The Sound of Consequence (Puget Sound ~ Alive With Love Book 1) by Susan Ann Wall Page A
Authors: Susan Ann Wall
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the sketch of three fairies rescuing a dragon from the incoming tide. “Can you have this one to me next week? Say Wednesday.”
Stacie gripped the arms of the chair, afraid she was going to faint or levitate. Whatever anxiety or excitement she was fighting, how could she say no to this request? It was her dream. She was actually living her dream.
“Yes, next Wednesday.”
“Great. Just let me copy this and I’ll put you on my schedule for next Wednesday.”
Stacie floated home. She didn’t care that her feet ached in the three inch heels or that she’d forgotten to grab her sneakers out of Jenny’s office. She had her first deadline. If the acquisition team, or A-Team as CC as called it, accepted the pitch, Bay City Publishers would draw up a contract. The standard was for two or three books at a time, with right of refusal on the next book. Stacie wasn’t required to have one, but CC recommended she find a literary agent, someone who understood the legalese of a contract. When Stacie explained that her brother was a lawyer, CC smiled. “A best friend in marketing and a lawyer brother. Let me guess, your father’s a tax accountant.”
No, Stacie’s father was manager at a shoe store. But she did appear to have some pretty good professional contacts in her very small circle.
Stacie spent the rest of the morning actually painting. Sitting on the balcony, she conjured up what she could remember of the scenery she’d taken in on the ferry. The buildings that occupied southern downtown, or SoDo as she’d learned the locals called it, prevented her from having a view of Elliot Bay from the fifth floor balcony. The memories were fresh enough in her mind, though, that she produced something worthy of a canvas. This painting wouldn’t actually be a product in her books, but she was dusting off her talent, so to speak. She hadn’t painted in years and knew better than to think her first attempt would produce an illustration worthy of going to the A-Team.
By late afternoon, her hand began to cramp, which was all the excuse she needed to put the paint away and spend the evening in the bed of her sexy neighbor. Stacie stood in her walk-in closet trying to decide between black jeans or blue jeans and tank top or tee shirt. Did it really matter what she wore? He’d seen her in jeans and a sweatshirt this morning and there was no mistaking the erection he pressed against her. So she didn’t need to impress him. Stacie could not, however, convince herself not to obsess over an outfit, so she raided Jenny’s closet.
It was ridiculous, really, since her plan involved clothes being dropped to the floor as soon as they entered his condo. No point ironing for that event, but iron she did.
Settling on a blue wraparound skirt and a white lace shirt with a plunging neckline, Stacie decided her own new wardrobe was in order. She wasn’t a school teacher anymore and Greg wasn’t around to dictate what was appropriate for her to wear. It was time to dress a little sexier.
Blue open-toed sandals with two-inch heels from her own closet matched the outfit. She touched up her make-up, then grabbed her shoulder bag and headed out the door.
Because of the sandals, it took Stacie almost twice as long to walk to the ferry as it had that morning. Anxious to see Owen, she had given herself plenty of time and the sun was still high in the sky, so she tried to enjoy a leisurely stroll through the city on a warm April evening. When she arrived at the terminal, passengers from Bremerton were disembarking the ferry.
Anxious to get on board, Stacie waited without a lot of patience for the long parade of evening commuters to make their exit. Within minutes, the boarders started moving onto the ferry. After getting comfortable at the front of the boat, she was still more anxious then she wanted to be.
The ferry ride across the sound took an hour. That was enough time for doubt and second thoughts to hit her as hard as the crossing wind.
Stacie gripped the arms of the chair, afraid she was going to faint or levitate. Whatever anxiety or excitement she was fighting, how could she say no to this request? It was her dream. She was actually living her dream.
“Yes, next Wednesday.”
“Great. Just let me copy this and I’ll put you on my schedule for next Wednesday.”
Stacie floated home. She didn’t care that her feet ached in the three inch heels or that she’d forgotten to grab her sneakers out of Jenny’s office. She had her first deadline. If the acquisition team, or A-Team as CC as called it, accepted the pitch, Bay City Publishers would draw up a contract. The standard was for two or three books at a time, with right of refusal on the next book. Stacie wasn’t required to have one, but CC recommended she find a literary agent, someone who understood the legalese of a contract. When Stacie explained that her brother was a lawyer, CC smiled. “A best friend in marketing and a lawyer brother. Let me guess, your father’s a tax accountant.”
No, Stacie’s father was manager at a shoe store. But she did appear to have some pretty good professional contacts in her very small circle.
Stacie spent the rest of the morning actually painting. Sitting on the balcony, she conjured up what she could remember of the scenery she’d taken in on the ferry. The buildings that occupied southern downtown, or SoDo as she’d learned the locals called it, prevented her from having a view of Elliot Bay from the fifth floor balcony. The memories were fresh enough in her mind, though, that she produced something worthy of a canvas. This painting wouldn’t actually be a product in her books, but she was dusting off her talent, so to speak. She hadn’t painted in years and knew better than to think her first attempt would produce an illustration worthy of going to the A-Team.
By late afternoon, her hand began to cramp, which was all the excuse she needed to put the paint away and spend the evening in the bed of her sexy neighbor. Stacie stood in her walk-in closet trying to decide between black jeans or blue jeans and tank top or tee shirt. Did it really matter what she wore? He’d seen her in jeans and a sweatshirt this morning and there was no mistaking the erection he pressed against her. So she didn’t need to impress him. Stacie could not, however, convince herself not to obsess over an outfit, so she raided Jenny’s closet.
It was ridiculous, really, since her plan involved clothes being dropped to the floor as soon as they entered his condo. No point ironing for that event, but iron she did.
Settling on a blue wraparound skirt and a white lace shirt with a plunging neckline, Stacie decided her own new wardrobe was in order. She wasn’t a school teacher anymore and Greg wasn’t around to dictate what was appropriate for her to wear. It was time to dress a little sexier.
Blue open-toed sandals with two-inch heels from her own closet matched the outfit. She touched up her make-up, then grabbed her shoulder bag and headed out the door.
Because of the sandals, it took Stacie almost twice as long to walk to the ferry as it had that morning. Anxious to see Owen, she had given herself plenty of time and the sun was still high in the sky, so she tried to enjoy a leisurely stroll through the city on a warm April evening. When she arrived at the terminal, passengers from Bremerton were disembarking the ferry.
Anxious to get on board, Stacie waited without a lot of patience for the long parade of evening commuters to make their exit. Within minutes, the boarders started moving onto the ferry. After getting comfortable at the front of the boat, she was still more anxious then she wanted to be.
The ferry ride across the sound took an hour. That was enough time for doubt and second thoughts to hit her as hard as the crossing wind.
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