The image slithered to the forefront—Delvin gliding up her trembling, aching body. His knee spreading her thighs, his back straining. His mouth swallowing hers as his hips slammed home in a raw passion that stung her eyes with joyous tears.

She tried to catch a breath as she read:

Day 1 - Well people, it's 5:52 a.m., and I'm up early because we board the bus at 8:30 to get to the Woodland in Fort Wayne today, then to Elkhart, South Bend, and Michigan City. But I have to fill you in on yesterday …

This Soul Express tour is total class, and the Nelson Entertainment people and Woodland employees treat us like royalty. This is a marriage made in literary heaven. And I'm down for the long program—with or without a prenup!

Tailan burst out laughing. “This is so like Pam.”

The Woodland managers were amazed at the number of people waiting for us to arrive. Some people admitted that they skipped work to be there. How cool is that? I sold every single copy of my book
—Looking for D*ck in All the Wrong Places—
then went on to promote some of my tablemates
.

I'll tell you that two people on the tour didn't need any help at all: Brenda Jaxon and Beverly Jenkins. With more than one-hundred-fifty books penned between them, they sold out faster than a hooker can name her price and services. Christian fiction authors were racking up too. I have to tell you though, I read a few pages of that stuff, and if those are Christians they're writing about, then Satan never had truer followers. But hey, maybe that's just me.

The two street lit authors weren't short-stopping either. One fan wheeled in a buggy with two copies of everything they had in print—even the self-published versions. So to folks who say that street lit is only a passing fad, you'd better ask somebody.

The authors get along pretty well (well, most of us), and the sense of humor—one-liners and witty comebacks—on this trip is off the meter. (Hey, we are wordsmiths, right?) One diva on the bus (who shall remain nameless), has three new friends hanging with her. So she's clowning right about now. But I have a feeling that someone's going to turn her meter to “bitch” before this is over. Stay tuned, because then I'll start kicking ass and taking names.

Tailan could picture Pam and The Divas going head to head. Her money was on Pam. She scrolled down a little more.

By the way, J. L. gets teased because he's the youngest one on the bus. (Have your tweens and teens check out J. L.'s blog—it'll be the PG version of the story. I promise!)

“Good Job, Pam. Way to promote the little guy,” Tailan cheered, then she frowned when she saw the next few sentences.

Since they've added Delvin Germaine to the tour, things have gotten a little interesting. Can you say mouth-watering, drop-dead gorgeous, and drop your drawers so you can sell ‘em on Sunday? Hello!!! And I think he has a thing for one of the women on the bus. Will he act on it? Will she??? Hmmmmm. Stay tuned, people. It's getting hot with a capital H-O-T.

I have to go. Breakfast is calling. And this plus-sized diva is not one for missing a meal. Ciao!

Tailan chuckled. She was absolutely loving Pam's straight-from-the-hip style of writing. Pam was the epitome of the three H's—Honest, Heart, and Hustle. Tailan got a full blast of all three in a first meeting at a signing event hosted by Nelson a few years ago.

Pam worked the convention like nothing Tailan had ever seen. Even Fran Rae, a
New York Times
bestselling author, noticed. She leaned over to Tailan and whispered, “We could learn a thing or two from that woman.”

Fran saw it just as Tailan had. Pam smiled at everyone, making a point to have a stack of books in one hand while she talked shop. The result was a fistful of cash in the other. “Marketing dynamo” did not come close to describing the magic the woman was making at the signing.

Tailan made her way to Pam's tiny area and said, “I can't do much for you right now, but if you ever get picked up by a major publishing house, I'll have your back.”

To prove she was serious, Tailan bought several copies of Pam's book that day with an American Express Traveler's Cheque.

When Pam arrived at the Indiana hotel for the tour briefing yesterday, she had placed a copy of that seven-year-old check in Tailan's hand. “Thanks for keeping your promise to me by bringing me on the tour.” She embraced Tailan in a heart-stopping hug that brought tears to Tailan's eyes.

Authors like Pam were why Tailan was inspired to buck a system that mostly catered to well-known authors instead of building the midlist ones into national and
New York Times
bestsellers.

She closed her laptop and found the courage to walk to her bed and get dressed. Still leery of even sitting on it for fear that those graphic dreams would pay another visit, Tailan grabbed her shoes and rushed to the bathroom.

Just before she entered, her cell phone chirped. She ran back to the nightstand, glanced at the caller ID and cringed.

“What's cooking?” Tailan said with rehearsed enthusiasm.

David had conveniently disappeared at several points yesterday, making it impossible for her to grill him like she had planned.

“Nice to hear you so chipper this morning,” he said blandly.

So, you were expecting me to rip you out a new one? That explains your ghost act yesterday
.

“I'm chipper
every
morning,” she shot back. “Especially since we're doing exactly what you and Margo swore up and down the company would never, ever,
ever
do—a tour with mostly debut authors.”

“Tai, even a broken clock is right twice a day.” His tone was pure annoyance.

David was still hot about Tailan going over his head and directly to the publishers and Woodland executives. She refused to apologize for her tactics. David's way of doing things always ended with the same results. “Next year.” He had chanted that mantra for five whole years!

Now the odds were stacked against Tailan, and she had a point to prove. The point—great authors come in every color. Mid-tier authors are talented, and many can achieve the status of National and
New York Times
bestselling author if they are given the help and guidance they need to succeed.

“So, you're calling me this early in the morning because …?”

“First, I know you're upset about what I did.”

“You think?” She took a seat on the edge of the bed and slipped on her shoes. “How could you do that to me?! You
know
I can't be distracted right now. Not with him. Not with anybody or anything.”

“You needed something to snap you out of this … I don't even know what to call it.” He let out an exaggerated sigh.

Tailan closed her eyes and tried to rein in her nerves and irritation. “You can't keep throwing me for a loop like this. I have everything riding on this tour,” she snapped.

“So do I, dammit!” David gave it right back.

Tailan shot off the bed and began pacing the room. She sensed her boss was working overtime to calm down too.

David tried again with a softer tone. “I might not have said this before, but the way you drive yourself, the way you go headfirst into things, is dangerous. It's like you're trying to fill yourself up so you won't have time to think. I'm worried about you, Tailan. And I think if you can lay this Delvin Germaine issue to rest one way or another, you can be back to your old self again.”

David had never sounded so sad. Tailan froze mid-step. “I didn't know you cared.”

“Oh, I care, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a scratchy whisper. “I learned a painful lesson with my daughter about the power of love. I lost her because I wouldn't listen. But even worse, because I refused to see.” He paused before adding, “I forbade her to marry the man she loved and she … she committed suicide.”

Tailan gasped; her emotions were like a rickety staircase at the moment. She suspected something tragic about the sudden death of David's youngest daughter, but he had never shared the details with anyone. Tailan had never pressed the issue.

“You're doing the same thing, Tailan. Just much more slowly,” he said. “It hurts to watch. And I'm not going to lose you without a fight.”

“Why now, David? Why did you have to get Delvin?” She collected a tissue and dried her eyes.

“Because I know you weren't able to get the celebrities you wanted for this tour.”

Truthfully, as hard of a time as she had with all those other A-list celebrities, she couldn't believe this good fortune. Another thought hit her, and she blurted, “Did you tell him that I'd be here?”

“Yes.” David's voice rippled with a low throaty chuckle. “When he learned that coming here would help you, he took the first flight out to make it here on time. No appearance fee, no over-the-top demands.”

Tailan closed her eyes to still the rush of emotion that washed over her. What David had done was sweet—then again, he was a hopeless romantic who had been married for like … a kajillion years. But he didn't know that she had lost much more than Delvin ever had when he walked away. Now she had secrets of her own, and Delvin's presence was making those secrets even harder to manage.

Rather than dredge up too many intense emotions that centered on Delvin, Tailan redirected, “I won't let this tour fail. Delvin Germaine is an added bonus, but my focus is on the breakout authors on this tour—Pam and all eleven members of M-LAS. I'll do my best to bring in the sales figures I predicted to Thomas.”

“Well, I also called to inform you that Margo just added a ripple in the pond.”

Margo, you are becoming the bane of my existence
. “How?”

“She called the publishers and—thanks to her—they've changed the criteria they'll use to determine if this tour successful.”

Tailan's lungs dropped into her stomach, taking every ounce of air with them.

“Now it's about more than just bringing in a certain number of sales,” David continued. “Five of the unknown authors must hit the national bestsellers list.”

“Seriously?” she shouted, then took a breath and lowered her tone. “I'll do my best.”

“Oh, you'd better do more than that,” he shot back, his voice devoid of his usual warmth. “Margo's little stunt now has
my
ass on the line too. While I'm pushing for you to get
her
job, she's trying to get her father to push you
and
me
out the door. And if you don't succeed, we're both gone—no demotion, no second chances.” He let that sink in a bit before adding, “After a termination like that, no other distributor, retailer, or publishing house will touch us.”

Tailan's equilibrium shifted, and she noodled down on the bed. The walls weren't just closing in, they were doing a tango along the path to her demise.

“What have I done that always brings out the bitch in her?” Her eyes blinked as she realized the words slipped past the filter she normally used with him.

“It's what you
haven't
done for her,” David countered smoothly. “And trust me, I don't blame you one bit.”

They ended the call, and Tailan tossed the phone over her right shoulder.

Talk about jumping out of the frying pan and straight into Satan's swimming pool.

Chapter 5

Tailan would make this tour work if it killed her! Or if she had to kill The Divas and hide their bodies under the bus. Now
that
would be worth going to jail for.

When she turned the corner leading to the lobby, she crashed into the middle of a broad chest. A strong pair of hands reached out to hold her steady. She looked up and into dark brown eyes that were so intense, she instantly took a step back.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Delvin took the handle of her bag. “Here, let me help you.”

She quickly snatched it from his grasp. “I've got it.”

His lips stretched into a lazy smile, his gaze meeting hers fully. Delvin gripped the handle, forcing her to release her hold. “Tai, we're not going to play these games.”

“No one's playing anything,” she snapped, grabbing for the case again. “I can manage on my own—just like I've done for the past seven years.”

“Damn,” he said, shuddering in mock horror. “The woman's going for the nuts again.”

The man didn't let her take another step. Delvin pinned her to the wall and scanned her face. A sensual softness flooded his features that caused her to melt. Focused, absorbed, and intense, he studied her like a priceless piece of artwork.

Delvin brushed a kiss across her cheeks in a caress so gentle, she couldn't pull back the sigh quick enough. His tongue cleverly joined the foreplay, lusciously exploring her, tasting her, teasing her to the point she instinctively curved into his long frame and wrapped her arms around his neck. He pressed her harder into the wall and devoured, not stopping even when her bag clattered to the floor.

When they finally pulled apart, the world swam in and out of focus.

Tailan didn't know if she should be angry with him for his boldness or with herself for allowing him liberties that were no longer his to take.

Delvin laced his hands in hers, holding her glassy stare. “I'm here for you in whatever way you need me to be,” he whispered. “I messed up. I know that. I heard what I wanted to hear and not what you meant.” Delvin planted a kiss on her temple. “But I'm here now. Forgive me enough to at least let me help you, Tai.”