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Aspiring Novelist Pt. 01

By: egmontgrigor2010



Casper and Janice Summers tried to do everything down the middle with Jonas and Billie, their blue-eyed blonde twins, to avoid having a favorite or at least showing favoritism and that policy lasted till college time.

The Summer's ranch had been hit by drought two years in a row. As a consequence for the first time in eighteen years of the twins' life, Casper and Janice, up to their knees in debt, were forced to face a really unfair decision affecting the twins: the bank loan felt them with enough spare money to start one of the kids at college.

The family debated the issue for almost two hours before Billie's persuasion won the day. She argued Jonas wanted to be an engineer and so must go to college whereas she could develop her interest in writing based on what she already knew. Her mom had cried and her father choked and said she was a very brave young lady. Jonas kissed her and said thanks doll and went off to work on the motor of the ranch's ailing pickup.

Two days later under the hot South Texas sun and to an emotional family farewell, Billie boarded a bus for the train station to head for Philadelphia to stay with Aunt Susan, her mom's sister. Uncle Colin had promised to find her a good paying job.

Secretly Billie had thought of something else. 

She progressed as far as Forth Worth where she disembarked and took a room in a seedy hotel and went on to the street. Billie's idea was to work as a prostitute and earn big money to save the ranch.

Billie was six foot one and still very lean, her breasts and hips only just beginning to fill out into curves and her simple dress was certainly not sexy. The men eyed her and either grinned or scowled. None made an offer or even suggested a freebie.

Billie wondered perhaps she needed to clean her teeth to appeal? 

She's noticed a woman eyeing her from across the street. Well thought Billie, if she couldn't nail guys perhaps she might have to switch to take on loitering women.

Three more attempts to accost passing men failed and Billie found that woman from across the street right in her face and holding up ID. Billie winced. The woman was an undercover cop.

"Am I booked?"

The cop looked cross. "That depends. I have a daughter your age and feel like kicking your ass in despair. God you young kids have it all but can't accept that."

Billie figured the cop didn't intend to pay for the privilege of kicking ass.

The cop asked, "Do you have money?"

"Yes seventy bucks."

"And that's all?"

Billie regarded it as a lot of money, the most she'd ever possessed. "And a train ticket."

"Where are you heading?"

"Philadelphia."

The woman's eyes lit up and said, "That gets you a long ways from here. Come on, let's get your things and I'll lecture you at the train station. I'm Policewoman Sarah Lynch but you may call me Sarah."

Billie burst into tears and said she was only trying to save the ranch. 

The cop giggled and said that was such a novel explanation that on a good day even the judge might buy it.

Over light food and coffee paid for by the cop and a lecture about Billie doing everything to make something out of her life without having to stoop to sell her body for sex, the cop looked rather startled when Billie kissed her before boarding the northbound train.

"Sarah thank you for giving me a break, I shall always remember you and wish you a happy life.

"Billie, you have the heart of an angle. Please, please get yourself back on track. I wish I'd been your mother."

Billie climbed aboard scarcely believing a cop had said that to her. Jeeze, what was happening to the cops these days turning to jelly like that?

Sarah was still waiting as the train pulled out. She saw Billie and blew her a kiss. Billie's heart melted. She couldn't believe that someone other than her mother cared for her like that. It made her think.

Forty-eight mind-numbing hours later she arrive at 30th Street Station. She'd called through on a pay phone and Aunt Susan came for her.

Billie staggered into her Aunt's arms and asked, "What day is it?"

"Darling," Susan cooed, "You need sleep, lots of it. OMG you are about to grow into a real honey."

"And ugly duckling more like it."

Susan gave her one of those far-way smiles Billie's mother often gave her that drove her to despair because they were undecipherable.

"W-what do you mean?" Billie yawned.

Her aunt answered in exactly the same manner of her mother: "Just be patient dear. In time all will be revealed."

God that's what their mother must have said to them. Although frustrated Billie was too tired to punch the side of her seat in the SUV.

The men arrived together, Colin picking up Stewart from university on the way home.

"Where's the kid from Texas?" Stewart yawned.

His mom frowned. "Your cousin is now a young woman, very beautiful and I don't want you attempting to get into her pants."

Son and father looked at one another and grinned.

"Mom you know I only focus on sexy women."

Susan looked less than convinced.

"What?"

"Just behave yourself when alone with your cousin Stewart, that's all I ask."

Stewart looked at his mom puzzled but she offered no elaboration.

After the men washed up the family had a drink and then began dinner.

They were on to mains when the door to the passage from the bedrooms opened and a blonde babe in an almost hip-high nightdress with a small boob with a normal size nipple hanging out entered. Rubbing her eyes she asked, "What day is it?"

Father and son gawked and Susan rushed to her niece, stowed the breast and said, "Remain calm darling, it's dinner time."

"Oh."

"This is your uncle Colin so you'll remember him."

"Um yes, he looks more virile than I remember."

For a moment Susan almost lost it, probably wondering what was behind that comment.

"Hi cousin Billie. As you know I'm Stewart. It's five years since we last met."

"Four years and mom said to be aware of you because you are addicted to sex according to Aunt Susan."

The family looked at their guest as if their innermost secret had been exposed.

"Darling would you like a salad and a piece of salmon fillet?" 

"That sounds beautiful thank you Aunt Susan."

Cousin Stewart was a bit over-weight but had masses of dark curly hair and a winning smile, so looked great. However Billie knew she faced a menace in this house and it went by the name of Stewart. Whenever she looked up she found his dark, brooding eyes on her and knew he was not unlike a randy bull on the ranch that in time would crash over a fence and trot off looking for heifers. She knew the answer: deal with Stewart. The problem was if he complained to his parents she was done for in this supposedly safe house but then the alternative was far worse.

After dinner Billie yawned and excused herself, saying she needed more sleep. It was 8:30. She awoke seven hours later and crept off to deal with her cousin.

* * *

College senior Stewart West had listened without much interest when his mom announced her niece Billie from Texas would be coming to live with them. She'd said Billie would need a job and his father, an attorney, said he could fix that. Stewart remembered Billie as a gangly kid who asked stupid questions but that didn't bother him. As long as she kept her nose out of his life he couldn't care less where she lived.

When Billie appeared for dinner, looking half-asleep and disoriented, Stewart grinned at finding the kid had grown tits, with one hanging out. Christ she was a couple of inches taller than him, and blonde and good looking. With a little bit more meat over her bones she would be one lucky babe. He wondered if she fucked and thought being eighteen she probably did... there would not be much else to do in Texas being so far away from everything.

At the table he noticed his mom looking at him, worried like. For heaven's sake he's seen more tits than she ever would. Ah she would be thinking he would be out to nail Miss Texas. Well that was an interesting challenge. His mom would be unable to shield the kid from him 24/7. 

In the kitchen he played 'good boy' and dried the dishes not suitable to be put through the machine. He did that only because if he didn't he was under threat to do a few chores around the house or go and find somewhere else to live. Stewart expected a lecture and got it.

"Stewart I've been waiting for the right moment to say something to you."

"And this is it?"

"What is?"

"This is the right moment for you mom?"

Susan frowned. "Would you please not interrupt; this is a very serious matter."

"You want to tell me to wear a condom when I have sex with Billie?"

Stewart caught the glass pot lid as it fell from his mom's hand. She didn't say thank you. She just glared at him and told him to take care with the lid from a matching set of pots.

She placed both hands on her hips and told him straight. "Stewart West, you dare touch that sweet girl and you'll answer to me."

"Okay mom, I hear you. Calm down. Just remember I won't be responsible for my actions if she decides to have a piece of me. But what about dad?"

"What about your father?"

"Will he get a similar warning?"

Stewart grinned at the shocked look from his mother. "D-do you think...?"

"Probably not unless he sees her bent over and showing ass cheek."

His mom sat down at the kitchen table and looked so pale Stewart decided it best not to joke that his dad wouldn't be interested because he was being kept more than busy working through the women at the office and his female clients who included some of her friends and their daughters. He heard his mom sigh, "Oh god what have I done?" 

Stewart was glad to see a bit of color back in her cheeks.

"Um mom don't be confrontational over this with dad. I suggest you just say to him you expect him to keep Billie safe while she's staying with us. He'll think you mean keep Billie safe from me but will wonder if you were delivering a veiled message to him as well. That should make think he must not let his eyes wander in Billie's direction."

Susan smiled and said, "Brilliant darling, you are such a clever young man. Thank you."

If Susan was thinking she'd not received much of an assurance from her son about not messing with the guest she didn't signal it. Later that evening Stewart stroked his dick in the shower thinking of being the first person in Philly to nail the filly from Texas.

In the morning Stewart awoke and smiled as he reached to shake hands with his erection.

"What the...?" 

Stewart had noticed something odd on the pillow between his face and his alarm clock that was set to ring in about fifteen minutes. It was his late grandmother's jam spoon from the kitchen with a note tied to it.

He undid the bow and read the message. 

'Dear Cousin Stewart: If you dare touch me sexually then the following morning you'll wake up to find this jam spoon has turned into a carving knife and it will be stuck into your abdomen just above your penis. Don't take this for an empty threat. Texan mothers breed tough daughters. Have a great day with your studies. Love from sweet Billie.'

"Jesus," said Stewart, feeling the blood drain from his face. He also became aware his erection had collapsed.

Not wishing to face the young bitch, Stewart dressed and raced out to the kitchen and kissed his surprised mom goodbye, saying he was off to an early session on the track at college.

"Are you okay darling, you look rather pale?"

"Yeah, yeah. Perhaps it's your cooking?"

"Stewart," said his mom sternly but her son was already heading out the door.

Later that morning Susan took the house phone to Billie who was in the sunroom reading the morning newspaper. "It's a local call from a female called Carol Sweetman."

Billie returned the phone to the kitchen and smiling answered Susan's enquiring look.

"Carol is the younger sister of one of Stewart's girlfriends. He called her and suggested I would be short of friends, having just arrived in the city. Carol said she and a bunch of her friends would be off to various colleges during the next two to three weeks and were hanging out a lot with the countdown to separation looming fast. They are lunching today at Penn's Landing and she's invited me and will call for me around noon."

"Oh that's lovely dear. I'm surprised Stewart has organized that for you?"

"You have raised a lovely young man, Aunt Susan. You should be very proud of him."

"Ah yes, thanks," Susan said weakly.

Billie arrived with Carol and another girl called Eva just after 4:00 and Susan was delighted to see her niece looking flushed and excited. Carol was a surprise, looking nothing like her sister who acted so much like a slut. The girls had a cool drink and Susan joined them with her coffee. She found that Carol and Eva were both going to Penn to do an English major with creative writing as an option.

Eva said, "It's such a shame Mrs West that Billie's parents have been boxed into a corner by devastating drought. She could have come to university with us. She's already won literary prizes."

"Yes it's very sad," Susan said.

The mention of winning awards had set her mind ticking. That evening Susan had a long discussion with Colin over Billie's educational plight. He promised to see what he could do, agreeing they had a duty to intervene.

When Colin arrived home from work next day a bewildered Billie learned of attempts to get her enrolled into the University of Pennsylvania, a move that she'd later come to call 'the miracle'. The move depended on Billie meeting several admission criteria for late enrolment as well as the university having a place available. Billie was also advised the university admitted only a small percentage of both regular and late applicants. Fortunately she had her academic records with her, assuming that information would be required when she applied for jobs.

"B-but the money?" she worried.

"Your mother went to Penn as did our father and later in life he was a noted contributor to the university," said Susan. "You were out with Carol and Eva when Colin called you for information so I reminded him of you mother and my father's association. Possibly you'll receive financial support from the university."

"Susan and I will contribute either the shortfall or everything required to get you educated," Colin said. "My brother Michael manages a branch of a consumer research organization and says he can find work for you with the team doing phone polling early evenings and on Saturday."

"This is so unbelievable," cried Billie, rushing in to hug them both. "I'll repay you, I'll repay you," she sobbed. "Regard it as a loan."

"Hey whoa young lady, we first have to get your application accepted."

"You and I will go to King of Prussia (mall) in the morning to get you a new outfit for when you have to front up before the late enrolment committee," Susan smiled, patting her niece's back.

Billie then said she was off to call Carol and Eva.

"We must get you a cell phone," Colin said.

Billie returned twenty minutes later very flushed. "Both girls yelled and screamed and I tried to caution them it will be touch and go and they both said freshman drop out at the last minute for numerous reasons and Eva said her father would help but didn't say how."

"What's Eva's surname?" Colin asked and when told Hutchinson he grinned and said if he was Phil Hutchinson he would have considerable influence.

"How?" Susan asked.

"He's an attorney and is involved in governance at the university. Every little bit counts."

Colin arranged temporary work for Billie at the very large law firm in which he was a partner and she remained there until she began her studies at Penn. By that time she and Stewart had become close friends, and nothing more than that.

Billie called her mom twice a week and learned they had received some rain, but not enough she'd complained. However the tone in her voice suggested to Billie her mom was under less strain. Her father had taken a temporary job as a lineman to provide them with income and she was told the cattle seemed to be doing a little better. 

At this point Billie was not particularly sexually experienced and had never experienced weird sex but that was to change. Anthony the supervisor in charge of the pollster phone calling team where she'd started after-hours work decided when members of the early evening team were required for work and how often.

He said to Billie, "The boss has instructed me to provide you work whenever you want it."

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

"It's not fair on others available to work the early evening shift."

Billie saw the smile lurking and noted Anthony was attempting to lock gazes.

She checked no one was coming through the open door and said, "Is there any way that we can overcome this problem?"

"No I'm sorry, there's no way.... unless?"

His smile was now a leer and Billie got the message.

"Unless I have sex with you Anthony?"

"Was that your suggestion?"

"Yes."

"And made freely and without coercion?"

"Absolutely."

Anthony smiled and told her and close and lock the door. Conveniently for this unauthorized management procedure, the only windows were on the outer wall and were high up.

"Remove your panties and back into me. I don't wish you to see me."

"Why not?"

"I'm married and will regard this not unlike masturbation and not really adultery. You settle and I'll roll on a condom."

Billie waited patiently until Anthony said to sit on to his lap. Although he hadn't done anything to prepare her he had lubed the condom and his dick slipped into her without trouble.

"Now move, up and down."

"Do you want my breasts uncovered?"

"No I don't like breasts; I only like getting off. Try to squeeze tighter around me," he said, and remained stationery throughout the unsavory encounter.

Anthony finally grunted and groaned and without inquiring whether Billie wanted to climax told her brusquely she could go now and not to look back as she left.

Billie hurried off, angry for allowing him to humiliate her like that and turning sex into a non-event. Now the jerk would feel he was entitled to use her as a fuck machine whenever he wished. But incredibly that didn't happen. Anthony never again attempted to compromise her for sex and each week wrote in the schedule her days and times when she wished to work in the following week. 

Billie assumed the experience taught her something about some men although she hadn't worked out what. She couldn't understand why he'd want to do it like he had. He was a real weirdo. 

CHAPTER 2

Billie remained friends with Carol but she and Eva became as close as loving sisters. Billie had one brother and no sister and Eva the last-born had three brothers. The two females agreed their relationship was like gaining family. Two of Eva's brothers occasionally dated Billie and her parents just adored the lively blonde, softly spoken Texan.

Billie would never forget the time she met Ryan the oldest brother in a bar. He'd shown no interest in dating her and was usually very dour so she'd shown no interest in him. He came up to her and offered to buy her a drink.

"I only dropped in for coffee."

"Then I'll order you coffee."

They talked and got along reasonably well and finally he said his girlfriend had been away for three weeks.

"So that thing's not getting exercise?" she said. 

They were on bar stools facing one another and she stared at his crotch.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing really," she said, feeling a little horny.

"Do you want to find out if I'm better than my two brothers and dad?"

"I've not been near your father," she said indignantly.

"Ah now I know you have had sex with my brothers."

She colored.

"Come on Billie, let's have a quickie in the men's toilets.


Aspiring Novelist Pt. 01



She couldn't believe he'd just said that.

"What over a hand bowl?"

"No I'm not an exhibitionist."

"No way," she said, making the mistake of turning and looking at the passage leading to the toilets.

"I have a condom."

"I bet your haven't."

He reached into his wallet and dropped a wrapped condom on to the bar beside her elbow.

She panicked, grabbed it and stood to leave but Ryan was so quick and reassuring.

"Come on Billie, be a real pal. My balls are turning blue."

He had her by the arm and they were into the passage before she realized it.

"I-I don't know."

"Well I do," said the 28-year-old. "It will be great experience for you."

"Experience?"

"Yes it's all part of your growth as a woman?"

"What?"

"Let's not bother with semantics darling. Here into this booth."

He locked the door and Billie was astonished at the size of the dick Ryan pulled out. She watched him roll on the condom thinking she was about to get that shoved into her.

"Are you right?"

She swallowed and said yes but he was not to touch her asshole.

"I don't do anal," he sighed and she felt reassured.

"Remove your panties and then lean over, bracing yourself on the toilet seat."

She felt full when he pushed in, taking his time after having licked her pussy and then used spit to wet the condom. Ryan said, "Push back and me when you feel me beginning to push back into you each time.

"I know what to do," she said indignantly and he said he doubted that. 

That made her mad and she pushed back with gusto and soon had him panting and saying, "Oh shit, oh shit. Oh baby, am I going to get my rocks off."

He did and she gushed big time and Ryan looked hugely pleased with himself.

"Clean up while I look outside to make sure the coast is clear," he said, acting like a gentleman.

Minutes later Billie was on her way home promising herself never, never would she act like such a slut again. If she hadn't felt beautifully fucked she would have been very angry with herself. 

She was so busily composing an unlikely telephone conversation with her mother, thinking she'd say, 'Guess what I did today mom? I allowed myself to be fucked in the men's room of a bar' and her mom would scream she was coming to Philadelphia to kill her daughter that she was seconds late from stepping on to her bus.

"Hey wait," she yelled running for the orange and white bus but the driver pretended he'd not to see her.

* * *

As part of second-year writing studies for students, Eva and Billie wrote short stories that were among selections for an omnibus published of fiction closely related to Philadelphia's historically rich past. The volume reached best-seller status in the city for six weeks and several book reviews commented very favorably on Billie's fictional character, bigamist Captain Bertram Wiltshire whom she credited with great foresight in 1924 as being the first person to envisage the comprehensive development of the city's Delaware River waterfront into one of the world's great integrated urban redevelopment projects.

One influential literary critic wrote, "The belligerent and hard-drinking, womanizing former seafarer Captain Wiltshire, who was only five foot three inches tall and who became a hugely successful importer of spices and whisky, is a character depicted so graphically that he almost appears to come out of the pages at the reader. Young author Billie Summers, in her second-year of literary studies, has the signs of another young giant emerging from Penn University. This girl has raw talent."

Billie was agog when she read the review in the morning newspaper, not because of the extravagant praise but because she was called an author and was identified publicly as having raw talent.

"Omigod," she almost whimpered and lifted her head to find Susan and Colin looking at her proudly.

Susan said gently, "Go phone your mom and read the review to her."

Billie chose to be evasive and said he mom wouldn't be interested.

"And who are you attempting to kid?" Susan said. "Off you go."

As soon as Billie finished reading the review her mom burst into tears. Almost thirty seconds past before Billie could understand what Janice was saying to her. 

Two days later a New York publisher, who had been born and raised in Philadelphia, contacted Billie.

"Hi Billie I'm Sam Sorenson, a commissioning editor in New York. I got your phone number from one of your professors."

"Hi Mr Sorenson."

"Sam will be fine. I've read your story and have spoken to the publisher and she has no problem with my proposal and is giving me the assurance in writing. She is happy for you to write for me. I wish to commission you to turn that short story into a 200,000-word novel."

The astonished student blurted, "Why?"

"Because people will line up to buy it, that's why."

Billie didn't quite know how to reply but commercialism won through. "How much?"

"An advance of ten grand."

"Payable immediately?"

"If you commit to finishing your draft manuscript in six months from today. That period covers your summer break. If you can produce the goods for me you could well walk away with at least a hundred grand on this project. You have created a fabulous character Billie but you must take care not to make your other characters larger than life."

"I hear you Sam. So what now?"

"I'll be in Philly this weekend to visit my grandmother who's in a retirement village. I'll be staying at the Omni on Chestnut."

"I know where that is."

"Say 6:00 for drinks and then dinner?"

"Might I suggest we meet at 5:00 in the lobby and stroll through Independence Park and you can tell me about being in Philly as a kid and things your father and your grandfather told you."

"It will be cold outside. I'll do better, I'll get a list of old living identities from my mother to use as part of your research to ensure authenticity."

"Do that Sam but I also want you to walk with me through the park listening to you talk about growing up here."

"No I suggest this. I'll collect you at 2:00 with my grandmother and we'll drive through the older parts of the city and past the landing and both reminisce but my recollections are outside of your twenties and thirties eras."

"Who knows, Captain Wiltshire might live until the late 1950s."

Sam laughed and said good thinking, to email her details of where to come for her. He said he'd bring a contract with him.

"And a check?"

"Yes if you sign on Saturday."

"Then email me a copy of the contract."

"Are you short of money?"

She said no but her parents were struggling to pay down debt on their small ranch resulting from a drought four years ago that lasted two years. She wanted the check made out to her mom Janice Summers who handled the ranch accounts.

"You're a good kid thinking that way Billie. Can I trust you to exercise your raw talent to capacity to produce a good book for us?"

"I promise sweat, blood and tears:"

"In that case your advance rises to $30,000. We don't want your mom and dad busting their guts to save the ranch."

Billie was staggered and felt the urge to bawl her eyes out. But she knew she needed to sound adult about this. "Sam thank you and I really mean that."

"And thank you. I'm taking a gamble with you, being our youngster author by five years."

Arriving home that afternoon Billie printed out the draft contact and when she joined her aunt and uncle for drinks she handed the document to Colin and asked him to look it over. He said he'd scan thought it now but would read in carefully after dinner.

Hearing Colin gasp Susan asked, "What is it?"

"Some publisher is offering Billie a contact dear. Jesus!"

"What is it?"

"Billie is not a published author and yet she is to receive an advance for thirty grand."

Susan gave a delighted cry. "Darling you can afford to go to Europe this summer."

"No I should be using that to pay off my debt to you guys but I'd like to know your opinion of the alternative and that is for me to send this money to mom and dad to allow them to reduce their bank loans?"

"Do it," Susan said. "You are such a lovely darling. Colin?"

"We have told you Billie that Susan and I wished we'd had a daughter to send to college and then along you came. The $40,000 we'll spend on your education to meet the shortfall after scholarships is not a loan; it's a gift."

"But I can't..."

"Darling forty grand is chicken shit to what Colin and I rake in as income during a year. Be grateful, just accept it and be lovely to us as we age."

Billie eyed them both and noticed they were watching her intently. She choked a little when she said, "Okay that's a deal. I do regard you guys as my first equal family along with my parents."

"Get the champagne Colin," Susan sniffed. "With that declaration we truly have the daughter we've always wanted."

Billie called her parents and told her mom she'd be sending them thirty grand next week that she was getting paid in advance for a book, and she wanted them to pay off some of their loans with it."

"Thirty thousand? Omigod," her mom screamed and became incoherent. Billie's dad came to the phone, heard and understood what she was on about and said, "You're a really great kid Billie... just the best."

* * *

Billie waited in the lobby for Sam confident he'd recognize her. Rather than say what she'd be wearing she'd said she was a slim six foot blonde. She waited patiently and slowly became aware she'd never seen so many six-foot blondes in one place, ever. Fortunately not many were slim.

"Hi lovely lady; how much do you charge?"

Billie was disappointed. Publisher Sam Sorenson was about five feet six with blue stubble and an unsightly beer belly. She was about to say, "Hi Sam" when a lean blond guy as tall as her and wearing an Italian-cut slate gray suit and purple tie snapped, "Beat it you jerk. Fancy talk to a lady like that. I ought to kick your ass."

As the guy scuttled away the gentleman who looked cool for a guy in his forties said, "Hi Billie. You look really great. That midnight blue dress really suits you. Gran loves that color. Are you ready to leave?"

"Um do we kiss?"

He grinned and said he guessed so and kissed her and without being invited gently stroked down a breast. God he's out to have sex with her now he's seen her, Billie decided, remembering her pledge to never again act like a tramp. She removed the offending hand only it wasn't offending her.

"It is lovely to meet you Sam. My legal adviser has said to sign the contract but I must check that the lines he's underlined in the copy are exactly that wording in the copies we are to sign."

"Oh that's fine. So there's no need for me to wine and dine you this evening?

Billie's face fell and he grinned, "Just joking. I'm the youngest of three and have a younger brother and sister who are twins. Mom calls me the Peter Pan of the family because I never seem to want to become an adult."

"That's very good isn't it?"

"Very good. I have picked up Gran already to save time because she'll wish to stop somewhere to have afternoon tea to make it feel like a real occasion going out with us."

At the end of a lovely afternoon with Sam's quite aristocratic grandmother Julia proving to be amazingly fluent and a mine of information, he dropped Billie off to dress for dinner and to meet him at his hotel at 8:00.

Susan worried about Billie going to a hotel alone to meet a man for dinner that late but Billie said, "It's okay. I feel I can trust him and if he invites me to stay I'll probably do so. Wouldn't you?"

"Uh, um..."

"No I didn't think so," Billie giggled. "You are just like mom."

Sam proved to be delightful company, offered Billie to contact him whenever she had a problem about anything and required a mentor, and throughout the evening kept his distance and sent his young investment writer home in a cab, leaving Billie wondering if Sam were gay but then she thought no, he was loyal to the woman he was living with or preferred his women to be mature. She then though perhaps Sam preferred both... loyalty and maturity between himself and returned by his partner. That gave her something to think about.

Billie worked on her novel and found she was able to incorporate some of her university studies on such things as characterization and research into her novel writing. She was a month late submitting the final chapters but Sam called her to congratulate her and said at the outset he'd advised his editor working with Billie to allow the student six weeks latitude in finishing. Sam chatted for a few minutes and said, "It's looking pretty good but we'll be getting back with suggestions where rewriting would lift the passages."

The call ended with Billie despondent, wondering why the manuscript would need to be 'lifted' when she'd poured her heart and soul into that writing.

That night her Foster father' Colin noticed the lassitude and said, "What's up baby... guy trouble?"

A couple of months earlier Colin and Susan had urged their niece to drop the titles of aunt and uncle.

"Please may we discuss this in your home office Colin? I don't want Susan involved because I'm already emotional about this and need pragmatic counseling."

Colin listened to Billie relate Sam's comments and her reaction to them.

She asked, "Well what do you think, pragmatically?"

"You won't like this because you appear determined to think the worst. In my analyst, I believe you have over-reacted because the praise about the short-story version went to your head, leaving you thinking you were bulletproof as a growing writer. Notice use of the word 'growing'?"

Looking a little confused because she was thinking this was not what she'd expected to be hearing, Billie nodded and frowned.

"You are in your apprenticeship as a novelist. There will be so much to learn and that takes time and experience..."

Billie really didn't hear the last few words. She'd already accepted the concept that she was an apprentice, a thought that had not been implanted when she began the draft novel.

"Well, what do you think?" Colin smiled.

"I'm thinking I'm whole again you wonderful counselor. What a skilled way of telling me I'm suffering from inflated ego."

She kissed him and confirmed, "I accept entirely what you had to say. Thanks. I've off to sit with Susan to watch 'Sex in the City'."

"What to study consistency in the writer's characterizations?"

"Oh no. Like Susan I wish to enjoy the absolute irrelevance those women have for the set-in-concrete attitudes most of us have about social mores as taught to us by our parents, especially our mothers."

Colin laughed. He swatted her ass and said, "Off you go young writer."

The tales of the irreverent, aggressive, and bawdy former sailing ship captain, bigamist Bertram Wiltshire, was published under the title of 'Swashbuckling Business Tycoon'. Sales were excellent but literary reviews were generated muted... 'An excellent first novel'... 'Is this work a reflection of this young writer's nightmares?'... 'Are we to believe that no Philly female was immune to adultery during that era when Captain Wiltshire came ashore?'

Enraged by some of the sanctimonious utterances by critics Billie marched into the office of one of her professors and threw the clippings on to his desk and whined, "Am I entitled to sue these bastards for literary incompetency?"

"Ah Miss Summers who's overlooked the need for an appointment I see?"

Billie tapped a foot and glared.

Ash Brown grinned.

"Let me see... ah yes. I have read some of these. So what's the beef? Is it because none of them is recommending you for a Pulitzer?"

"Good heavens I didn't expect that. I'm only an apprentice writer. But none of these bastards mentions my writing ability and originality in turn of phrases."

"Oh dear. The incompetent bastards."

Billie angrily leant over to grab the cuttings.

"Hold it Billie. Cool down and read this but I'm showing you this in absolute confidence, okay."

"Very well."

Ash said calmly, "You look even more beautiful when fired up."

"Get to the point," Billie hissed.

Ash pulled up Billie's personal file and said he wanted to show her some messages.

"This one is from the boss."

"Miss Summers appears to be an achiever. When did we last have a sophomore have a novel published?"

Ash said he'd read replies and there were several including some student's who'd had novels published when at high school. "But the point is they are still very few and probably the number of graduates having a novel published under the age of say twenty-eight would be well under one percent. So sweetheart you are part of an illustrious minority and should be thinking, 'Fuck what the critics say, I have no need to have my ego inflation. How many novels have those critics had published?' Am I putting this into perspective for you?"

"May I sit? My knees are giving way."

"Please do. Now let's see what three of our senior lecturers have written," Ash said, reading out the memos.

"Prof. I'd like Miss Summers assigned to my classes next year. Margaret J."

'Prof. May I suggest we add 'Swashbuckling Business Tycoon' to the required reading list for sophomores. As a first novel it has the expected weak passages but parts of it are quite amazing for such a young author. Sandra A."

"Prof. Please assign Billie Summers to my classes next year. I feel she'll offer great inspiration and I want that in my classes. Donald W."

Ash looked at Billie. "Well?"

"Omigod. Um how old were you when your first novel was published?"

"Twenty-seven and I have that many rejection slips from submissions before that. I assume you feel a little boosted?"

"Yes. May I take you to dinner Ash?"

"Um Billie, I only date senior lecturers and professors."

"Oooh were you expecting a little something after dinner Ash? Then make it a full date and teach me how to fuck. You've done very well teaching me how to modify my thoughts towards churlish critics."

"You seem mature for your age Billie. I haven't organized anything for tonight. Yes I'd be delighted to be taken to dinner and without any unreasonable expectation to follow. Let's arrange to meet somewhere."

Nine months later Billie's second novel, 'Butterscotch Sex' that told the story about a former sex worker employed by a company based in Runnymede, England, that produced butterscotch confectionery for worldwide distribution. The hilarious tale told how this new wrapping machine operator progressed to become operations manager and hugely boosted public visits to the factory by encouraging factory workers to have sex with the visitors. The excitement of workers in performing such a public service raised the factory output two-fold and thereby cut the need for the company to invest in hugely expensive automated machinery. The outbursts by enraged local residents. The media mocked the puritan residents and as a result the factory became Britain's 22nd most visited place by tourists. Later the media revealed many local residents were posing as tourists and joining tours of the factory.

The critics loved it, writing that young author Billie Summers showed surprising maturity and skill in entertaining the reader with excellent prose and hugely laughable misadventures by characters and even so not allowing the factory to degenerate into a sleazy whorehouse.

Billie then abandoned writing temporarily to work harder to gain her BA and then her Master's. In graduating from Penn she received the Wilberforce Memorial Prize for her published treatise, 'Would Chaucer Have Comprehended the English of Our Founding Fathers?'

Billie's parents came to the graduation and Billie returned home with them after a very, very tearful farewell with Susan, Colin and their son Stewart. Her twin brother didn't attend Billie's graduation because an engineering firm based in Western Samoa had hired him and he worked there.




Aspiring Novelist Pt. 01



Billie of course knew she'd see her sponsoring West family again but even so the parting was hard. She would be locating almost 2000 miles southwest at McAllen, in Hidalgo Country, South Texas, where her parents had relocated after selling the ranch after their first great year post-drought. Her mom worked behind the counter at a bakery while he father was enjoying himself as a dispatcher for a trucking company.

To be Continued...



Aspiring Novelist Pt. 02



That first night during dinner her mom, tears flowing, handed newly graduated Billie Summers, MA, a check for $30,000, being a return of Billie's big advance payment for her first novel.

That return of money reminded Billie of the big gamble Sam Sorensen had taken on her in over-spending on a new author's advance but happily that investment had been returned several times over by that one novel. 

Her father, voice sounding thick, spoke about Billie performing such a huge gesture by stumping up with that money just when he and her mother had been talking about throwing in the towel. He then handed her a check for $20,000 saying it was part of her eventual inheritance being paid well in advance for being such a loyal daughter. 

On the advice of an investment adviser, who was the father of one of her friends, Billie placed that $50,000 in an offshore oil exploration company.

At the end of an unsuccessful search for employment, Billie was approached by the librarian at a high school and was hired. She was happy because books were her thing. A couple of months later during "Library Week' the school hosted celebrated author Celeste B. Bush as guest speaker at a parents' and public lunch in the gymnasium. The hall was packed because this famous Texan was well known for her novels about American pioneering women of the 1800s.

Billie was asked to drive Miss Bush back to the airport and stayed talking to her waiting for the late-arriving aircraft. Out of interest Billie said, "I've noticed the thumbnail bio about you on your books and on your publisher's web site it begins at your college years. What about..."

"Oh you've picked up my books to glance at have you?"

"I've read seven and really liked 'Chase O'Hara, Rancher.' She was depicted as being lean and strong, with a hairy upper lip but was attracted men was her flaming red hair."

"Omigod darling, and how long ago was it you read Chase O'Hara?"

"When I was an impressionable seventeen."

"Oh god, please give me your memory; it's fabulous!"

"Well not for the moment. I noticed you skipped over my question about your childhood."

"Ah. Would you believe I spent it in an orphanage until I was fifteen when I was rescued by Alvin and Vivian Bush, a childless couple in their forties who owned and operated a book store in a small city well east of here."

"Omigod."

"It's nothing to be proud of dear."

"Why not? Can't you see it's a Cinderella story and that couple, are they still alive?"

"Yes, I see them regularly. They are very old."

"Can they still read?"

"Yes... I know a woman of 100 who reads every day. Why are you so interested?"

"Damn here comes your airplane. Please give me your card and I'll email you."

"I don't use email."

"Then I'll write a letter. Just get used to the idea I wish to write a novel based on your childhood."

"Fact-fiction?"

"Yes."

"Well I really don't know..."

"Listen to me Miss Bush..."

"Actually my real name is Mrs Acland, although that is not generally known. I married late and by then my readers had become used to me being a spinster."

"W-why did you choose to marry late?"

"I'd rather not say."

"Because you didn't wish to risk leaving a child or children who might end up in a foster home?"

"My god young woman, you have some sort of exceptional talent. Yes that was the reason."

"May I attempt to write your biography? I've had two novels published and have a Master's in lit from Penn."

"Really, how interesting. But I must tell you I've always refused approaches from journalists wishing to pry."

"Think about this Miss Bush. Why did I ask could Alvin and Vivian Bush still read? They are your real hero and heroine, not those fictitious people you write about. For god sake Miss Bush, take that final step out of your binding past. Goodbye. It's been a honor to meet you."

Passengers were being called to prepare for boarding. Miss Bush called out, "Oh Billie... you forgot my card."

She was holding it out as Billie returned grinning. "I apologize for being theatrical. I had no intention of leaving you until you were actually boarding. I pretended to walk off to trigger the response I wanted."

"Well you are a very bright young woman. Now don't be too long writing, do you hear."

"No ma'am."

"Please stop groveling and call me Celeste."

CHAPTER 3

The biography of Celeste B. Bush, 'From the Orphanage' and published in New York by Sam Sorenson's company of which he was now the CEO. The launch was held in the Houston Galleria where the special guests to capture media attention where Celeste and her foster parents, Alvin and Vivian Bush and Billie Summers, the biographer.

It was a gala event with a big build-up and Billie was well aware her time had come. The pre-release critiques acclaimed her in many ways including, 'one of America's best emerging authors' and 'a quirky and smart-minded new author who's freshness and frankness will brighten the leisure time of readers'. 

But the knockout punch came the evening before Billie and her mother went to Houston. They were watching a book show on TV ending when Micki Rogers smiled at her male co-host and asked, "And the book you glanced at this week Alfie that rang your bell?"

"I meant only to glance at it but ended up reading it through the night. It was so captivating."

"Oh naughty boy. That's not like you. What's the book?"

"The biography of one of our favorite authors Celeste B. Bush."

"Omigod that's 'From the Orphanage' by Billie Summers. I'm being rushed to Houston to interview that talented kid live tomorrow night with Celeste. I'm told it's crammed with things we haven't known about Celeste despite her fame. Well good night everyone. Be watching this network tomorrow at 6:30 when I'll be in cow country interviewing Celeste and Billie the kid. Author Billie Summers is not yet twenty-five."

"Omigod," Janice said, fanning her flushing face. "All of that was on network TV with millions of people watching."

"Mom please, that was scripted as a promo for tomorrow evening. Don't get too excited."

"Scripted or not, Micki Rogers has integrity and won't say anything she doesn't believe."

"Okay mom, you're probably right. Anyway most viewers won't have any idea about promos and scripting... if Sam saw that he'll be rubbing his hands in glee."

* * *

The floor manager tried to send in Celeste first but Celeste thwarted him by grabbling Billie by the arm and marching in with her. Celeste was dressed as if ready for a ball and Billie had chosen a dull brown shirt, colorful poncho, tight jeans and plain dark brown cowgirl boots.

Micki Rogers: We welcome esteemed American period novelist Celeste B. Bush with her extremely gifted biographer Billie Summers.

The studio audience clapped politely.

Micki glanced at Billie: Straight from riding the range are you Billie?

Billie: If you mean horses, no. I'm scared of horses.

Micki: And so are most of us although we're not Texans like you. Do you ride Celeste?

Celeste: No horses scare me as do motorcycles and most things other than automobiles.

Micki: So how did this literary collaboration between you two begin? I can scarcely believe Celeste that after years of refusing to be interviewed in depth you called up Billie to come and talk to you about writing your biography.

Celeste: No Billie was working at a library waiting to find a novel.

Micki: She wouldn't have to look far. Libraries are full of novels.

Celeste: I meant the novel lurking within her. Out of interest she asked me about my early life and for once I failed to divert anyone asking that question. I said I grew up in an orphanage and that kind of switched her on.

Micki: "I bet it did. What did she say?"

Celeste: Omigod I can't remember but I'm sure she thought it was raining pennies from heaven.

Micki: Billie there's not a single reference to sex in this biography. Do you think you failed to ask the right questions?

Billie: I don't believe Miss Bush know about sex.

Celeste almost fell out of her chair laughing and the studio audience screamed in laughter at Billy's straight face and Celeste being in near hysterics.

Billie: Actually we made a pact. She allowed me to write about her almost secret marriage to William Acland and to explain the reason for that providing I made no mention of her having sex with anyone or anything in my manuscript.

Celeste (arching an eyebrow): Sex with things?

Billie: Miss Rogers this is a family show.

Micki: Oh of course. Well that saved a couple of bleeps. Why did Miss Bush marry late?

Billie: She had no wish to have something happen to her child or children if something dreadful happened to her and they experienced the hardships of orphanage life that she did. So she married after passing through childbearing age.

Micki: Omigod how tragic.

Billie: Yes but revelations like that make my book a great read. It has nothing to do with the writing.

Micki: Celeste? 

Celeste: The word for that is something that comes out of the backside of a Texan bull. The creative genius of this young writer brought my life alive to me when I read her completed manuscript. My foster parents, who are now in their nineties, read it to each other they said often with tears flowing because it seemed as if Billie had been there with us in those early days.

Billie: I cried when Miss Bush told me about her years in that orphanage after being found as an abandoned baby and I cried when writing.

Micki: Well that obviously shows and today's big book launch has been a big day for both of you.

Billie: And for Mr and Mrs Bush. They know Miss Bush would have hated talking about her days in the orphanage and appreciate she did so in public to acknowledge who they gave her a real life.

Celeste: And that's the truth and it happened just like Micki has said. My foster parents were overcome reading what I'd thought about them because until reading my praise and gratitude; they'd thought I'd only half-loved them. I owe Billie everything.

Micki (sniffing): Oh that's so lovely. Time to wind up. Parting words from you Billie."

Billie: I began reading Celeste B. Bush from the age of fourteen and adored the novels I read. People all over America can now read the unexpurgated story -- apart from the sex -- of Celeste B. Bush.

Celeste: This might not seem profound but the day I first met Billie she told me that she'd read seven of my novels and I asked which one had she liked best. And she said, 'My favorite was 'Chase O'Hara, Rancher.' She was depicted as being lean and strong, with a hairy upper lip but what attracted men was her flaming red hair'. I asked how long ago had she read that novel and she said seven years ago. I shall die happy knowing a little piece of me helped form the foundation of a brilliant creative writing career that awaits her." 

The studio audience as one rose and applauded, no one being sure who was being applauded.

"Thank you ladies for being my guests tonight," Micki shouted above the din.

Billie left Houston next morning with her mother and two days later went to LA where she met a woman from the marketing department of her New York publisher and a hired professional public relations woman to begin an across America whistle-stop promotion of the bio. 

The popularity and curiosity of Celeste was such that books sold by the truckload and ran into four new print runs. By the time the three females reached New York Billie was one third of the way through her next novel she'd started two weeks after the bio entered pre-print stages. She'd resigned her library job before leaving for Houston because she had more than sufficient money to support herself. It was just a matter of deciding whether to stay put or to relocate. It was tempting to stay because her mom didn't bother her unduly and they liked each other's company. But how do you meet guys when living and working at home?

Janice remained calm when Billie said she'd be moving out.

"I want to find somewhere calm and peaceful, by the water with not too many people about."

"Well you've stayed longer than what I thought you would. Any ideas Casper?"

"Yeah, if you want peace beside the water I'll call Amy to see if their holiday house near Corpus Christi is tenanted. They don't appear to use it much these days."

Billie smiled. "Oh I remember. The property fronts the shoreline."

"Yeah."

"Please call her now dad."

"You'll need a better vehicle to get about in that area and to get along rough roads to hike in the parks and to cross causeways to beaches," he said.

An hour later after securing the holiday home for Billie for six months, Casper took her out to look at cars Billie ended up trading in her old small Ford for a two-year-old red Jeep Wrangler and was very pleased with it.

The next day was Sunday and Casper spent time with Billie ensuring she had a very good understanding of her new vehicle and could change a flat tire. She then announced over dinner she'd leave for the Corpus Christi area next morning.

"I thought you'd be off as soon as you were familiar with your new vehicle," her mom said, dabbing her eyes.

"Aw mom, come on. You guys can visit me next weekend."

Janice sniffed, "But I thought you'd not wish to be disturbed?"

"No, I'm intending to use weekends for rest and recreation. I'd really like you to visit me this next weekend and mom you can phone me whenever you like but preferably from early evening. You're not really losing me. Look after her dad."

Billie left for the holiday house after breakfast. It was located with direct access to a sea inlet off Farm to Market Road 1781 at Rockport, in Aransas Bay just beyond Corpus Christi, less than a four-hour drive east of her parent's home. She was looking to be stimulated because her novel was dragging a bit and she thought a change in environment might stimulate her.

The working title of her manuscript was 'Wretched Rachel' and would trace the thoughts and actions of a delinquent daughter from age sixteen until she returned home at the end of her first semester at college, changed and more than ready to apologize to her parents for having made their life hell.

Billie had stayed at the house for most of two summers when she was a teenager and so knew the area quite well. The discounted rental included full use of a flat-bottom center-console fishing boat with a 25 hp electric-start Yamaha outboard, a deep-sea kayak and a choice of three mountain bikes.

It was all she wanted for the moment, apart from a guy on hand, not a live-in.

Billie called in to stock up at H-E-B Foods on Highway 35 where she used to go with her aunt and two cousins.

The checkout lady said, "Just passing through dear or are you new here?"

"I'm staying for a few months at Dan and Amy Rayburn's place, they're my aunt and uncle and I last stayed with them when I was seventeen."

"Oh Amy, and I know her very well. What's your name dear?"

"Billie, um Billie Summers."

"Omigod, you're famous."

The woman yelled, "Hey everyone, we have a celebrity at the checkout. She's Billie Summers who wrote Celeste Bush's bio. We saw her on TV recently. She's staying out by the airport facing into Copano Bay."

Billie fumed, god why didn't the woman announce the color of her underwear and be done with it.

Acutely embarrassed, Billie wanted to rush off but the checkout operator seemed to too heavy-fisted to count the bills Billie had handed over but it became obviously was just stalling. Women and two guys rushed up to introduced themselves to Billie and to welcome her to Rockport-Fulton.

Actually it turned out better than expected. A Sarah Masters introduced herself and said she remembered Billie. "I live close by where you stayed with your aunt and uncle a few years back. Amy and I went to school together and have been friends ever since although she lives most of the time in Austin these days with her family."

"How lovely to meet you again Mrs Masters. Please pop over some time for coffee. I'm here to write but I do need coffee breaks."

Well thanks to loud-moth at the checkout she'd met a friendly neighbor," Billie thought. God everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. She should be writing.

A couple walking their dog waved as Billie slowed and waited for them to stroll by before she turned into the property on which was sited one of the more modest homes in the fairly scattered neighborhood. It had no pier but the neighbors weren't fussy who walked on their piers to fish after they'd received permission to do that. Billie would be able to hook up the trailer and launch the boat off the lawn into Copano Bay.

Paradise.

Well yes for a writer seeking the quiet life.

Billie unloaded and then explored the house and decided to sleep and work in the loft, with its better views, but to use the facilities downstairs of course including watching TV.

Two hours later she answered a knock on the door and a guy aged about twenty-five said, "Mom sent me down with this apple pie and I'm to say welcome and you may use our pier."

"On, and who are you?"

"Jim Struthers."

"Oh hi Jim. I'm Billie Summers."

"Cute name."

"Thanks. I haven't stocked up with beer but have some wine. Please come in and..."

"Are you sure? You're alone aren't you?"

"Yes," Billie said looking surprised. "But there's no law preventing me from inviting any caller of any sex in for a drink."

"Mom will not think kindly of you if you invite me in. She's a lay preacher."

"And what are you Jim?"

"A pilot. I fly tourists to places and sight-seeing over the mainland bays and out over the foreshore islands."

"Well in that case I choose a pilot who's close to my age rather than your mother who sounds a little straight laced for me. Step inside before I drag you in."

"Um you sound like my kind of girl... or rather woman."

"Thanks pal. Here's wine straight out of my shopping bag. Please open it and pour."

When they were seated and had toasted to 'the good life' as proposed by Jim, Billie asked, "Do you have your phone?"

"Yes ma'am."

"It's actually miss but call me Billie. Who else is at home?"

"Just mom and my young sister. Dad works at the international airport as an aircraft engineer and will work until 8:00."

"Please call your mom and sister over."

"Are you sure?"

"Call them."

Jim dialed and said, "Him mom. I've delivered the pie and the lady has invited me in for a drink and has suggested you and Silvana come over. You ought to meet her... she's young and pretty and knows what she's about. I'd say very sophisticated."

"I'm in here because she invited me mom. Please don't bitch. Just come over and meet your new neighbor."

Jim slid his phone shut and sighed. "She's mad that I came into your house when we don't know you and you're young."

"Never fear Jim. I'll take responsibility for that if she kicks up. How's the wine?"

"Better than the crap we drink."

"Oh please Jim don't mention that when your mom arrives."

He grinned and motioned should he answer the knock and Billie smiled and nodded.

A beautiful young girl and an attractive and well-dressed woman entered.

"Omigod," said the eighteen-year-old, gaping at Billie.

"Silvana, please don't use that language, said her mom. "What is it?"

"This is Billie Summers who wrote the biography on Celeste, dad's cousin."

"Don't be silly darling. It can't be. That woman would live in Dallas or perhaps New York."

"Welcome Mrs Struthers and your lovely daughter. I'm staying here for a few months."

"My goodness, you are very beautiful. Please call me Caitlin and this is my other child Silvana."

"What a beautiful name Silvana. I have some copies of the biography with me. Would you like me to autograph one for you?"

"Oh would you please. I'd be honored."




Aspiring Novelist Pt. 02



Recovering from shock, Caitlin was full of apologies and so sorry she'd not recognize Billie.

"Oh failing to recognize me is fine Caitlin and I hope other people don't recognize me as well because I'm here for the quiet life and wish to make real progress writing. Thank you very much for that apple pie. It looks delicious and it was a very neighborly thing to do."

"Thank you. Um Billie you are just settling in. Please come and have dinner with us this evening. We won't eat until around 8:30 because we wait until my husband Grady comes off his shift at 8:00."

"A glass of wine Caitlin?"

"No thank you. I only drink wine with lunch or dinner."

"Silvana?"

She looked at her mother whose mouth suddenly had turned thin-lipped.

"I take that's a yes," Billie said and poured a half glass and held it out to the teenager who hesitated and looked at her mother again.

Caitlin said, "Take it Silvana and thank Billie."

"Thank you Billie."

"Well also drink it Silvana. Sip lightly. Always take care with alcohol and by that I mean use discretion wisely and that means never drink heavily and be careful when and where you drink and with whom, especially with whom. You may visit me any late afternoon you wish Silvana and you'll always be offered a small glass of wine, but only one. If your parents object to that then we must abide by their edict."

"Well I have no problem with that Billie," Caitlin said carefully. "My thinking is you'll be an excellent role model for Silvana. You are welcome to treat Silvana as if she were your kid sister. In you I trust Billie."

"Wow that's heaping me with responsibility land me with that last bit Caitlin."

Everyone laughed.

From that night the Struthers family more or less adopted Billie. Grady turned out to be a very pleasant guy, rather reserved but with a good humor and he instantly liked Billie and tumbled into the role of surrogate father. The first thing he took on was to teach Billie how to back her vehicle with the boat trailer attached. 

Billie's parents arrived on Saturday from dinner and stayed the night. The Struthers were invited to dinner and Caitlin sent Silvana over to help and to advise that Jim had already arranged to have dinner at his girlfriend's place and sent his apology.

"Don't worry about Jim," Silvana said. "Although he's not hooked on this chick my brother is too dull for you. I think I'll introduce you to my much older cousin Ted who skippers a charter boat for tour parties. He's one of those full-on guys that women like and if he goes out with you he won't be able to play around with married women."

Billie noted that offer and philosophical comment in her writer's diary to use sometime. Silvana, as a teenager beginning to look at the world around her with opening eyes, was becoming a real inspiration to Billie and already they were great friends.

Eleven weeks later Billie sent off her final chapters. The publisher decided to go with Billie's working title of 'Wretched Rachel'. Although pleased about that Billie and was rather disappointed that her editor when contacting her after completion of editing was not ecstatic.

"Are you expecting it to bomb?"

"No," Jocelyn said. "I remain confident about it. In fact it exceeds my expectations. That being said I must say I believe you have written this with the brake half on. You've told a story, a good story in fact, but it's as if there's no passionate you behind this story."

"Restrained like that you are just a competent journeyman at the keyboard. So don't rush into your next work. Just think about how to write something that brings out the passionate you."

"I take your point Jocelyn. Would you like to come down here and spend a few days?"

"Well I'm very busy."

"We could tour some of the most interesting cities in all of Texas, swim, drink wine, fish..."

"Fish, do you fish?"

"I've caught fish by casting out off the front lawn but also have a small boat and I have been invited to use the neighbor's pier."

"Omigod, I haven't been fishing since I left home. Look I be in contact with you... no, that will mean I'll never come. Expect me on Saturday morning and I'll return to New York on Wednesday. How do I get there?"

"Fly to Houston and then take a direct flight to Corpus Christi that is less that an hour away. Send me flight details and I'll meet you."

A week later Billie drove the publishing editor Jocelyn Winter, a widow in her late fifties, back to the airport and listened, smiling, to her guest waxing on about how she'd fallen in love with that part of Texas after having been under the impression that Texas was simply flat, dusty and soulless. 

"Darling you have gotten yourself the perfect writer's retreat. God if I never go fishing again I'll remember those hours we wasted away idyllically on the water, and not without hauling in fish I might add. I shall treasure those photos you took of me with my catches."

Ready to board her flight Jocelyn kissed Billie and said softly: You have done the graft to establish yourself darling and will make a good living out of writing if you sustain your effort. Now it's time to lift up above the pack darling. I'm talking to you like this because I believe in you; I believe you have what it takes. Move forward but don't rush it; just make sure you've taken a theme that will allow you to shine as an author."

Billie thought of returning to Philly because Philadelphia had seemed to inspire her. But then she thought no, she was Texan and her big novel, if she had one in her, ought to be written in Texas and set in Texas. She needed to do that to believe in herself.

Out on her flat bottom boat she spent hours thinking and occasionally taking a theme and trying to develop it. To no avail.

Occasionally Jim from next door would call to say he had a one-person charter and would invite her to fly with them. The grandeur of the Gulf of Mexico coastline with its outer natural barriers of islands, waterways plus on the shore lakes, bayous, bays and outcrops fascinated Billie and she liked to think the scenery comforted her soul. Of course when flying one had to discount the offshore drilling wells and the shore-based unsympathetic development including absolute monstrosities to think of the coastal landscape as fodder for the soul.

She was being dated regularly including by Ted, the tourist boat skipper, but those associations were of a transient nature and never reaching her finer senses. At the same time they provided the comfort a woman needs of being desired if not loved. Oh of course the guys made out they practically loved her.

After the TV appearance with Celeste at Houston, well over a hundred emails and letters had been forwarded by the TV station PR people to Billie, mostly from people congratulating her for telling the in-depth story of their favorite or one of their favorite novelists. This correspondence including a few outbursts from people no one could ever please and a couple from apparently deranged people. But within a couple of weeks the feedback had dried up.

It surprised Billie, quite profoundly, a month after that correspondence ceased to receive a forwarded letter from a guy with a great name, Ben Aspen. The letter moved her so much so she decided opportunity had found her. This guy had not forgotten Billie's comment on TV that she didn't ride despite being a Texan because she was afraid of horses.

'I'm back to thinking of your horrifying comment,' wrote Ben.

The use of the word horrifying rather startled Billie.

'You know Billie horses are a little like people, there are good ones and bad ones and I think you ought to come here and stay with me and my extended family -- I'm a seventy-two year old grandfather -- and let you get to know Little Lady. You see Billie, you shocked me saying on public TV you are afraid of horses when I regard horses as the most gracious of God-given animals inhabiting this earth. I know I'm biased but then who isn't about something? Horses are my life and I'm a horse breeder known in many parts of America and even beyond. Billie come and meet Little Lady. Stay with us on our horse ranch and breathe in great air and experience a wholesomeness of a good family living in a great environment.'

Out on the boat next morning Billie pulled Ben's letter out of her pocket and that told her something. Why had she brought it with her? The answer was because it intrigued her. Initially she'd thought he might be a mail stalker because he'd slyly waited until the reaction to her TV appearance would have well and truly died, hoping to catch her unaware and in a soft frame of mind. The second thing was she'd not filed away that letter with all other written correspondence and that told her something.

She now re-read the leader and confirmed there was nothing sinister that she could find. In fact as she examined the words used she though it unlikely a sly man would be able to use a word like wholesomeness; she doubted whether it would be in a stalker's vocabulary. And reading between the lines the writing appeared consistent to how she thought a relatively unsophisticated man living in rural Texas might express himself.

That evening she called Ben and he appeared thrilled he'd contacted her and laughed when she said his was the most unusual correspondence she'd received in her life and she was intrigued.

Laughing he said, "I guess you calling means you've accepting my invitation to come here?"

"Well I'm thinking about it."

"Just a moment Billie, I'll put your on to my wife Martha."

"Good evening Miss Summers," said the woman, obviously a little deaf because she spoke a little loudly. "My husband doesn't take kindly to people who are critical of horses and your comments, although scarcely critical, worried him and he's back on it again because he believes that you saying that to millions of people watching you on TV would have harmed the image of horses, even if only slightly."

"But that wasn't my intention Mrs Aspen."

"Of course not, and we accept that. But you are an author and we loved your writing as we love Celeste. What Ben is attempting to do is to influence you to write a novel set on a horse ranch. He knows you are very busy and..."

"I'm not Mrs Aspen. I have just finished a novel that is being prepared for publication and am in the process of thinking about my next setting."

Billie could hear Martha relaying that information to Ben.

Martha said, "Are you there Miss Summers?"

"Yes."

"We are coming to get you and will leave here in the morning."

"Please don't do that. Your eagerness and courtesy have impressed me Mrs Aspen. I'll leave in the morning to come to you. This is so kind of you."

* * *

Billie left next morning on the all day drive to Sunset some 460 miles north and situated about halfway between Fort Worth and Wichita Falls. When reaching Sunset just after 4:00 that afternoon as arranged, Billie called the Aspen's and Martha excitedly gave her directions to the ranch.

Martha and Ben and their married daughter Elsie with her two children came out to meet Billie. Elsie lived with husband Amos who was out tending cattle. She had a brother Sam who lectured on computer science at a university in Austin.

"God you are so pretty, even better than that air-brushed photo of you on your books."

"More wholesome in the flesh?"

Elsie giggled and at that Billie instantly knew they'd become good friends and the interest deepened when she learned Elsie's college degree was in English Lit and she'd taught at high school until her marriage.

"Well come in beautiful lady and have some nourishment," Martha said, taking Billie's arm. Ben hovered, beaming and looking like a ringmaster about to make a major announcement.

When they were seated and the kids were back at the toy box, Ben said, "Tell me Billie, who do you think Little Lady is?"

"Well I have my initial thought confirmed because Mrs Aspen and Elsie are not short and your grandchildren are boys. That's confirmation that Little Lady is a mare, probably your beloved mare."

Ben laughed delightedly. "I had this idea stewing that you'd not disappoint me. Little Lady is the best mare I've ever bred from although she is small for a Thoroughbred. She's now an old lady, in retirement, aged twenty-six and successfully produced twenty offspring. Two have become very successful breeding stallions, and eight very successful dams while three were outstanding on the race track and all have been even in temperament and made even the poorest of riders look good and good riders look great." 

"Excuse my husband for acclaiming Little Lady's success as his own Billie although I admit the choice of sire was his to make."

"That's okay Mrs Aspen. I say if you are proud, be proud."

"Ah yes, that's an alternative way of looking at my boastful husband. Please call me Martha dear."

"I used to ride Little Lady every day but no one rides her now," Elsie said. Her real name is registered as Savannah Symphony but I renamed her in my teens because I thought that name was too pompous for such a darling mare. She was not tall for a Thoroughbred being only 15.1 hands high."

After breakfast next morning Ben took Billie to meet Little Lady. He placed a chair outside facing away from the open door of the barn and sat Billie.

"This is just a little test to determine whether she is apprehensive of you or likes you or really likes you. Try not to be fearful. I promise she won't harm you. I'm going in to let her out. She will come to you in her own time."

Billie could hear the horse approaching and did her best to keep relaxed because she wanted Little Lady to like her. The mare stopped behind her and Billie could hear her sniffing her hair and then her head came beside Billie's for a moment and her muzzle rested over Billie's shoulder momentarily.

Ben appeared and turned Little Lady away from Billie and said Little Lady more than liked her; she really liked her. 

"See that stand of trees beside that track way down there?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you walk with Little Lady to those trees and return with her. She needs you to open the gates. Going this way they'll open towards you but she knows to stand back."

"Won't I need to hold her with a bridle thing."

"No she can walk beside you without a halter and lead. But talk to her. She enjoys company.

The following night Billie was over with Elsie and her family for dinner. Amos amazed Billie because although he looked like the cowboys she'd seen in old Western films, was incredibly slim with practically now sign of hips and ass and his jeans appeared to fit like a second skin, he told her they didn't have any horses on their small cattle ranch and he'd rarely ridden a horse since he was twelve years old.

"We use dirt-styled motorbikes and dogs to move cattle and use quad bikes to haul fencing supplies or to take out grain to the feed troughs. The hay is wrapped in big round bales and dumped in the corners of each field to be used when required."

"Oh, um do you have a six-gun... I mean for sentimental reasons?"

"No I shy away from handguns but do have a couple of Winchesters, a modern and an old style one. Are you big into guns?"

"Um no. I've never held a gun and never ridden a motorcycle either."

"Gee lady. Well I want you to come back in the morning and spend a day with me and learn something about real ranching for this book you're going to write."

"What book is that?" Billie asked, noting Elsie frowning at her husband but Amos ignored her. "Ben has got you here to write about horse breeding but I think the book would have great appeal if you made it a cattle ranch with horse breeding as an sideline to help pay some of the bills."

"Okay then. So you use your Winchesters to run down vermin and shoot them through the head?"

"Sort of like that but usually we stop because I'd probably shoot one of my ranch hands attempting to shoot riding over rough ground. Of course when the cattle do down we usually shoot them."

"Oh god, you shoot your own cattle or neighboring strays?"

"Billie you city gal. How would you deal with a critter with a broken leg? Ask the vet for sticking plaster?"

"Oh god I just didn't think did I?"

"A couple of times Ben has had me over to shoot one of his horses when there was a delay with the vet to apply a lethal injection. Poor Ben with his heart of gold; he could never shoot one of his horses."

"Oh god."

"That's enough Amos. You'll be having Billie peeing her pants. Don't worry about this steak darling, it's not from one of our steers or one of dad's horses. Our meat comes from the supermarket."

"You eat horsemeat," Billie asked Amos, wide-eyed.

"Hell no," he laughed. "If I did Ben would knock the crap out of me."

Billie stayed two weeks. She and Ben walked Little Lady most mornings when Billie wasn't out with Amos and the boys (two ranch hands). The boys were both married. The one with a wife and two children lived in a shack he happily called home and the guy with no children lived nearby in an aged RV now without wheels. It now had a permanent lean-to roof under which Lance and Susie spent most of their time because both were outdoors people.

A delighted Billie learned a lot about horse ranching and cattle ranching and seeing the things going on was much better that simply reading websites. The men never swore, or at least she thought they never did, but that changed one afternoon when a young bull charged Lance and he yelled to Amos, "Shoot the crazy fucking bastard" and Amos yelled you silly bastard leap sideways."

As Lance tripped and fell, Amos sent a dog at the hornless bull that only had time to make one head thrust at Lance before being diverted by the dog that sunk its teeth into the polled bull's nose and the critter scurried away in pain, bellowing. Fortunately Lance suffered a greater loss of dignity than serious injury.

"I'm injured," Lance said, standing and dusting his lower body with his Stetson. "I want two days off and fifty bucks compensation."

"Get back to castrating those calves you malingerer," Amos roared.

"Is that what you guys are doing?" Billie said weakly, and Amos only just caught her before she fell face down to the ground.

"Are you okay," he asked anxiously.

"I think so. Everything suddenly went black."

Later Elsie told Billie gently that male cattle without their testicles behaved less aggressively and grew better beef. "The guys should not have had young bulls in the area where they were working on the younger cattle. This is so sloppy."

Billie stayed that night with the McGill's that evening because she was riding out on a quad with Amos at 6:00 to try to repair a water bore than the wireless monitor had indicated had malfunctioned.

Not long after dinner Elsie's brother called from Austin and spoke to his sister and nephews and then to Amos.

A couple of minutes later Amos called, "Billie, Sam would like to say hi."

"Why he doesn't know me?"

"He'll never know you unless you speak to him," Amos called, holding out the wired-in house phone.

"Hi I'm Billie the greenhorn."

"Hi Billie, you sound pretty. What's this about been a greenhorn?"

"I bet Amos told you about me fainting near where the bull calves were being castrated. I hadn't been aware of what they were doing." 

"No."

"Liar."

"Oh perhaps Amos did mentioned something like that. So I do lie. But you won't know what bothers can be like."

"Actually I have a brother called Sam although I've not seen him for a couple of years."

"Um Summers is a fairly unusual name. I recalled seeing a Sam Summers play football against the Dallas Cowboys last season."

"Yes that's my brother."

"He's pretty slippery."

"Perhaps he learned that some his sister."

"You sound interesting. Listen, why don't you break your journey on your way home and drop in and meet me for lunch."




Aspiring Novelist Pt. 02



"Well I do have to eat somewhere. And I do know Austin a little."

They agreed to meet at Barton Creek Square Mall at the Nordstrom Café because it would be easy for Billie to find.

She asked, "Why do you wish to meet me?"

"Because Elsie told me I should."

"Well that's a reply simple enough to be honest."

They laughed. 

CHAPTER 4

As arranged the night before she left the ranch when Sam called her, Billie wore the white Stetson Ben and Martha had given here as a memento of her visit. In return she'd told them at the extended family farewell she had a strong intention to write a novel set on a ranch but it depended on the outcome after she'd given it considerable thought, a process necessary in novel preparation.

"It's no use starting something with anything less than one hundred percent commitment because that leaves one open to a growing possibility of capitulating and shoving it into the too hard bin.

Ben had said he'd agree with that. At least he'd achieved something because Billie was now riding horses and had no marked fear of horses.

"It's been lovely, absolutely lovely having you here," he said, offering the toast, "To our lovely young woman Billie and may she write herself to fame."

Billie gave Martha and Elsie each a signed copy of her biography on Celeste plus a bottle of French perfume and because the effort Ben and Amos had put in teaching her things and talking to her for hours about the attitudes of ranchers and the things that were important to them she gave them both a 15-inch MacBook computer, they both being regular uses of old Apple desktop computers.

She was 20-minutes later entering the café and thought the guy receiving a fresh cup of coffee and having his old cup cleared away would be Sam because there was something familiar about him, and that related to his sister's appearance although at twenty-nine he was three years older than Elsie.

They greeting one another warmly and he was interested to learn about her time on the ranch. Billie noticed he didn't ask how were her parents and didn't ask about Elsie and his family. Although he'd called her the previous night he'd not asked to speak to his parents. Well that was his business. About forty minutes later he asked did she wish to stay the night, and she assumed he meant with him.

Billie answered politely she thought she ought to push on and at that he shrugged and appeared to lose all interest in her. So she stood, he stood and she kissed him goodbye and that was that. 

Well, she thought critically, compared with his sister he was a cold fish.

As soon as Billie pulled into her half-formed driveway Silvana has rushed from her home and opening the vehicle door joyfully said, "Oh thank goodness you're back home. I have missed you so much and mom has been the perfect bitch. She appears to control herself when you are about. Will you take me fishing in the morning?"

"You'll have school."

"Tomorrow is Saturday."

"Oh I must be back in Rockport not knowing what day it is. Oh bliss. Darling come into the house with me for a minute."

She handed Silvana the printout of the corrected manuscript of 'Wretched Rachel.'

"Invite you mom to read this. It's my latest novel and please tell her I'd commenced it before I arrived here but some of the things I experienced with you two are incorporated in later chapters but changed so much you are unlikely to recognize the incidents; but then again perhaps you will. Tell her I'd like her to read it to perhaps gain understanding and perhaps you ought to read it as well."

"It's a scary title. Is this girl Rachel doing drugs?"

"She experiences drugs but is not a junkie. The crux of it is she has difficulty communicating her thoughts and explaining her actions to her mom and her mom is too close and too emotionally distracted to take a clear view of the problems between them."

"Oh god if I tell mom that she'll be over to deal with you with her broomstick."

Billie laughed. "Well if you lack the courage to tell her that I'll do it for you."

"No it's cool. I'm really not scared of mom... I'm just careful when I'm around her."

Billie looked at Silvana in surprise.

"What?"

"What you just said to me. Have you used those words before?"

"No because no one but you is interested in the relationship between my mother and me. Why do you ask?"

"If you read the book you'll find out why."

"Does Rachel say something like that?"

"You are very bright Silvana. That line about being cool, not being scared, just being careful is more of less what Rachel says to the psychologist who is attempting to find in Rachel is as dysfunctional as her mother claims she is."

"Omigod, mothers may hate you for this novel... er at first but I suspect they will come onside as they get into the novel and remember how it was with the brat."

"Indeed Silvana. An author tries not to get permanently off-side with his or her readers."

Silvana called four hours later. "Mom was interested to receive the manuscript and to hear me relate what you said I should tell her. She replied she respected you for your sound commonsense and asked me to get dinner and began reading. She stopped when dad arrived home for dinner and now he's watching TV and she's gone off to the bedroom to read."

"Have you heard screams?"

"No, just some chuckles I suppose they were and a few Omigods. Is that good?"

"Yes very good I suspect. Be over here at 6:00 in the morning. I'll bring our breakfast with me. Everything is ready including the boat is hooked up down the lawn for the short trip down into the water."

"Um do you think the story of Rachel and her mom could improve things between mum and me?"

"I'm being optimistic here but if you both read the story then I'd say definitely."

"Jesus."

"Good night Silvana. Sweet dreams."

"You are even better than a big sister Billie. God bless."

An hour later Silvana called again and said her friend Natalie wanted her to go mall shopping in Corpus Christi in the morning. "I said I was going fishing with you and she asked could she come with us. Please Billie, you've met Natalie a few times."

"Well the problem is our boat is set up with only two seats."

"No problem, they have a aluminum-framed chair with suckers on its feet they use on her dad's boat."

"Okay then. Good night again."

"Wait and thanks Billie. Mom wishes to speak to you."

"Billie you are a marvelous writer. Your book has really gripped me. Have you been through this?"

"Yeah Caitlin, for almost three years I reputedly gave my mom a hard time and she found difficulty coping."

"Reputed?"

"Well mom exaggerates a bit. I can remember times during that period when we got along quite okay."

"I'm five chapters short of the finish and have just put it down because I'm weary but not so weary to say this book of yours will help mothers and daughters all over America, and I mean that. When loving and gentle daughters turn into disagreeable little vixens it's... it's well something really difficult to cope with."

"Well I though you might identify with Rachel's mother. She suffered badly because she handled the situation badly because she failed to deal with the situation and use the guidelines that are available. Few of use are superwomen Caitlin. I'll give you a copy of the book when it's published because you might want to loan it to mothers who are battling a young rebel. As I wrote, girls battle at home whereas guys tend to left off steam and even hit out away from home. Like any strategist in warfare and even in commerce will say, "It pays to know what we're up against."

"Well thank you darling. Thanks to you I'm expecting a better year and will look forward to when Silvana comes home at end of her first college semester."

On Sunday afternoon Natalie called Billie and thanked her for taking her out for fishing, for the great breakfast and for allowing her to take home so many fish.

"Mom would like you to come for dinner tonight."

"Well okay Natalie, so what's this really about? No to say thanks for a few fish surely?"

"Gee Silvana has said you are so sharp. Um don't get mad at me Billie but my mom is really interested in meeting you and my brother wants to get a look at you. Um he's your age. Please come Billie. He's good looking and he'll interest you because he's sales manager for a new and used boat dealership and loves fishing and hunting."

"Is this all about you saying to your brother he ought to size me up?"

"Jesus Billie is it necessary to push so hard? All right, I did mention to Gene you're one hot babe and he took an immediate interest and mom said it was time we had you over for a meal, you being our most famous resident and as well probably the most unassuming."

"God Natalie I could wring you neck. Is your mom a keen reader of books?"

"Yes and has about twenty favorite authors and really helped me with my schoolwork on literature."

"Well at least that's something. Very well, give me the time and your address."

"I'll come for you at 5:50 Billie. Dad likes to eat early and spend the night watching TV sport."

"And literary programs?"

"You have to be kidding Billie. Oh, please dress to look sexy. I've given you a really great build up."

"Natalie it might not be safe for you to come unarmed within reach of me."

Natalie laughed and said good one Billie.

Billie spent the next few hours working on very tentative outlines of three possible novels, one based on young solo mothers. The second possibility was about the amazing attachment of a teenager on her widowed father's ranch to his top brood mare and her father's latest and possibly most promising girlfriend being aghast the daughter could be so attached to a horse. The third was the hardship a distinguished female Navy Seal faced when attempting to settle back into her small hometown in West Texas.

She looked at all three drafted storylines and sighed, aware she was presently equipped with the knowledge and slight experience to tackle the horse ranch story whereas she'd be approaching the other two from scratch.

So the horse and cattle ranch storyline won and she made a note that daddy's latest girlfriend was scared of horses.

Natalie arrived right on time, smiled hugely when she saw Billie in a tight sundress with her hair piled high and in full makeup. "Oh yummy, I could be interested in you myself."

"Shut up you delinquent."

"Billie kiss me, thanking me for setting you up. It will give you the opportunity to wring my neck."

"Keep your distance Natalie and to think that until now I'd always liked Silvana's friends."

"Don't be too hard on me. If Gene doesn't attract you tell him to fuck off."

"Please behave like the lady your are not Natalie. I don't require a seventeen-year-old to tell me what to do."

"I have riled you haven't I?"

"Come here big mouth and let my kiss you. You are my youngest friend from around here so I ought not expect too much from you. Just don't attempt to set up any more dates for me, huh?"

"I won't need to," Natalie said as they left the house. "My brother will be perfect for you."

"Yeah, yeah. Stop your yapping and move your ass girl. Don't make me late."

Natalie's mom Patricia Samuels also in a sundress and hair piled high and in full makeup even though they were eating outside, greeted Billie very excitedly and said what a great honor it was to have Celeste B. Bush's biographer present for dinner.

"Patricia what is your favorite of Celeste's novels you've read?

'Dr Oliszewski Humbles the President.'

"Oh one of her most recent novels about the Polish immigrant surgeon who came across the president's son who'd crashed his car and was in danger of suffocating because of a series injury to his throat."

"Yes it said a lot about the callous way we bundle all new immigrants together as if they are morons and even some intellectuals and highly qualified professionals arriving in the country to settle are thwarted in their progress because they cannot locate specific support services that do exist." 

Billie agreed and said the novel would have required a formidable amount of research. "Celeste told me she employed three researchers to assist her set up before beginning to write that novel and actually based it on the true experiences of a Mexican pediatric surgeon speaking poor English who immigrated legally to work among the poor Mexican families in southern California."

"Gosh how fascinating. Come through and meet my husband Pete who's doing spiced chicken as well as fish in foil cooking on coals. Our son Gene dashed out to get more beer after finding we were down to the two last bottles. You do drink beer don't you?"

"Well I usually I prefer wine but I'll down a glass of it since he rushed out thinking I drink beer."

"I'll pour you a wine darling. He really went to fetch it for his father and himself. Um Gene is between girlfriends at the moment."

"Oh poor Gene."

"I was meaning what is your situation Billie?"

"Oh it's just how I like it at the moment."

"Oh?" said Patricia, looking in desperate need of an explanation of what that reply meant but Billie was waving a greeting at Pete who came walking over, wiping his nose with the back of his barbecuing hand. Perhaps it was just itchy?

Pete had grabbed the last beer and was chatting to Billie and Patricia and Natalie was inside making the salads when a tall curly-headed guy with piercing green eyes walked out of the house with two packs of beer. Billie noticed the eyes because they were piercing her body. She felt a flutter and that was a bit unusual for her because guys rarely rang her bell.

She was the closest to him so said, "Hi Gene, I'm Billie."

"I went specially to get beer for you and here you are drinking wine."

"Well you didn't ask me did I like beer and you didn't call me."

"How could I call you when I didn't have your number?"

"Did you ask you sister if she had my number?"

"Natalie told me you drank beer."

Billie looked at the tight-lipped Gene in dismay. "Oh god, I'm giving you tongue when you don't deserve it. Please accept my apology. I'm much a bitch."

Natalie, who'd arrived with two salads and had stood listening to this called, "Sorry guys. I thought you sometimes drank beer Billie and guys usually like it when women say they'll have a beer."

"Well perhaps you saw me drink a beer when I was drinking one with Jim because his family was out of wine?"

Gene said a little stiffly, "It doesn't matter Billie. I accept your apology."

"I feel awful," she said and then Patricia broke everyone up when she squeaked, "Is it safe to talk now?"

"God that was so funny you two," Pete said, still chuckling. "The first time you meet you fight. There's no future for you two together."

"I was under the impression I was invited here for a family meal, not to seduce your son," Billie said hotly.

"Billie please cool it," Natalie said, running and hugging her. "It's all my fault. I wanted Gene to see you and to fall for you."

"Natalie how could you?" Gene roared. "Just butt out of my life will you?"

"You moan you haven't been able to find an interesting woman around here... well I have news for you Gene. Look at Billie and you're looking at perhaps the best package you'll ever find."

"Natalie please cool it," Billie said, reversing their roles. "This has all been a terrible mistake and I'm at the center of it and must go to clear the air. Be ready to go fishing at 6:00 in the morning Natalie. You remain my cute youngest friend."

"May I go fishing with you two in the morning?"

Billie eyed Gene and asked, "And why would you want to be doing that?"

"According to Nat you catch more fish around here than anyone else she knows. It would also be great being out on the water with two females who appeal to me. I'll bring breakfast."

"And a couple of beers?" Billie grinned.

"Everyone sit up. We are ready to eat," Pete said, assuming control as the dominant male.

Gene walked Billie home and at the door he kissed her. She kissed him back and whispered, "I won't ask you in tonight but you may play with my breasts if you wish."

Gene did that and minutes later walked the short distance home whistling. His mother was waiting for him; the others had gone to bed.

"Well?"

"Despite the shaky start it was a good evening mom."

"No you fool. I mean what do you think about Billie?"

"She has great tits and appears to like me, although that could be me being optimistic but I don't think so. I think she's sexually frustrated."

""Not you fool, don't embarrass me. I'm asking what do you think of Billie as a person?"

"Quite sensational actually and she's no pushover. I think she's all I can handle and is at least my intellectual equal. I'll be attempting to settle her in as a regular date mom. Does that satisfy your inquisitiveness?"

"For the time being, yes. Handle her with care Gene. I think she'd loaded with more horsepower than any other females you've ever dated."

"Wow mom, usually you don't take to my dates."

 To be continued...



Aspiring Novelist Pt. 03



Billie worked on a proposal for the cattle and horse ranch novel and sent it off to Under the Tree Publishing with the working title of 'Into the Saddle."

Her editor Jocelyn Winter emailed next day: "Hi sweet young woman. We accepted your proposal this morning. Gary our executive editor pointed out we have a publishing slot four months hence, so it's yours if you believe you can finish in sixteen weeks from today. What do you think?"

Billie called Jocelyn and they had a short chat and Billie said she could meet all her deadlines to have everything wrapped up in sixteen weeks.

"Good girl. If you want us to keep you before the public we require a minimum of three books a year from you."

"That's no problem for a professional writer. Believe me this novel requires a great cover to appeal to the widest possible audience."

"Accepted. Gary told me if you take the 16-week slot I'm to allocate your project good marketing push. I said what about eighty thousand and he said okay. it's about time we projected Miss Summers to book buyers and initially this one only goes hardcover."

Billie gulped, "You mean eighty thousand bucks?"

"What else could it mean darling? Bye."

"No wait. What's motivating the executive editor?"

"Oh sorry, I've left out that piece that makes all sense of this. I'm such a tease. We were told this morning the initial rush on 'Wretched Rachel' hasn't declined; in fact mothers and grandmothers are lining up to buy it. The latest figures show advance orders of 65,305 and according to our projections you just might be lucky and have your sales crack 250,000."

"B-but even 65,000 is huge for me?"

"Yes dear. Well you did tell me your goal was to gain acclaim as a young author. Guess what's happing darling? In 'Wretched Rachel' it's not only what you have to say but also how you say it. You are riding a wave."

Billie decided to go for a walk. As she was leaving the house she spotted Caitlin talking to Patricia and Caitlin waved her over. "Come and have coffee with us under the sun shade."

They kissed Billie and Caitlin said, "You look rather pale dear."

"My book 'Wretched Rachel' is only being distributed now and advanced sales have topped 65,000."

Caitlin said, "That's huge."

"Not really but it is for me," Billie admitted and the three of them stared at a courier van that had pulled into Billie's driveway.

Patricia laughed and said, "Oooh this must be your Pulitzer Prize."

"Omigod, it's my complimentary and my ordered copies," Billie squeaked as the courier man began loading the cartons of forty-eight copies of 'Wretched Rachel'.

Billie signed complimentary copies for both women who thanked her profusely. She then told them she was thinking of going into hiding.

"Why?" Caitlin asked. "You can't get much more removed than here."

"I agree," Patricia said. "Look it's just a matter of controlling people and your environment. Park your vehicle around at the front you're your house. People looking from the street will think you are out. Tell everyone not to visit before 5:00 each day and switch off your phone. Tell your publisher to send emails and don't read them until you finish for the day. You work up in the loft don't you?"

"Yes."

"Well how much more isolated than that can you get?"

"But still take breaks," Caitlin caution and if you want any shopping done just ask me after you finish work for the day. "Look why don't you eat with us two evenings a week and then find someone else who'll also cook for you?"

"That's me," Patricia said firmly. "Caitlin you do Mondays and Wednesdays and I'll do Tuesdays and Thursdays and Billie you can look after yourself the next three nights.

"Oh this is too kind and I have no wish to impose."

"It's our wish to be kind so shut-up Billie," Patricia laughed. "God I could really attack a wine."

Billie raced across to her house and returned with a bottle of wine and three glasses.

Under that new regime Billie kept the downstairs windows closed with curtains across and opened the loft windows that couldn't be seen from the road. The hardest thing was switching off her phone but she did that and then began drafting the principal characters of 'Into the Saddle' and wondered if that title might be considered ambiguous and therefore risqué.

The heroine she called Abilene Clarke, her mother Georgia and father Clinton. The closest neighboring ranchers were the Jones's and their elder son, the hero she called Ryan.

She'd used different names in the synopsis sent to the publisher that had been approved but it was the proposed story that had been accepted, not the names. Any way the new names were superior and she already loved the characters she'd constructed to suit those new names.

She logged off for the day at little after 4:30 and felt ready for a bath and then to toddle off to bed. Long periods of deep thinking tended to tire her. Oh damn she was expected next-door to eat with the Struthers. She answered a door knock and let in Silvana.

They hugged and kissed.

"Half a glass of wine?"

"No thanks, we are eating formerly tonight and I'll have some wine then. Jim's new girlfriend is coming for dinner and mom went me to ask would you mind if she invites Gene, um, to give balance to the table."

"I have you to sit beside me for balance."

"Aw mom wants something started between you and Gene. She's been talking about this with Gene's mother."

"Oh hell, she must know I won't like Gene being set up like this."

"The new girlfriend is Gene's cousin so that makes a difference doesn't it."

"Hmmm. I don't want to be ungrateful to your mother. Just say I think I said it was lovely to have my feelings considered and I said yes and what a lovely idea."

"God that wasn't your reaction when I first mentioned it?"

"All women lie Silvana and with your cunning streak I bet you lie superbly."

"My mom thinks you're the greatest thing since peanut butter. She's already being noticeably more pleasant to me after reading your book and saying things like 'I know how you feel darling' and 'please may I make a suggestion?' Christ."

"So you don't like her attempting the kid glove approach?"

"I suppose it's okay. She's not getting up my ass so much."

Billie winced. "Silvana are you in a rough gang at school?"

"How did we suddenly get on to friends at school?"

"Oh it doesn't matter only I never ever jeered to anyone about my mom getting up my ass."

"You never thought like that?"

"I didn't say that. All I said was I'd never talk about my mother like that."

"Oh so you didn't talk about her like that out of respect?"

"Something like that. Do you respect your mother Silvana?"

"Omigod what a question to be asked."

"Don't answer. Just think about it. Perhaps I am meant to be your role model."

Silvana left, looking thoughtful and possibly a little confused and Billie was pleased, thinking Silvana was at last showing signs of being prepared to look beyond herself in the early transition from teenager to young woman. It was a start but only a start and Caitlin would welcome it if she read the signs.

After a very enjoyable evening Gene and Billie left together and as a beaming Caitlin closed the front door Gene said, almost breathlessly, "We should have sex."

Billie's reply was simply to take his hand and lead Gene to her house, walking through the hole in the low hedge on the side boundary between the two properties.

Gene removed his jacket and placed it over the back of a dining chair.

Billie mentally approved of that action, taking it as evidence of a neat and tidy man. 

He then removed a pack of condoms from the inside pocket of his jacket, forcing Billing to amend that earlier thought to evidence of a neat and tidy and prudent guy.

"What are they?" Billie said, pointing to the condoms.

Gene looked at her and swallowed noticeably.

She smiled. "Just teasing. If you're staying the night you probably will need all of them."

Gene's smile was partly a grimace. "You had me going a bit just then."

"Unzip and let me see what you're got."

He replied coolly, "Show me your breasts first."

"Okay let's call it a draw and come and sit on the sofa and I'll turn out these bright lights and then you be the ringmaster.

They sat on the sofa, straight-backed rather like a young couple just returned from church.

Billie sighed and dropped a hand over his groin and squeezed his cock. 

Gene unleashed. He pushed Billie sideways, stood, scooped her legs on to the sofa. He then in a continuous movement ran his hand up under her skirt to her crotch, sprawled beside her and began kissing her deeply and mumbling something that became "This is heavenly... this is heavenly..." when they broke apart slightly for a breather.

During that first brief breather he worked his hand under her panty leg and hooked two fingers into the opening of her moist and very warm pussy.

"Oooh."

"Yeah baby."

Apparently they knew what that meant.

Gene was perhaps halfway through screwing Billie for the first time before she reminded him he wasn't wearing a condom.

"Oh shit."

"I hope not."

"What?"

There was no reply and he scuttled over the table to rip open the 10-pack and managed to open the smaller packet without too much fumbling and drag it on efficiently.

Gene returned to Billie's side wearing a sexy grin and his eyes widened as he looked at her stretching out her breasts by dragging on each nipple.

"Jesus," he said in awe and then groaned "Oh fuck" as he filled the end of the condom.

"Don't worry," Billie soothed. "I over-excited you that's all. You still have gas left in the tank don't you?"

Gene nodded hopefully.

"Oh good boy. Change your rubber and then bang me stupid. I'm well overdue for sex."

Gene left around 2:00 and dragged his weary body home, pleased that he and Billie had decided to date regularly. He thought that arrangement was because she wanted sex but she'd claimed she wanted him around for companionship and because he was such a nice guy. He grinned and yawned, saying bullshit, but then decided Billie was just like her name, quite the most interesting woman he'd ever met who was available to him, er, for companionship.

* * *

Although awaking at dawn next morning after Gene's largely athletic administrations, Billie felt emotionally alive and actually thought like swinging from the rafters.

Oh boy. She scooped some grits softened in fruit juice into her and left the tidying up to do during a work break.

Today was earmarked for sending off copies of 'Wretched Rachel' to family and closest friends. During that work she labeled as one of the best tasks a real writer could do if she did it herself, Billie began mentally planning her new novel and soon was stumped.

When was haymaking season on the ranch?

"Dunno?" she snapped.

When were the mares put to stallions? 

Oh fuck, if Ben had told she that she'd forgotten. Perhaps it was in her notes but she required information like that in her head and not in notes or on the Web to avoid interruption to her workflow. She remembered Ben emphasizing that stallions had to be used for registration of thoroughbreds. Artificial breeding was not acceptable.

Billie sighed and thought this would be exactly the situation all novelists faced when setting a plot that was mostly outside the familiarity of their knowledge and environment. At least she had remembered bridles really were left hanging on the wall... to dry.

She tore of a pre-prepared label to put a book in a sealed plastic envelope and smiled, noting the addressee was Celeste B. Bush. She called Celeste.

"Hi my mentor."

"Omigod you little bitch. Because of you I've been put through the wringer appearing on TV and radio talk shows, talking to journalists and literary and non-literary women's groups and now the city council has commissioned a bust of me to be placed in the city library."

"Oh working hard for once in your life are you? It will have to be a pretty big bronze to include all of your big bust."

"Oh honey, I do miss your liveliness and warped humor. It's lovely hearing from you again. Tell me about your WIP (work in progress)."

"I'm sending you a copy of my latest."

"Oh yes. I saw the front cover of 'Wretched Rachel' on a book show on TV two nights ago. The reviewer awarded it four out of five stars and said it was a handbook for mothers of teenagers told at pace in the style of a ripping good yarn. Well done honey." 

"Yeah other reviews I've received from my publisher are of similar tone. They appeared focused on the word 'handbook' despite it being a novel."

"Handbook is far more preferable than many labels reviewers heap on some poor authors darling. You haven't answered my question about WIP?"

"Oh the setting is on a cattle ranch that also breeds thoroughbred horses as a sideline. I was calling to ask..."

"Did I spend my early years living on a ranch and daddy and grandpa raised quarter-horses as a sideline to help make ends meet? No darling, as you know my early years were spent in an orphanage. But I can suggest that you talk to people around you who grew up on ranches. Another suggestion is if you switch and make cattle the sideline you'll draw in many, many more readers because millions of people have ridden horses but few have ridden cattle. You know I had thought it wouldn't surprise the young writer who told America on TV she was scared of horses was very likely one day set a novel on a horse ranch. The only surprise to me is it's come so soon."

"Why didn't you say something on that night after our TV interview?"

"Because darling it is best for a novelist to choose her or his own storyline because they'll then have complete ownership and love everything about their new novel sooner and possibly more completely."

"God Celeste, you know so much."

"Don't fail to enjoy the journey towards writing maturity Billie. Think of it as growing up. Would you want to throw away your youth?"

Billie said no and they talked on rather aimlessly as women like doing.

Billie dropped what she was doing and stood on the lawn drinking a soda facing the sea, the light breeze fluffing out her hair had these days was long and poorly kept. She thought about what Celeste had said and sighed.

She heard someone approaching and saw it was Caitlin who worked four hours each weekday afternoon in job-share as a receptionist for two attorneys.

They kissed and Caitlin put her arm round the young women's waist and said, "What is it darling, writer's block?"

Billie giggled and said no, she was still in planning stages of her new novel and just been talking to Celeste B. Bush who, as usual, had given her something to think about.

"Celeste suggested I talk to people around me who grew up on a ranch."

"Send a copy of 'Wretched Rachel' to the editor of our local newspaper with a note that you are residing temporarily here in Rockport-Fulton district. The newspaper will be interested believe me and will interview you. You can mention you want contact with local people raised on a ranch and perhaps still have connections with a family ranch."

"Oh that's a great idea, I take a copy in to the editor now."

"No use the softly, softly approach. Mail it and the editor looks at it and thinks about it leisurely rather than the editor becoming defensive in being confronted by a pushy woman. Know what I mean?"

"Oh yes I do. If the editor is male I ought to allow him to make an unbiased decision rather that have an excited red-faced women thrusting her tits at him attempting to seduce him into action."

Caitlin giggled. "Billie I didn't quite say that. You are almost too much for me at times."

Two days later a reporter and photographer arrived and Billie was interviewed as a transient local celebrity. She received dozens of calls that produced valuable feedback. She selected two couples who lived nearby and they came to Billie's house for two weeks Monday, Wednesday and Friday and worked with her from 10:00 to 3:00 with pre-lunch drinks and lunch supplied. That allowed Billie to extract solid information prior to lunch, having her questions such as work routines season by season established. Then with the wine and beer being consumed the chatter automatically fell into reminiscence about 'the good old days' of growing up on a ranch and then the understanding of hardship laced with better times they experienced when they took over their respective ranches. 

Another valuable contact was a young widow who'd come off a horse ranch out of Dallas whose husband had been killed when hit by an out-of-control concrete delivery truck when returning home in his much lighter truck from taking some surplus yearling cattle to market. The 34-year-old widow, about to marry an attorney, was a tremendous source of information because she'd be began riding a pony she received for her fourth birthday and scarcely a day had past since when she hadn't gone riding. She was now a partner in a riding school and Billie enrolled at the school and learned to ride properly. Shortly after the final briefing for Billie's research she received an invitation to attend Angela and Ron's wedding with partner.

Toweling semen off her chest, Billie said to Gene, "Would you like to take me to a wedding?"

"No."

Billie bit her lip knowing she should have asked him before wearing him out having sex that destroyed billions of his brain cells.

"Why not."

"I find weddings and birthday parties boring."

"Wouldn't that be related to the type of people at the center of the occasion and their families?"

"I suppose so."

"You called in one afternoon and had a drink with the bride-to-be."

"Who that blonde divorcee with the really hot tits?"

"Widow actually and her name is Angela and yes she does have a lovely shape."

"Who's the bridegroom?"

"Ron West."

"Oh really? And what does Ron do?"

"He's an attorney near where you work, across at Portland."

"God that's Ron West who brought a 32-foot cruiser from us and we service it and his dad's boat and also Frank his partner's boat."

"Well lucky you. I should think most of the guests would be boat people in that case."

"Yeah sweetie, I'd really like to go to that wedding with you."

Billie was pleased with that acceptance but the outcome that really interested her was discovering the difference between a woman and a guy about going to a wedding, a difference that could be universal. A woman like her would go to the wedding to see how the women in the wedding party were dressed and to share in the bride's radiating happiness whereas a guy would be keen to go only if he knew other guys who'd be there. She sighed and thought it was a wonder Gene hadn't asked would they serve beer.

"Yeah it would be good to go to a wedding," Gene yawned. "Any idea about what food they'll be servicing and, um, the type of drinks?"

"No."

"Well that's okay. You know in that sort of gathering I might come into contact with someone interested in buying a boat."

"Try the bride," Billie scowled. "She might wish to trade in a horse for a boat."

"What?"

"It doesn't matter."

CHAPTER 5

Billie Summers preferred to start writing at page one, chapter one. She'd thought about the opening that would go something like this:

... it was an exceptionally hot day and Maria the house-help had gone forty miles to the supermarket to stock up. Heavily pregnant Georgina Clarke knew if she put out the washing on the line now she could bring it in dry before the breeze got up, bringing with it red dust. She reached up to pin the second edge of a sheet, knowing she was not supposed to stretch in her condition. She felt a pain rip through her and fell, screaming. Miraculously, over at the barn husband Clinton was just about to start his farm bike when he thought he heard a faint scream. A cautious man, much like his father and nothing like his hot-headed blonde wife, he started the bike, slewed it around, and raced off to the homestead where he found his fallen wife in labor. He kissed her and she whimpered but managed a smile, her blue eyes filled with tears of pain. Clinton yanked out his phone and it shot out of his grip and went flying. He cursed, grabbed it and called the nearest neighbor for help. Half an hour later Abilene Christine Clarke birthed on a gurney just outside the doors of the Moorland Hospital, 150 miles away. Georgina was homesick for her hometown and had blurted Abilene and Clinton had been rather surprised because he'd thought he and his wife had definitely decided on Ruth if it were a daughter or Tom if a son. He opened his mouth to object but then had second thoughts, thinking Abilene sounded rather cute. "Please take real care of Georgina and Abilene," he urged as he was pushed aside. One of the emergency nurses heard that and later wrote down on the name card on the cot, "Abilene. Mother Georgina Clarke'...




Aspiring Novelist Pt. 03



Mid afternoon, crying, Billie called Patricia. 

"What's wrong darling? You sound so upset."

"It's so beautiful," Billie sobbed. "Please come and tell me I'm right."

Patricia read the first draft of the two chapters. Billie was on to her second wine whereas Patricia was only one-third through hers, being so engrossed.

Putting down the printed out pages Patricia went round the table and placed her arms around Billie and kissed the top of her head.

"God you need real work done on this hair my girl."

Billie was shaking.

"Oh god, sorry Billie. "I truly believe you are correct in this assessment. This reads to me as the opening to a truly great novel. It moved me so much that I almost felt as if I'd climaxed during sex."

They fell about laughing.

When Patricia left twenty minutes later Billie went to bed and slept right through until the cries of gulls awoke her as the first signs of dawn crept into her bedroom.

She worked steadily and she thought creatively during the next few weeks and after sending off the first batch of chapters her editor for this submission, Susan Carr called her.

"We are delighted with your progress to date Billie and you are ahead of schedule. Very good."

"But?"

"This is a fresh approach to a girl and her horse attachment and ranching is appropriately in a very modern setting."

"But?"

Susan choked and Billie waited for Susan to steel herself enough to proceed.

"Billie I'd like to make a considered suggestion about names."

"Oh yes, go on," Billie said, her voice lowering ominously.

"I-I think the alliteration Clinton Clarke sounds too contrived, Georgina would be fine if Clinton became Tom or David, you know, more usual first times and as for..."

"Stop Susan. You've said enough. The names stay as they are. I was very careful to explain how my heroine receive the name Abilene and if the name Abilene changes Abilene dies and with that my novel dies."

"Billie, I don't wish to pull rank but I am your editor. You are a contracted writer with this company and have a specific performance contract with us in respect of this commissioned novel for which we have paid you a big advance."

Billie spoke clearly and carefully. "You dare touch those names Mrs Carr and your company will see no more submissions on this novel for me and that advance will be delivered back to you in one dollar bills."

Susan appeared to be fighting panic and she advised Billie to seek legal advice about her contract or at least speak to the commissioning editor Mr Allen."

"The fiction commissioning editor is Jocelyn Winter."

"Mrs Winter had been promoted to executive editor."

Billie said in surprise, "Well that's the first I've heard about that."

"Why would you expect to be informed? Mrs Winter authorized acceptance of your proposal and now that authority transferred to Mr Allen as well as all other commissioning responsibilities."

"You sound like a bean counter." 

"That comment is a little rude Billie and yes I am a qualified accountant and usually work on technical manuscripts but the fiction division is over-stretched at the moment and I was brought across to help out here. It may interest you to know that Mr Allen agrees with my opinion on names and he is a published author."

"What, travel books," Billie laughed derisively.

"Yes as a matter of fact he is a noted travel writer. I can't see anything funny about that."

"Well please tell your Mr Allen I will not agree to the names of my main characters being changed and that is the end of the matter. If my instruction is ignored you'll receive no more submissions on this project, I will return my advance and I will take my manuscript to a more accommodating publisher."

"Billie, you cannot do this. You'll be in breach of contract."

"Just report to him accurately Mrs Carr. Fight me and we'll meet in court. Goodbye.

Billie was furious but soon settled. Fuck them. The character Abilene Clark now appeared to reside in her soul and Billie was more concerned about fighting to prevent her character becoming larger than life to be engaged in petty bickering with her publisher's bean counter. She settled down to work but left her phone on.

Two hours later a tearful Mrs Carr sobbed, "Our executive chairman (Sam Sorenson) has demanded I apologize to you Billie. I sincerely apologize Billie for opposing your will and talking breach of contract to you."

"That's fine Susan and I accept your apology."

"I am to be replaced."

"Christ Susan I don't want that to happen now that you and I have hammered out an understanding. If you were thought well enough to be seconded to fiction that is acceptable to me. Put me on to Mr Allen please."

"Just a minute, he's right beside me."

"Hello Billie. Please call me Bryan. We must meet next time you're in New York and we do apologize for upsetting you."

"Thank you. I just want your assurance the names of my main characters stay unchanged."

"They certainly do. The chairman and executive editor read the first two chapters and agreed the names and the writing conform to your established style and the only name that grated with them was Abilene but agreed you had believably explained how that happened and no doubt there will be closer ties between Abilene and the City of Abilene as the novel progresses."

"Yes and that had been my intention. With that issue resolved I am happy for Mrs Carr to remain as my editor. I shall email that as a request."

"Well thank you. Is there anything else to discuss?"

"No thanks but I would like to speak to Susan."

"Sure Billie. I must say this chairman who was called in to our meeting by Mrs Winter is now likely to take close interest in you. He doubted Mrs Winter's assertion that this novel will make you our current number one best selling author." 

"She might be correct."

"Why do you say that?"

"I'm living the characters of Abilene and her famous horsewoman mother in my mind Bryan. You may not understand."

"Oh god Billie. Only a small percentage of writers can honestly claim that phenomenon. I've read about it and so probably have you to be aware of it. We must really whip up a budget proposal for the marketing of this book."

Ten weeks later Billie sent of her final chapters but that was not the end of course. She went to New York to view the mock-up of the front cover and read the blurb prepared by editor Susan Carr for the back cover and had lunch in the boardroom with Jocelyn Winter, Sam Sorenson, Susan and Ellen the new fiction commissioning editor. Ellen and Susan looked surprised to see the fuss the chairman and the executive editor made of Billie and how intimately they both knew her. In time they learned that the chairman had approached Billie on the strength of her published short story when she was at Penn University and later Jocelyn became Billie's mentor and had stayed in Southern Texas with Billie and still recalled in delight the early mornings they'd gone out fishing when the conditions were perfect.

When Ellen and Susan left to return to work, leaving the other three laughing and relaxing, Susan said, "Obviously she's the chosen one."

"Yeah but don't get catty about it. My understanding is it all goes back to her ability as a student to create an historic character and pump him so full of life that compelled Sam to go find that young author and talk to her. I know he came from Philly and heard him say he was there visiting his mother, but he still sought her out. I would think when Jocelyn received that invitation to go fishing and she told her boss about the invitation from his protégé, he would have told Jocelyn she had to go because he wanted that young author nurtured."

"I find those theories very believable Ellen. Now how can I persuade you to ask for me to be transferred to fiction permanently?"

Ellen scratched under her chin. "Perhaps to offer hosting me at a hotel for a night might move things along."

Susan gulped and said, "What kind of night did you have in mind?"

* * *

Sam Sorenson was eleven months away from turning fifty and for the first time in his life was aware of looming mortality, although he expected it to be some time off. He was the youngest chairman in the publishing company's 107-year history, succeeding his father who'd been the longest-serving chairman and who fifteen years ago had converted the family company into a public company, thereby tapping finance that allowed it to grow substantially to become a major publisher of fiction although still outside the really big league.

It had been three months since his second marriage ended, again in divorce, and both women had left him because they desired children and it appeared Sam was to blame for that failure. Sam didn't think he was to blame, both women had been two damn thin through eating next to nothing, and the breakups had occurred after he'd refused point-blank to have his potency proven by testing. Both women had refused to his suggestion to adopt children. 

During the seven days when Sam went to a health resort for his annual comprehensive medical checkup and to be pampered at the spas and health clinics and to work intensively to tone up his fitness, he thought about his next partner, unsure whether he ought to marry until the woman was pregnant... er to him.

At nights at the resort after dinner, avoiding the hapless women desiring or even desperate to be taken to bed, Sam drank iced water and drank the occasional glass of vegetable juice and drew up lists of women he knew. List one was women he'd had sex with in the past. List two was women he'd desired and were no longer married and had at least one child and were still of child-bearing age. List three was of women he desired presently married. List four was names of women who had attracted him sufficiently to remember their names.

After working on the lists between watching a program or two on TV on three evenings, Sam had pared the sixty-something names on list one down to four names and removed those names when found duplicated on the other three lists. Lists two and three ended up with two names still listed. He then worked ruthlessly on the fifty-two names on the final list. If he didn't know the whereabouts of any of those women they were deleted and then he checked each remaining woman with a desirability appraisal as being desirable to become the third live-in woman of his life. If they were or had been anorexic or looked close to it they were deleted. It they were overly plump the marker pen slashed through their name and if he had any uncertainty about their sex appeal they were slashed.

Sam looked at the only remaining name almost horrified: Billie Summers.

Christ she was just a grown up kid. Everyone would regard her as his daughter.

He raised the pen to strike through her name but his fingers froze and thoughts raced through his mind.

He'd seen her recently.

She was a great looking young woman.

She was his height, a tad over six feet.

She was sexy. Er very sexy actually.

She was tough. Look how she'd confronted head-on that editor who'd been upset at being called a bean counter and wanted the names of MCs changed.

She understood literature and was a top university graduate like himself.

She related well to young people, having relating over lunch about taking two eighteen-year-old neighbors' daughters fishing regularly. He also recalled how well she related to Celeste B. Bush and Jocelyn who was even older that Celeste appeared captivated by her as a personality.

"Jesus I can't do this," Sam. But as he rolled the four lists into a ball and tossed them into the trashcan he already knew he try to win favor with Billie.

* * *

Billie answered her phone.

"Hi it's Betty Zachariasen calling. Please wait for Mr Sorenson."

Betty who? Billie thought even if Betty repeated her surname she'd be none the wiser.

"Hi my pet genius. How is you MS coming on?"

"We are almost there Sam. I expect to get off the final fifty page proofs tomorrow. We're ahead of schedule. I'm surprised you are calling about that."

Actually it's a private call.

"Oh."

"Yeah when you were talking about the ease of fishing down where you live I got thinking and remembered I used to like fishing."

"But you haven't fished in years."

"Yeah right Billy."

"Then why don't you come right down here and out we'll go fishing, loaded with bait and beer and we'll go out as many times as you wish subject to conditions."

"Oh yeah."

"I mean it Sam. I want you down here. If you don't commit now you won't do it. You know how that works."

"Well okay. What say I hop on an airplane Friday?"

"Yes you do that."

"Book me into a hotel baby."

Billie was surprised to get a call from Sam and even more surprised to hear him call her baby. God was he on heat or whatever they called that situation for men? Oh yeah randy.

"Why a hotel; who not rough it with me?"

She heard Sam swallow and his voice turn deeper when he said, "What with you?"

Billie assumed naively she was leading the conversation, not really aware that men could also be devious as females.

"Um yes, I mean stay at my house. It's only a holiday home but better than a cabin and very comfortable. You wouldn't disturb me at work because I'm doing nothing for the next twenty-eight days but fool around."

"Fool around?"

She missed the significance of Sam choosing to pick up on that phrase. "I mean rest up. I've worked till near exhaustion five days a week for week after week and now it's time for a real break."

"Perhaps you should be left to rest alone?"

"Oh no Sam. Please come and visit."

"Oh very well. Actually the timing appears right. Yes, I would like to stay with you."

"Where would you like to sleep?"

Sam appeared hesitant, perhaps thrown by that comment. "Um what are the options?"

"There is a near derelict tiny cabin probably inhabited by rats. In the house there's the floor, three sofas, a lounge chair with built-in leg rest and two bedrooms one with two beds and the other with four bunks."

"Is that all options?"

"Apart from upstairs in the loft with me."

Sam didn't respond.

"Sam?"

"Yes."

"Does your silence mean you wish to sleep with me?" She smiled guessing he was grinning hugely.

"Yes."

"Goodbye Sam."

He cried, "Don't go."

Heart pounding and now aware she may have been set up, Billie said, "Oh Sam you naughty man. Email flight details. I'll collect you from Corpus Christi International."

The call was cut before Sam could reply. 

Billie sat back in her chair, red-faced and experiencing palpitations. God he was making a super hit on her even if he were also mildly focused on fishing. Any affair with a much older man would risk the superb relationship she'd carefully developed with the emotionally difficult Caitlin and would probably upset the much warmer Patricia. 

Their husbands would probably wonder why she hadn't chosen them if she were hankering for an older guy. Jim would frown and then return to his indifference while Gene would use it as the excuse he was looking for to drop her. Their relationship had been wearing thin anyway and the almost nightly bouts of sex were now to almost a dribble and she'd not seen him for more than a week except to exchange hand waves in the distance. She had been wondering had she upset him.

That would leave Silvana and Natalie remaining in the ring of Billie's closest community of friends. 

Billie thought optimistically Silvana would butter up to Sam and then question him about all aspects of sex and then how did young people in New York or rather Manhattan fill their leisure hours and Natalie would probably butter up to Sam to try to have sex with him because he had the looks and physique of a gigolo.

Emitting a big sigh, Billie was quite sure she'd blown it. She had been looking so forward to a glorious summer in this prime location apart from having the small airport so close. She sighed and considered relocating. It would give her aunt and uncle the chance of getting much higher summer rent.

* * *

Billie drove to the airport to meet the 1:30 arrival thinking about the sexy old devil Sam. Jocelyn had mentioned during their evening in New York at the ballet about Sam's recent divorce, his second, and that he'd complained to her drunkenly it had been the second time he'd married skin and bones and would be the last time. That was dreadful of him to talk about women like that. Perhaps he was coming to look her over as a new wife who possessed the required curves including noticeable breasts that didn't require padding! 

She giggled and thought she was dreaming if she thought Sam would be interested in her beyond nailing her in bed. 

Well if Sam really did stay with her instead insisting on staying at a hotel, thought Billie, and they had sex frequently, then she might be able to stay with him whenever she visited New York, providing it coincided with him being between girlfriends.

Smiling Billie watched him walking towards her waving. She'd prepared for the occasion, having had her blonde hair highlighted and was wearing a tight sundress with its tight built-in bra that flattened her breasts somewhat but probably made their bulk appear juicy to a guy. 

Juicy, where did that word come from? She licked her lips nervously. His light hair appeared less unruly and his tan had been artificially supplemented over winter. The poor guy's hair was thinning but in that light blue suit he was already turning the heads of a couple of women, both younger than Sam.

When Sam reached Billie his smile, the smile of a seducer, was huge and they had their first real kiss and without thinking Billie pushed her tongue into his mouth. His tongue welcomed hers, briefly, and he pulled away wiping his lips with the back of his hand and said, "Jesus Billie."

God she's acted like a whore, Billie panicked but recovered instantly. "I-I was making it clear Sam I don't want you backing off shyly. I want you in my bed and doing more than sleeping and felt the need to get my message across.

"Sam Sorenson shy? Sam appeared to savor the word as if it were quite foreign to him, with almost the interest as if just being told some foreign monarchy had offered him a knighthood for services rendered.

"Well perhaps not shyness but I bet you are filled with tender feelings and expressions."

He slipped into being the sympathetic Sam. "Oh god, you've been stewing over this haven't you, not knowing which was to turn with the people around you."

"A little like that," said the recently turned twenty-six year old, pushing an arm around Sam's arm and hooked up they began walking to collect his luggage. "But I have gained sufficient maturity to handle it appropriately."

"If I stay in the house alone with you, how will your friendly neighbors react?"

"What happens, happens," Billie said, squeezing his arm. "I'm only half your age but so what? Other people should get on with their own lives. But thanks for thinking of my situation. It tells me you do have sensitivity. It will be fine, I promise."

"I can always stay..."

"Can it Sam. You're staying with me and having sex with me. Get used to it."

They smiled as some people walking along with them move farther away. 

After Sam dropped his two bags into the Wrangler Billie said, "You drive."

"No you drive. That will allow me to look at you without crashing the vehicle."

"Are you always this agreeable?"

He said no and they laughed.

Sam cleared his throat. "There is something I should tell you. I'm forty-nine and have married twice and divorced twice."

"I have that information already thank you. What I don't know is do you really like having sex?"

"Watch that blue truck."

"Where?"

He pointed.

She scoffed, "It's stopped." 




Aspiring Novelist Pt. 03



Billie grinned aware he'd just fended off a very personal question. "Do you want me to stop in the middle of the road and test you sexually?"

"Billie for goodness sake. Just drive. Yes I enjoy sex usually and if I'm with the right person, and that's rare, I love wallowing in it."

"Thank you. I would have appreciated a straight answer at the outset."

"God Billie, I've not seen this tougher side of you. Little wonder you excel with your protagonists."

"If that is indeed a genuine compliment then I thank you."

"Sam let me talk to you seriously. I know you've had to work hard to get where you are today even when Under a Tree Publishing was a family businesses but I suspect your father would have thought it was his duty to drive you along to avoid sneers that you were protected as daddy's boy. And it can't have been fun chalking up two failed marriages. So while I have you down here I require you to act like the inhabitants who largely are laid back and don't load themselves with other people's problems, although they will willingly help out, and they generally don't think about things that could be put off to worry about some other day perhaps soon. They focus on food and drink, companionship, the weather and tides and what's on TV or jumping into the vehicle and boat to go somewhere because that's a perfect use of a boat or a vehicle."

"I see. Well that's an accurate assessment of my life, so well done. I'm here to relax and ever since we talked about me coming down here I've thought two or three times a day about fishing and several times when on the airplanes. I believe I'm set in vacation mood."

"Good."

"Let's pull off up ahead for a drink with a burger."

"I'd love a beer."

"That's my boy."

Billie hadn't told anyone she would be having a houseguest. She thought she'd drive in as quietly as she could and steer Sam inside and have him to herself for the remainder of the day.

But not to be.

At loose for the summer until starting college in September, Silvana and Natalie had temporary jobs as wait staff from late afternoons Thursday through to Sundays, and spent most of their free time running wild or hanging about bored.

Natalie, who was big into drama and would be studying it at college, was sitting on the entry steps to Billie's home, dressed in a bikini top and denim cut-offs tight enough to have been hers four years ago before curves began developing. She was idly hitting her bare feet with a stick and continued that while looking at the arrival of the Wrangler. Her head really shot up when she noticed there was a passenger and peering she saw he was male, probably Billie's father.

Natalie swaggered over to the vehicle with excessive hip sway.

"Hi mommy, is this my daddy?"

She saw Billie bite her lip and glare and her father looked shocked.

"My parents kicked me out of home this morning after catching me with four guys in my bed."

Billie was now looking at her murderously while the guy was grinning, obvious guessing this was a put-on. 

Billie yelled, "Natalie please stop this stupid behavior and meet my houseguest Mr Sorenson."

"Hi Natalie. Billie has told me she has two much younger friends. You were so convincing you had me going there for a few seconds."

"Hi Mr Sorenson. Are you related to Billie?"

"No, I'm her publisher."

"Omigod I had no intention of embarrassing Billie in front of her publisher or embarrassing her publisher."

"It's fine. I was warned you were lively and a little wacky only I didn't know whether we were being met by Natalie or um Silvana."

"Silvana and her mom and my mom have gone to the mall in Corpus. I'm sick of wandering around shops without real spending money and was hoping Billie would take me fishing because the tide is good but she was out. It's not like Billie to go off without saying anything and as for not saying she was having a houseguest... oh god, you have lined her up for a dirty weekend."

"Yes good guess Natalie."

Billie croaked, "Oh god."

"I am so pleased Mr Sorenson. Billie has been working off her ass for your guys because of the tight deadlines. She needs lots of rest and lots of loving."

"Okay so you know the score Nat. There's no need to tell anyone um apart from Silvana is there?" Sam said getting out of the vehicle and then handing one of his bags to Natalie.

"Oh no, of course not and I'll tell Silvana to keep her mouth shut and to just let other people guess. It ought to be all right apart from your age because other guys have slept over with Billie."

Billie groaned another oh god.

"You are very adroit managing to muzzle me like that Mr Sorenson."

"That may be so but my big question is can I trust you with that information Natalie?"

"Absolutely. Oh we don't call friends using honorifics around here so what's it to be?"

"Please call me Sam."

"God, Sam and Billie. Awesome. Come in Sam, the door will be unlocked but we never enter uninvited."

"In you go Natalie, you're invited," Billie said behind them, sounding very weary.

"Look why don't the three of us go out fishing now Sam? Billie has rigged a third seat on her flat-bottom."

"She is referring to the boat Sam."

That had the three of them laughing and Natalie said she'd pack the bait and the beer. "You guys get changed or do you want to have sex first?"

"Sex while you wait impatiently Nat?" Sam said. "I don't think so because that could entice premature ejaculation."

Billie groaned while Natalie laughed and said already she really liked Sam because he had great humor.

"Billie usually has great humor but appears really tied up this afternoon. It must be the pressure of having failed to sneak you in here undetected."

"You are one bright young lady Nat," Sam said, cuffing her lightly over an ear.

She obviously really liked his response. When thanking him for the compliment she sucked her thumb and called him daddy. Billie was horrified. What had happened to her sweet Natalie?

The weather was settled and they went out in calm afternoon conditions. Billie was doubtful whether they would catch fish and said she favored early mornings.

"If Billie can't hook a fish even in these conditions I say no one else in the Copano fishery will be landing anything right now," Natalie said, tipping her bottle to swig some beer. "Does anyone mind if it remove my top?"

"No," Sam said.

"Yes," Billie shouted above the noise of the motor.

Natalie grinned and said she was just testing.

Natalie moved forward from her chair and lay on her front on a towel and undid her bikini top but kept her breasts conceal and she worked on her tan.

Sam sitting beside Billie who was at the wheel said, "That's some sexy girl."

"It's only just started. Some guy at the fast food restaurant where she's working has been getting his fill and heightened her sexual awareness. This transformation that is occurring has been fascinating to watch. It's happening with Silvana too and I actually saw Silvana kissing her mother the other day."

"So she had lesbian tendencies."

"Hell no," Billie said, trying to keep her voice down. "Far from it. She's with a guy who can't keep his eyes off her breasts and butt. Up to three months ago mother and daughter had been fighting like cat and dog. I gave the mother Caitlin my copy of my final manuscript of 'Wretched Rachel' to read and it knocked the mother between the eyes and she did a u-turn to take a new approach with her daughter and slowly they progressed out of the Dark Ages. That's why when I looked across when coming out of my house and saw them in the kitchen kiss, oblivious to the world, tears came to my eyes. It was so beautiful and so rewarding to see them like that."

"I've heard people speaking highly of 'Wretched Rachel' and of you."

Natalie called, "I can hear what you two oldies are saying about Silvana and me and Billie what you said is probably true. Ralph is behaving like a randy bull with Silvana but you are probably not aware her married manager is also fucking her while his wife is at home with their two little kids. That is so fucking disgusting."

Billie was shocked. She cut the motor and shouted, "Lines out everyone."

She told Sam they usually caught redfish, drum, speckled trout and flounder in the bay. "Natalie's father takes us up to a mile offshore in his 28-footer deep-V boat where we get into various types of shark, grouper, kingfish and snapper, When he and his pals get serious and go many miles out on a charter with a guide they pull in tuna, Spanish mackerel, really big sharks and even the occasional marlin. That's why I keep friendly with my over-talkative companion here... to have her father take me out blue water fishing."

"Liar you keep me around you to covet my body. I'll ask dad to take you two out. Sam watch Billie, she'd oversexed."

They caught seven redfish, keeping five and then Billie hooked something really big.

"Here take my rod and catch a real fish Sam."

He took the rod and asked what was it.

"Perhaps a shark but perhaps a really big black drum."

Billie smiled, watching the face of a relaxing guy now reacting much like an excited boy. She felt very happy and although rather cross about Natalie's unladylike behavior thought that Sam didn't appear to mind, in fact seemed rather taken by the eighteen-year-old. That made Billie realize she was looking at people and distractions deeper in an effort to extract better subject material and better understanding and that must make her a better writer. She's been aware of profound influence in her brief association under the aura that appeared to surround Celeste and now it seemed the door had really opened wide for her.

Yes how strange. She was seeing things like she'd never comprehended before. Her young neighbor Jim, although he no longer lived at home, was a lot like his father although more confident and ambitious and certainly, thanks to his parents, much better educated. Similarly Silvana was far more open as a person and therefore much further advanced that her mother who was ensnared by moral and religious issues about which she appeared confused. Patricia was better educated than Caitlin and more worldly and yet as a personality Natalie was already more outgoing than her mother and would probably soon become aware she had outgrown her environment, finding it too restrictive, and after college was destined to move on.

The fish was close enough to see.

"It's not a shark, I think it's a very large black drum. If so it will be female. What do you want to do?"

"You said we had enough for the table, four for us and six for Nat's family."

"Yes and so?"

"We'll release it. Is that what you would have done?"

"Yes." Billie said, pulling on gloves and wetting them in seawater, a measure to give the fish an increased chance of survival by removing as little as possible of the protective slime on it's body. She picked up the device to facilitate a less destructive method of removing hooks. "It's the biggest drum I've seen caught in this bay," Natalie said. "Good boy."

"Yes I concur on both those comments," Billie said, taking the line extending from the rod and hauling up the fish to place it on a plastic bag. My guess is eleven to twelve pounds."

"Wow," Sam said, thumping his chest in pride.

After they watched the freed fish swim off Billie looked at her watch and said they must get head home. Natalie had to be at work in thirty minutes.

"Oh god, work," Natalie sighed. "I've had so much fun with you guys. You know Sam you seem heaps younger than my dad."

"Having younger woman with me makes me act younger," Sam said, placing his arm around Billie's shoulder as she started the outboard motor and smiled. 

"It's been great having you with us Natalie. Do you want to come out with us in the morning?"

"Nah you won't be fishing. I figure the curtains at your house will be across for the next couple of days."

Gunning the motor Billie shouted, "A lovely romantic thought darling but I have no wish to send Sam home a wreck. Invite your family over for dinner tomorrow evening and I'll also have the Struther's join us. I may as well get Sam introduced to everyone in one hit. We'll have a cookout, the weather is expected to be favorable, much like today."

As soon as she was inside Billie locked the door and asked Sam to switch off his phone and she switched off her phone and pulled out the connection for the house phone.

Sam licked his lips.

"Come to bed tiger," Billie said, grabbing him by the belt and hauled him to the narrow stairway against the far wall that led to the loft.

Nude and lean, Sam looked in good shape for a guy almost fifty. He leaned his back against the wall, there being no bed head, and held a handful of Billie's hair nervously as she rasped her teeth along his erection until she hit the collar of the head.

When she began bobbing up and down on it she looked up awkwardly and he mouthed kisses. Later she crawled up him dripping semen and had him gripping the sheet tightly as she kissed him open mouthed, allowing semen to dribble into his mouth. If he was revolted he didn't say so.

Minutes later he had two fingers up her beside his dick with Billie screaming and bouncing, making it hard going for him.

They stopped.

"What was that?"

Sam said someone's banging on the door.

"Leave it, they'll go away. Get back to my expectant pussy please dear man."

Huge thumping sounded.

"Oh god, my vehicle. They'll see it and know I'm home. I'll have to go down and shout go away, that I have a fever, um a contagious fever."

Billie went down the steep stairs as fast as she could yelling, "I'm coming" and thinking well she would be within the next half-hour if these morons would go away.

The banging stopped.

"Billie?" called a voice.

"Mom," yelled Billie.

"Open this door or I'll smash through it," yelled her agitated father.

"Omigod look at you, disheveled and perspiring. You have a fever poor girl," said her mother, looking at her daughter who had her hands over her vulva to hide the incriminating evidence.

Janice then saw the upstanding nipples and then said appalled, Oh god, we've interrupted you playing with yourself."

"N-no mom," Billie said, glancing up at the loft.

"Obviously she has a young guy here with her," Casper said. "They are humping Janice and we have interrupted them. Billie we were worried because we have called you several times without getting through. Your phone was off. Late this morning when we failed to get through we decided to come over to check out the situation."

Backing over to the table to grab something to cover herself with Billie said, "I've had the phone off while I was writing and now I've finished I've had it off much of the time to allow me to relax in peace. I told you guys to call me at nights."

"We forgot," said her mother looking at the stairway. Sam was coming down in just in his underpants and the darling was carrying a sheet.

In absolute silence the parents watched Sam wrap their daughter in the sheet, taking in the fact that the guy was almost as old as Casper. They did not appear impressed.

"Mom dad, how lovely of you to drop by and how convenient because you can meet my friend Sam Sorenson.

"I think you are rather old for my daughter," Casper said, straightening his shoulders and crackling his knuckles.

"Casper shut up and behave yourself," Janice said. "That name Sam Sorenson. You are boss of Billie's publishing firm aren't you?"

"Huh, well he ought to stick to publishing," Casper growled.

At that the tension collapsed and the others laughed and finally Casper laughed. He was sure nothing he'd said was funny.

"Hi Mrs Summers. You will be aware I have known Billie for a very long time. Since her sophomore year in fact."

"Yes of course and now I've got used to the idea I feel she has every reason to be grateful to you."

"I've never heard of a woman being that grateful?" Casper wheezed.

The others laughed and turning serious Sam shook Casper's hand more than firmly and said, "These are rather unusual circumstances in which to meet sir."

"Well yes pal. Fetch us a couple of beers Billie and then go and get dressed. How old are you pal?"

"Forty-nine."

"Well I suppose that better than being fifty or fifty-something."

He mom fussed straightening the tablecloth. "Fetch at bottle of wine for us darling, there's no necessity to race off to dress. You probably need a shower anyway."

Later that evening Billie invited Sam to enter her without protection unless he thought it necessary, saying she was on the pill.

"God I'm still in shock after being exposed as an elderly seducer of your parents beloved child and your mom saying to me before they went into their bedroom that I was not to worry rattling the bedsprings."

"My mom said that?"

"Yep."

"God she must be thinking of having a go at you herself."

Sam's confidence nose-dived and he lost most of his erection but quickly assessing the situation Billie worked and got him rock-hard.

Later when Sam rolled over she reached for her writer's log on the bedside cabinet and noted the events since 2:00 that day that might be useful to work into a novels. There were heaps of filled pages and she devoted a full page to detail coitus interruptus.

After that she sighed and smiled herself to sleep. 

Casper climbed the stairway heroically with two coffees to awake them next morning at 5:30.

"Come on you two, almost time to go fishing. I see there's now a third seat rigged up on the boat."

Janice and Casper stayed another three nights.

Two days after that Billie took Sam to the airport for his return to New York.

"I've had the best seven-day vacation in memory," he said, kissing Billie. "I meant what I said about inviting you to move in with me."

"That was a very kind and exciting invitation but I did say I'd wait a few days before thinking about it seriously."

"Well I won't have a happy time until you arrive."

"Nonsense. Continue your normal life and your wicked ways. In a few days I'll call to say I'm not coming or alternatively I'll ask you a question."

"What question?"

"You'll know when I ask it."

"Very well. I can handle it. Actually that gap will give me a few days to think everything through."

"Yeah right. Well there's your final call. Off you go Sam. You are a great guy."

"Thanks for your brilliant hospitality."

Natalie and Silvana were waiting on the steps for Billie when she returned.

"We're here to comfort you and to cry with you," Silvana said. Natalie already looked tearful."

"None of that crap you guys. We're going fishing. Eat with me tonight. Sam gave me his mom's recipe for lightly curried fish. I'd like to try that. It's a Thai recipe and is ready in twenty minutes."

"How can you think of food in the wake of this huge tragedy," Natalie said, weeping.

"God Natalie is isn't over yet between Sam and me. I'm thinking about his invitation to move in with him in New York."

"Oh god no you can't do that," Natalie shrieked. Silvana held her and now both were crying.

"God whoever said Texan women were tough," Billie grinned. "Fishing is off. Come in and drink some wine and we'll talk about sex. I'll begin by telling you about Sam and me having sex the first night of his arrival."

"But sex is sex. What's new about sex?" Silvana asked.

"Please excuse my friend," Natalie said. "She still has sex insisting she must keep her panties on."

Oh it was such an honor being privy to the opening world of teenagers finding their way to the door of adulthood, Billie smiled. Yes she was so privileged being allowed to hone her knowledge and understanding of younger people.

 Billie figured 9:30 would be one of the pressure times of the working day for a company senior executive so called at 9:30.




Aspiring Novelist Pt. 04



As soon as the TV crew cleared up and left the real party was underway just as Patricia and Billie returned from taking Mandy to the airport. 

"Why was Mandy jumping and yelling after being on the phone after closing the interview," Natalie asked.

Her mother said, "Mandy told us in the car that was her producer telling Mandy it was her best interview in the four years she'd been with the show."

"Well I thought the staging was excellent and Mandy was really great not sticking to the script and thus allowing the interview to flow naturally," said Natalie, a college-bound drama student.

There was much kissing and crying when Billie left the party at 1:00. She refused to allow anyone to take her to the airport saying she had a cab booked to get her into Corpus Christi in time for the flight at 6 am.

Billie left on the flight to Dallas where she decided to change the next leg of her flight to New York to somewhere else. During the flight she looked at a map intently and couldn't really decide so thought she'd chose a most unlikely place for her to spend summer. Her finger fell on South Dakota and at the airline's desk in Dallas converted her ticket to be flown to Sioux Falls.

CHAPTER 6

Billie had heard of the name Sioux Falls, but that's all. On the flight she learned more about the city from a brochure she'd picked up at a travel desk at Dallas-Fort Worth International.

It proved to be a long day for her. She arrived at the city at 7:30, thirteen and a half hours after leaving Corpus Christi. She booked into a hotel and after eating a hamburger went to bed.

On the third day of looking round the city Billie went bus to Rapid City in the south-west, a journey of interest that took her across much of South Dakota to the famous Black hills. The assistant hotel manager she had dinner with at the hotel on the second night there was from Rapid City and said with Billie wanting to find peace and quiet she was more likely to find it more appealing there than in Sioux Falls.

Billie stayed at a hotel in and next day replied to an advertisement in the Rapid City Journal about a large bedroom with sitting room and bathroom available for rent. Arrangements could be made to eat with the family. She went out by cab with her two bags to the home of a recently retired couple overlooking Arrowhead Country Club and liked what she saw.

"I'll take it. It's just what I hoped to find. You have a beautiful home."

"Well are you sure."

"Yes Mrs Meade. I'll take it now. I have my bags with me."

"Um do you have references?"

"No sorry. I left that stuff at home back in Texas. Perhaps I could call me mom and let you speak to here."

"But Miss Summers I don't know your mother or anything about you."

"I noticed one of my books on the table in your TV room."

"By god, she is THE Billie Summers," Mr Meade laughed. "You best call me Harry young woman."

""Now hold on there," Amelia said suspiciously.

"Mrs Meade, ask me any question you wish about 'Wretched Rachel' and if I'm unable to answer it I shall leave immediately."

"Fetch me the book Harry. The author's photo is on the back cover."

"I have my driver's license to prove who I am."

"No the book Harry."

He returned with the book grinning and said to his wife she'd always wanted a paying guest who was famous."

"Oh my lord, it is you. My dear a thousand apologies."

"It's okay, I realize one can never be too careful about admitting people into their home."

"I'm glad you understand Billie. Please call me Amelia."

Moving to ease the woman's embarrassment Billie said, "You have such a pretty and enduring name."

"I'll get used to Billie," Amelia smiled.

Finalizing terms of occupancy Billie opted to have all means with Harry and Amelia.

"Our daughter Robin is around your age and will be here soon to look you over," Amelia said candidly. "She's twenty-six and our grandson is eight months and Robin is married to Kevin who is an executive in banking but not as senior as our son who is CEO in the company's he's with."

Amelia's rapid tongue was a warning to Billie to be careful what she said to Amelia particularly as she'd already decided to try to have her growing celebrity status ignored in this community. By maintaining a low profile she'd have more time to spend on research and on writing.

Robin arrived with the baby who was very cute and a Mrs Moorhead from next-door came over to see the baby. Billie has left the room by then to find Harry to ask if he could help her choose a vehicle to buy, a pre-used vehicle preferably."

He grinned but didn't share the joke and said he'd grab a jacket and take her somewhere if she was ready to buy. 

"Yes please Harry."

Billie went into the living room and Mrs Moorhead looked at her and gasped and said, "Omigod, Billie Summers. Omigod. I watched you on TV the night before last and can't wait to get your new book 'Horsewoman' that I've preordered."

"Oh Billie this is my dear neighbor Mrs Moorhead who is president of the local writer's club. You have 120 members don't you Nancy?"

"Almost 150 Amelia."

"Hi Mrs Moorhead."

Mrs Moorhead insisted Billie called her Nancy and immediately turned the screw to allow her to submit to the club committee to invite Billie to become an honorary club member and to invite her to be a guest speaker."

"Yes I'll speak to your club and pay my membership like everyone else."

"Oh no Billie, a distinguished writer like yourself must be elevated to honorary membership along with our former presidents and patrons. Eleven of our members are published novelists but their books are not marketed nation-wide as yours are."

"But I'm relatively insignificant on the scale of sales nationally."

"Well 'Horsewoman' will change that. I heard on book news on radio this morning that your publisher, Under the Tree Publishing has been swamped by orders for Horsewoman and is handing out contracts to printers on the West Coast and in Chicago and Dallas. She quoted from a press statement put out by your publisher this morning that orders from on-sellers in Texas in particular have gone through the roof and the presenter of the radio program said she'd just finished a pre-lease copy and predicted sales will be in the hundreds of thousands, perhaps exceeding a million."

Billie turned while and collapsed into a chair. "Omigod this is awful. I wanted to begin my new novel here but now my publisher will be lining me up for promotional appearances. I cam here to lie low and still could manage that. It would help Nancy is would could delay saying anything about me but I promise eventually to accept honorary membership and speak to your club, perhaps in three months' time.

Excited conversation followed and then as it was dying Robin asked, "What is you new novel called?"

"I only have the working title and haven't written a word or drafted a story line yet. It was something that began appearing in my mind and I based my title on that. It's called 'Woman on a Swing'."

Amelia and Nancy glanced at one another.

"What, have you read a book with that title?"

"No Billie," said Nancy but our friend Dorothy Manning has a painting in her lounge done by her daughter when she was a senior fine arts student. It's of Dorothy on a swing with a crown of flowers in her hair."

Billie said what a coincidence and added Harry was taking her in to the city to buy a car.

"What a coincidence," Amelia laughed and the others laughed but Billie saw nothing funny in what she'd just said.

Harry stopped opposite the big dealership and pointed at it with pride. "That business was founded by my father, starting with a small yard crammed with a dozen vehicles and a near collapsing caravan was his office. Then I succeeded him and last year my son took over the day to day running of the business."

Harry drove across into the huge yard and parked in a prime space marked Chairman.

"Let's see what best buy I can get you interested in and then we'll see what discount the pre-used department is offering," said the chairman. "What have you been driving?"

"A Jeep Wrangler."

"Good because you'll find 4-wheel drive useful in this territory if you intend moving about in the hills and it's highly recommended if you intend being here over winter."

"That sounds good advice."

"We have a bit of everything here, received a trade-ins, but most of it I'd use caution. I say know the owner and you'll know the vehicle."

"What about that 2006 Jeep Liberty over there, the white one?"

"Oh I say, top choice. Jack Fish has owned that since new. Ignore the price sticker because I can get it for you better than that. So nineteen grand is within your price range?"

"Yes."

"Well since you are living with us and we have a spare space in the garage, I'd like to put a honey like you in a vehicle that reflects your style. Look two down from the Liberty."

"Oh that real cool Infiniti?"

"Yes an ex-demonstrators that had since been owned by our new sales manager's wife. It's a 2006 Infiniti FX all-wheel drive and the ticket will say almost $26,000. What say if I can screw Jacki the pre-used manager to drop the price down to $20,000?"

"Let's take it for a test drive and then I'll make my choice."

An hour later after having kissed Harry in front of the company's giggling sales manager Billie drove him home in her $19,995 Infiniti and was so happy.

After returning back home with Amelia, who'd insisted on being driven around to perimeter of the two golf courses and then declaring it was a great buy, Billie went to her room, turned her phone on and found three messages from the marketing director of Under the Tree Publishing. She called Mrs Morgan who invited Billie to call her Jane.

"We are up to our necks in preorders for your latest book."

"So you want me to go on promotional tour?"

"Hell no, are you crazy? We are already negotiating for five additional printers to output 'Horsewoman'. No this is to talk with you about the media frenzy. I have thirty-one people from the media wishing to interview you including from two top magazines."

"What I suggest you rank them in your preferred order and for the next twenty days I'll be available, day or night to talk to them. But they'll have to come to me."

"Well that's no problem Billie. You're in New York aren't you?"

"No in Rapid City."

"Where on earth is that?" asked the New Yorker.

"In South Dakota in the Black Hills quite near to Wyoming."

"Oh Christ, you can't remain holed up out there."

"I am and I can. I chose where I wish to live, not the media."

Jane sounded close to blowing a head of steam. 

"Jane let's try this: if they want me you tell them where to find me and schedule their appointment time to avoid overlaps and advise me. Any time and day you set within that 20-day period beginning from tomorrow will be fine. If none of them want to come here then I'll come to New York for two days but please don't tell them that immediately... save it as a reason to call them back in a few days. If a few of the major publications journalists agree to come here then forget about the minnows. As I say, if they want me they will be told where to find me. Here are my details."

After noting the details Jane said she couldn't see Billie's concept working.

"I say this kindly Jane, you have a commercial brain that suits your marketing role. These journalists will be feature writers and possibly with romantic notions of having to cross most of America to find me holed up and being feted by the local writers club and when I tell them my upcoming novel is likely to be called 'Woman on a Swing' they will view this as so cute and folksy they'll write so sweetly and whimsically that Under the Tree Publishing will think it has a possible idyllic blockbuster coming up."

"You ought to be in marketing Billie."

"I'll leave that to people like you Jane. I'm a lazy romantic who likes to watch butterflies flitter."

"Oh god you sound so incredibly lovely Billie. When we heard that you almost removed your editor's head we all thought you must be such a bitch."

"I'm beginning to think I'm all things to all people Jane. Oh next time you are having sex do it with a flower stalk between your teeth and see where that takes you and your lover."

"Oh god, I must try that Jane. Have you any more great tips for the bedroom?"

"Bye Jane.""

Ending that call Billie thought it seemed incredible that aged twenty-five it appeared she'd just written a top-seller... er... and in the top league seller. And for the second time she'd given much older women advice off the top of her head that appeared to hold them in awe of her. She must stop doing that otherwise people would really expect her to know everything and be invincible. Every author has at least one book that bombs. Would 'Woman on a Swing' bomb."

She went next-door to tell Nancy Whitehead that an author's tour was not being considered and Under the Tree Publishing would be informing journalists wishing to interview her where she was living.

"So feel free to invited me to speak to members of your club any time you wish subject to you checking times and dates with me."

"It will be a luncheon."

"Oh good. People listen better once they've eaten."

"Oh yes I suppose they do. You appear to know an awful lot for one so young Billie."

"I've always been good about what I have been told about looking and listening carefully Nancy."

"Oh yes, I remember my mother and her mother telling me that as a child. I suppose I took some notice of them. Um please stay for a drink. My husband Anthony will be home soon and I'll call Harry and Amelia over. God I live the sleek lines of your new car."

"Yes I see it as being powerfully feminine."

"Oh I suppose I do too."

The next day Billie went into the city to hire a financial adviser to sort out her financial affairs. She believed she had far too much money sitting in her two bank accounts and had several investments. Clutching her larger handbag crammed with documents relating to her finances and investments she walked into the offices of Arthur J. Jones and Associates, business and financial planning consultants.

"Yes miss," said the young receptionist.

"I'd like a sexy consultant to manage me please."

Giggling the twenty-year-old said, "We are business and financial consultants, not one of those sex places."

"Oh darling, you have lovely humor. You choose a consultant for me, er one who is available."

The receptionist whispered, "Doug Mann is our only sexy consultant in my opinion."

"Then whistle him up please."

The receptionist made a call to Mr Mann about a possible new client wanting to see him."

Billie strained and heard him say, "Invite her to make an appointment to see me."

"She looks very sexy."

"I'll be right out."

A door down the corridor opened and a thirty-year-old with broad shoulders and messy brown hair strode out, looked at Billie and gaped... "Miss Billie Summers I presume?"

"Yes so you read my books?"

"No but my mother does. I have often looked at your picture on the back cover and had wild thoughts about you. Most female authors appear to shave."

"Oh most of us shave Mr Mann but I leave my face unshaven."

Mr Mann swung his reddening face at the giggling receptionist and then apologized in a mumble, "Apologies for somehow becoming rather too personal."

"Excuse me I didn't quite hear what you were saying; you mumbled."

"Come through Miss Summers and I'll repeat my apology as it's quieter in my office."

Billie winked at the receptionist and followed her new consultant.

"Well what do you think Doug?"

He removed his reading glasses, belched rudely and said, "To be frank I agree with you. You have money, a rather large amount in fact, here there and everywhere. As you said it's a bit of a mess."

"And"

"I cannot give you advice until you sign on. It's office protocol."

"Be a rebel Doug. Use the f-word about protocol and give me a piece of advice to convince me to hire you as my consultant."

"You appoint professional people; you don't hire them."

"Are we to quibble over wording?" Billie said easily and Doug grinned.

"I can see why my mother likes your writing. You have quite a way with you. Okay, my thinking is sell your oil shares will oil is sky oil. They will fall and probably very heavily at the next downturn and the last sector in oil to recover will be the value of prospecting stock."

"Oh that's very impressive advice I think. At least I understand your logic. Where do I sign to hire you... on your shirt front?"

"I'll make out the form now for you to sign."

"And prepare the authority that allows you to buy and sell stock on my behalf but with my written instructions that may be emailed to you?"

Doing some of the paperwork Doug said, "Yes and what do we do with this money from the sale of the oil stock?"

"We do nothing until you present me with a proposal."

"Excellent thinking although I could not have moved on your behave without having done that."

"Do you date?"

The pen froze and Doug said, "Excuse me."

"Do you date?"

"I'm married and take my wife out if that's what you mean."

"Um yes, that's what I did mean."

When the meeting ended Billie said goodbye but more or less slunk out of the office, having difficulty to believe she could have fouled up on such a basic. Her married consultant had said he'd call her when he had a about a consolidated investment proposal to present to here. That was likely to occur within two days.

Returning home Billie booted her laptop and found two interviews had been booked for the day after tomorrow and three the following day.

Jane wrote: 'It's unbelievable that so far only one publication has refused to send its journalist to you. The others appear to think the expense and time involved is worth it because you are hot. Good luck.'

Billie told Harry and Amelia during dinner about the interviews and Amelia said it would be fine for Billie to use their lounge for that or to use the garden but Billie said no it would be fine. If it were wet or windy she'd go to their hotel or to a restaurant if the visiting journalist was making a flying visit. Could you two take me into the city tomorrow and show my parks and other places of interest where I could be interviewed and photographed.

"Oh sure," Harry said. "There are some great places in the business district and you would have seen street benches and if you wish to be interviewed in any of the galleries or tourist stores just say the word and I'll pave the way for you and most of the store owners and gallery owners and profession people know me because I've been in business here since dad appointed me manager of vehicle spare parts when I was seventeen years of age."

The first interview was with a feature writer and photographer from a New York daily newspaper and the afternoon interview was with a writer and photographer from a national women's magazine. Billie found it so easy because she'd decided not to attempt to give a fresh interview each time but leave it to the journalists to attempt to be individually slanted to extract information that suited the style of their publication. It was easy for here to answer questions and she did work to be lively, thoughtful and refreshing. It appeared to work.

Doug had called early afternoon and she went to his office by appointment at 5:00 after completion of the second interview.

Billie sighed the authority for Doug to arrange the sale of her oil stock and then discussed the options on the investment schedule he'd proposed and she then settled on the options she would follow. With that done she agreed his future involvement would be limited to a six monthly review unless her financial circumstances or wider economic stability changed dramatically. She left the office feeling not only more financially secure but more fiscally responsible through now having her growing wealth under management. She then chose a local attorney and a local accountant from the short list of names Doug had recommended.




Aspiring Novelist Pt. 04



Only four more journalists arrived to interview Billie but she thought that was enough and she was pleased the local media had ignored her because that allowed her to maintain a reasonable level of privacy. She still was surprised at the number of people, mainly women, who recognized her and spoke to her about her writings. It was time to get back to work.

Once a week Harry and Amelia performed what they called their Sunday drive and invited Billie to accompany them. They would pack lunch and went somewhere, usually anywhere they'd not been to for sometime. Rather than visit people they visited places and crisss-crossing of recent routes was unavoidable. They'd done Sunday drives for forty-two years, Amelia said proudly but Billie failed to see why pride should be used to conceal the monotony of regular pattern, she being somewhat nomadic. But she became to learn why. The couple were hugely familiar with their environment and its history within one hundred and fifty miles of their home as a result of Sunday driving, for what that was worth. 

For what that was worth? Examining that thought Billie concluded it was superior to being ignorant or totally ignorant about one's environment and wondered if that was a theme for a novel. Probably. But was she interested? Probably not. She sighed looking at the scenery during the Sunday drive, recognizing some but when Harry turned off that highway she recognized she was in unfamiliar territory. Billie was beginning to worry about her proposed theme of Woman on a Swing. There was an email from her commissioning editor simply asking, 'Would appreciate advice on progress on your new proposal. We must maintain momentum.' 

Girl on a Swing sounded very Victorian. Her genre was fiction and so could be anything. But Victoria? Billie was adamant: she was a 'now' writer. She sighed and clicked her teeth fearful she was becoming bored. Oh god she had slipped into a hole.

In the hills they arrived at a little town. The general impression was it looked jaded, confirmed for Billie when she heard Harry say quietly, "This place has slipped back since we last visited."

It was misty rather than raining so rather than sit on a fallen tree or a bench in a park to drink coffee Billie said, "Come on guys let me buy you coffee."

"Thank you darling," Amelia said. "I can remember when Clearwater used to be a vibrant, picturesque community."

"Well it's Sunday," Billie comforted.

Amelia sighed and said it would have only been Sundays when they'd visited in the past.

The serving woman looked tired and had no other custom.

"Hi," she greeted smiling and said, "Lo strangers cometh but where are the citizens?"

Amelia and Harry looked startled but Billie was intrigued.

"Why do you greet us in the manner?"

"Oh because of fading times I guess. I was thinking you are my only customers so far today and yet a few years back, quite a few years in fact, I would have been one of four of my mother's assistants and we would have served perhaps forty people by this time on a Sunday morning, all of them locals."

Billie dimly heard the other three chatting. She was almost in a trance, a theme for a new novel roaring zipping through her mind and the spinning letters slowly formed into its title, Fading Times. She'd been thinking Demise of a Community but then thought Fading Times was brilliant, being much more subtler than a title like Demise of a Community that had an overtone of recent execution whereas the demise would have crept forward like expanding moss. 

Omigod.

As they were leaving Billie said, "I'm a writer..."

"I know that dear but can't remember your name. My daughter sends me a book every couple of months or so. I've read and still possess your biography on Celeste Bush and I really enjoyed 'Wretched Rachel."

"May I come back and talk to you. That greeting you gave us did something to me. It's inspired me and I think I've found the setting for my new novel I'm under pressure from my publisher to start."

"My god, I knew you'd be a romantic person. You'd have to be to see a novel arising from Clearwater. Look why don't you come and stay with me and my husband and talk about this. Dirk is a park ranger and generations of his family have lived in this area. My grandfather arrived here via Chicago from Scotland and my mother's family is from Ohio so are classified as latecomers."

"Oh thank you and I insist on paying for lodgings and meals. When may I come?"

"Whenever you wish. As you can see I'm not overstretched."

"Tomorrow night?"

"Oh my, you are keen. Yes that would be lovely. My name is Mira Jackson."

"I'm Billie Summers."

"Oh yes hat's it. I had a vague feeling you name had some connection with seasons."

As Harry drove slowly through the quiet town's main street Amelia said, "What were you talking to that woman about?"

Amelia was so rude at times although generous, Billie thought, before saying, "A novel."

"But you try to avoid talking to people about your work?"

"Well she's given me a novel."

"What, where is it? I didn't see you carrying it."

"The theme for a novel."

"Sorry about the interrogation," Harry said. "You're going to write about Clearwater aren't you?"

"That's very perceptive of you Harry. Yes I think so. She has invited me to stay with her and her husband tomorrow night and perhaps I'll stay a few days."

"God Billie are you out of your mind. No one would read a novel about a dump like that town."

Billie was looking ahead between the front seats and looked up into the rear vision mirror just as Harry looked into the mirror. He winked.

Amelia fell asleep on the return home. Harry said quietly, "I suppose you know novels have been written about this area?"

"Yes and one of the notable ones relates some of the history of Deadwood. The author Pete Dexter brought alive Wild Bill Hickok, Calamity Jane and um..."

"Charles Utter."

"... yes, as principal characters in that novel."

"So you will write about what's happening today and only skim on history and invent a new name for Clearwater?"

"That's my thinking."

Lowering her voice Billie said, "Harry, why is it you two talk about your daughter and grandchild often and never mention your son?"'

Harry glanced at the sleeping Amelia and said, "Our son's name is Walton and I see him whenever I go to the dealership and that's often and we sometimes lunch together. He lived with us until recently, in the area you now occupy. Well around two months ago we came back from a Sunday drive early because Amelia was not feeling well. She came into the house and found Walton screwing one of Amelia's friends on Amelia's best sofas. Both were nude and Amelia lost it completely and ordered them both to leave the house. She's since made up with her friend who everyone knows is a sexual predator but Walton was mad at her for humiliating them both and there is, as they say, a substantial gap between them caused by ongoing hostility."

"Can't you do something?"

"Oh yeah and risk having Amelia rip into me. Don't you know time heals?"

"Until now I've really only thought of that saying abstractly."

Harry almost whispered, "Would you like to meet Walton? He might be interested in you."

Billie said, "What an get my ass kicked by Amelia?"

He chuckled and they began talking about the pines that were everywhere and then Harry said, "As soon as we have a really fine Sunday we'll go to Mount Rushmore."

"Ooh, I've been waiting to go there."

"Oh before I forget, if you write about the Black Hills don't overlook the fact the mountain range extends into Wyoming and not only does the range rise amid a sea of grasslands, as they say, there is also sheep and cattle farming up here on grasslands."

As they neared home Harry asked, "Why haven't the local media been chasing you?"

"Either they are incompetent or not interested and I like it that way so please Harry, don't do anything to change that."

"I have friends everywhere."

"Please don't Harry."

"Okay."

Next morning Billie went into Rapid City to hand over to her new accountant the documents Amberly wished to store and she then sat on a street bench. She called Jane in marketing and advised she'd be away from that afternoon and probably would not return till late Wednesday."

"That's fine. Media interest in going to you in South Dakota has been less than what we expected but there is sufficient to keep you before the public eye. You are clear till Friday when a TV film crew and presenter of a very popular Sunday arts program will film you at locations around the city. I'll send you details and remember this is a really big opportunity for you. The presenter told me they usually concentrate on graphic arts, stage and music but the impact you are making in fiction really appeals to her."

"Good work and thanks Jane. Oh another tip for you. When a guy is buried between your legs stroke his ears. They appear to really love that, knowing that above them is someone taking an interest in what they are doing."

"God Billie, you're incorrigible," Jane said after her initial scream of laughter.

The sun was warm and Billie stayed on the seat watching activity across the street. She they heard Harry greet her and saw he had a cool looking guy with him.

"Billie this is Walton."

The guy said, "Oh hi, we meet at last. Dad goes on quite a bit about you. You are very pretty."

"Thanks Walton and you father has mentioned you to me a couple of times."

"Will you join us for lunch? Please say yes."

Billie noticed Harry was beaming.

"Well I..."

"Dad would not like to see you carried off with force if you resist."

"Oh how could I refuse?" Billie said and jumping up hooked into the arm of each guy and off they went.

Billie only had one glass of wine because she would be driving into the hills later.

"I'm glad you brought that Infiniti. You'll look great in it."

"Why thank you Walton. What can I do to get your and you mother back on speaking terms?"

"Er you know about that?"

"Apparently I do."

"Oh yes, obviously. You must understand that Kate is very sexy."

"I can guess but it's not good for a mother and her son to be off-center."

Harry remained out of it as if having confidence in Billie to meddle effectively.

"Billie I say this with respect, but I really don't..."

"Don't turn into a jerk Walton. No one else appears to be making the move to restore a thirty-year relationship. You have your work to keep your mind otherwise occupied but your mother has time on her hands and probably keeps the same thought going that you are such an asshole."

Harry beamed while the face of his son darkened.

"Now you look here..."

"Walton, I'm spoiling your lunch. I'm going. Just remember you begin the restorative process with a painless call to your mom. Say you're sorry and then wait for her to throw the phone across the room or alternatively she'll say something."

Billie pulled out one hundred bucks and placed it on the table. "Have lunch on me guys, bye."

She walked off hoping but there was no plea to return to the table. However when she reached the sidewalk her arm was grabbed, Walton said, "Wait up you interfering young bitch." He kissed her.

Billie closed her eyes and returned the kiss.

When they broke she said, "You have a nerve. Why don't you use that energy to effect that reconciliation?"

"I will. Please return to our table."

"Okay but this will cost you a date."

"Oh I'm well ahead of you with that thinking."

Billie pulled out the big tease. "Am I really old enough for your Walton? My understanding is like your steak you like your women aged."

"Bitch," he laughed. "You have great boobs."

"What a rude man." Billie refrained from adding just like his mom.

They returned to the table, hand in hand. Harry stood and nodded at Billie without expression and said nothing. She could tell he was pleased.

Billie reached Clearwater just after 5:00 and Mira greeted her warmly and settled her guest into the second bedroom of that small house attached to the rear of the coffee shop. Her thin, sunken-eyed husband arrived from work and greeted their guest warmly and said he'd take Billie on a tour to familiarize her with the town they'd be discussing with her. It was depressing seeing abandoned storefronts boarded but stores that appealed to tourists moving through the area still did good business according to Dirk.

They ended up in a bar where Mayor O'Brien invited Billie and Dirk to join the group, the only group in the bar because there were no other patrons.

Billie was handed a beer and when invited by the Mayor to explain why she was visiting the town she explained and then for the next hour Billie received a great deal of valuable comment to 'setting'.

At dinner that night Mira and Dirk told her a lot more including the really unhappy side to depopulation, they young people had fled, including their three children, and that meant the average age of the population, presently down to 718, was increasing.

Billie was aware that was a legacy of population drift but seeing the pain of Mira and Dirk, giving that as the sole reason why there three children had left once they'd reached working age, was something she thought she'd never forget. 

A tearful Amelia called her that evening and said, "Thank you my beautiful, adorable young woman. Walton has just left and he and I are on even keel again thanks to you. I am so happy."

Billie said she was so happy as well. 

Amelia handed the phone to Harry and went off bawling.

"Thank Christ this stupid affair is over," Harry said gruffly. "You can now expect to find Amelia a better person. God girl you have guts. I'll find some way to reward you."

"I have received reward enough Harry. You two have received me into your home and made my feel like family. I couldn't wish for anything more."

Next day some of the women of the town came into the coffee shop, as arranged in a schedule of appointments by Mira, and that kept Billie all day. The women were of various ages and all said the town might not actually become a complete ghost town because new people arrived occasionally looking for cheap living as house prices had plummeted over the years.

All very interesting but the real bomb burst came during dinner that night with five couples who were close friends of Mira and Dirk.

Petunia Forrester, who was in her early sixties, said, "You know Billie with you being of child-bearing age it might interest you to know the last child to be born in this town was Daisy and Brandt's daughter Isobel. Isobel will be nine soon."

Billie slumped back into her chair, absolutely shocked.

Returning home Billie thought her fictitious setting of a dying town would be okay but her heroine would have to do something to bring hope like starting a commercial venture that would attractive men with their heavily pregnant wives to the town, er men with their wives and children.

Harry was out washing his black Cadillac STS. God why did men have to have over-powered cars too big for their needs?

She smiled, waving at him. Well why anything? For affluent people they didn't have to have a reason for anything involving consumerism unless they had been taught to heed their conscience and to maintain careful but not frugal lifestyles... like her. Oh yeah, driver of a luxury car that wasn't even American. She giggled guilty, thinking Harry had made her buy the Infiniti.

A couple of hours later Billie was furious. Walton arrived for dinner and she hadn't been told her was coming. He was dressed semi-formerly and caught her coming in for pre-dinner drinks in a pair of blue faded jeans and a t-shirt with a graphic of the Eiffel Tower under rust attack that a fellow French student have given her years ago.

He stared at her and grinned and she flushed. He made no attempt to move across and kiss her so she said crossly, "Aren't you going to kiss me?"

"Oh pardon me Billie, I didn't recognize you."

Billie ran off and she heard Amelia said, "Stay here Walton. She's gone to change. It's my fault, I forgot to tell you you'd be here for dinner."

"I didn't mind her dressed like that."

Billie changed into a bra that did nothing for her and a tight short dress that emphasized her legs. She'd teach that yokel to stare at her breast and lick his lips. God couldn't he wait until she offered it to him? She smeared on more lipstick hoping to look like a hooker and returned to the day lounge where drinks would be served.

She stopped just inside the doorway and heard the jerk wheeze, "Jesus" and then look at her legs and lick his lips.

Billie seethed. Why couldn't he acknowledge her most interesting part was her brain?

Walton strode over and kissed her.

She didn't bite his lip and as he pulled away he whispered, "I'm thinking I ought to take you to bed."

Billie couldn't be angry because she thought it was a great idea.

The evening went very well and later although Harry and Amelia were smothering yawns they made no effort to retire. Finally Walton accepted he was being thwarted over having a rumble with Billie and so said he must go. 

They all stood to farewell him.

As Walton was kissing Billie he said, "Please have dinner with me Friday?"

"Yes although I could be tired because I'll have a big filming day that will come after tomorrow's luncheon of the local writer's club where I am to be guest speaker."

"Oh mixing with the city's elite eh?"

"I really don't think so. Just some earnest women and a few males attempting to gain immortality through writing."

"I don't think you appreciate how Rapid City's social society works. Will you stay over Friday night?"

Billie thought she should say no but heard herself saying yes thank you. God what a slut but as she turned she found his parents beaming at them. Being creative, Billie wondered if that was a noose rather than a necklace she felt round her neck.

"Oh Billie I forgot to tell you. While you were away Nancy Moorhead called to say they'd have such a demand for tickets from kindred organizations for lunch and your presentation that the venue had been switched from the local church hall to Rushmore Plaza Civic Center. They have limited attendance to 800 and the event has been opened to the public is being advertised locally as a charity fundraiser sponsored by the Writer's Club, all profits going to the Children's Health Trust.

"Omigod now you tell me. I was expecting just to chat to 100 sleepy ageing people who attend the Writer's Club for a monthly outing."

"I think you've gotten the wrong end of the stick darling. Nancy wouldn't be associated with any activity like that. People without a degree find it virtually impossible to gain entry to the club and preference to membership is given to people holding literary degrees. The club's patron is a professor of medieval literature and the vice-president Dr Coppelia Smith is a leading researcher on American writers of the 18th century. Nancy holds a doctorate in early childhood reading and a masters in American Literature."

"Nancy? Are you talking about your friend Nancy Moorhead?"

"Yes dear; she'd the only Nancy I know."

"Oh god, I've done nothing in preparation."

Harry said Amelia should have given Billie that message earlier and was told to shut up.

"Billie," she soothed. "Just chat to them. That's all they'll expect because you are after all only a novelist."

Hands behind her back Billie cracked her knuckles and had dark thoughts.

CHAPTER 7

Billie went to the rostrum amid warm applause.

"I'm Billie Summers, a simple girl from Texas (some applause) so you'll get a talk from me, not a learned lecture, and I'll be speaking frankly so any media reporting this I ask please use kind discretion...

When my twin brother and I were being born mom knew she should have been out helping dad and our ranch hand with the cattle. Dad and Mac were culling because we were running out of grass. Just another damn hard year on the ranch. 




Aspiring Novelist Pt. 04



We jump now to when it was time to go to college. Damn, another tough year behind us and in the middle of another and there was just enough surplus bank loan to send one of us to college. My brother wanted to study engineering and I just wanted to write so I said my brother goes to college. I was sent to my aunt in Pennsylvania. But I had a great thought on the train and left it at Forth Worth and booked into a dirt-cheap hotel and then took to the streets. I thought I'd work as a street prostitute until I had heaps of money that I could send to mom and dad to save the farm.

Fortunately for me an undercover policewoman spotted skinny me in a cheap cotton dress attempting to flag down rich-looking businessmen who either ran away or spat at me in contempt. That was my first meeting of a heroine, apart from mum. Policewoman Sarah Lynch presented her ID and I asked was I booked. She said probably and asked me what was I doing. I explained my parents' plight and said I was trying to save the ranch. Well she had hysterics and then said if I caught a judge on the right day he would probably let me off for the novelty of my excuse. She paid for my meal and then went with me to gather my things and put me on the next train north.

I did say fortunately that policewoman discovered me attempting to lure my first man. I would not have been a good prostitute because sex once or twice a day is usually enough for me.

The audience laughed.

Sarah Lynch, wherever you are today, I salute you.

The applause was deafening.

You know I don't create much beyond dialogue when I write. Mostly I gather in things I've experienced or heard people talk about. Oh there is a notable exception to that. The robust sex I inject into my novels is plain fiction. I'm not all that experienced as I'm only twenty-six.

My Aunt and Uncle in Philly were tremendously generous to me and put me through Penn University when I gained a Masters in Literature dash Writing. In my sophomore year I had a short story published and I feel to the floor gaping for oxygen after an influential wrote this:

'The belligerent and hard-drinking, womanizing former seafarer Captain Wiltshire, who was only five foot three inches tall and who became a hugely successful importer of spices and whisky, is a character depicted so graphically that he almost appears to come out of the pages at the reader. Young author Billie Summers, in her second-year of literary studies, has the signs of another young giant emerging from Penn University. This girl has raw talent.'

That didn't swell my head but it did give me huge belief in myself that from that day has never faltered.

The son of a New York publisher came to Philly to visit his grandmother and read that critic so he signed me up to convert that short story into a book and I hit him for an advance. He said if I promised to deliver he'd authorize an advance of ten grand. I told him how I wanted to help mom and dad reduce their bank loan and the soft guy advanced me thirty grand, risking his father kicking his butt.

Well my first novel about that sea captain who came ashore, 'Swashbuckling Business Tycoon', sold well, returning my publish its investment in me many times other. Interestingly that generous risk-taking guy Sam Sorenson, also a graduate of Penn, is today is chairman of the publishing company and the company expects my new book, due out any day now, will be a red hot winner for them. And yes, I sent that thirty grand to mom and dad and when they finally had two good years in a row they sold the ranch and gave me my money back, doubling it. They now are living happily in town in Texas. 

Being a Texas girl I've always told it how it is and so when being interviewed on TV with that great Texan lady and beautiful writer Celeste B. Bush and I was asked did I ride horses, I said no I was scared of horses. Dear me what a boatload of crap people tried to heap on my and if Celeste hadn't said she was a bit scared of them I'm sure I would have been thrown out of Texas.

I was embarrassed, not for what I said because that was the truth, but for giving horses what is traditionally known as 'a bad press.' I remembered what dad would have said in that situation: you have been a bad girl Billie; please do something to show you are good.

Months later, four months later to be exact, a real lovely guy called me who goes by the name of Ben Aspen. He's a horse breeder near one of those American towns that has a great name, Sunset. It lies about midway between Fort Worth and Wichita Falls. Great names eh. With names and setting like that it's impossible not to be ignited as a writer. Mind you, I'll also say the same about names like Rapid City, Spearfish, Clearwater, Minnekahta Junction and one of my really big favorites, Deadwood. Perhaps that tells you why I'm here. Actually I came here because I'd been jilted before the romance was consummated but that sort of thing can happen. So why South Dakota? Well I was in Dallas, crying and deciding to change my ticket. I looked up and saw a poster promoting Sioux Falls and the uniqueness of that name hit me like a bullet. So here I am after moving from there to Rapid City because why? Oh another name... the Black Hills of Dakota.

There was huge applause.

Billie then spoke about her time on the ranch with Ben and his extended family and then moving to the southern Texas Coast and then on to Rapid City.

Nancy then invited questions.

"Who jilted you?"

"I'll never reveal that."

"How can you be scared about horses but yet apparently have written about them well enough for pundits to suggest your upcoming novel 'Horsewoman' be make the best selling list."

"Well I'm not into predicting sales numbers but I as my own critic I can say it's the best book I've written and a really beautiful, heart-warming story. It all began when Ben Aspen introduced me to a fantastic, loving horse called Little Lady."

"How can a horse be described as loving?"

"You might prefer calling it affectionate. I felt something so I call it loving. I'm sure horse lovers and other animal lovers will know what I'm on about."

"Applause."

"Will you attempt to write the Great American Novel?"

"No, it's probably been written already with perhaps a dozen contenders to choose from."

"What is your favorite novel?"

"Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte's only novel. Perhaps that got to me at a very impressionable age although I must say I truly think Heathcliff is one of the best characterizations I've come across."

A stern-faced woman said, "You said Emily Bronte wrote only one novel. I've read others."

"Sorry but I'm correct in saying she had only one novel published. She was a poet. Perhaps you are confused by her sister's Charlotte's novels or those of another sister Anne?"

"Charlotte had only one novel published," someone called.

"Do you have a great novel in you?"

"I think so."

Nancy said she'd take one more question and smiling chose Amelia Meade.

"You live in my house Billie and eat with my husband and me and you talk to me several times a day and yet you have told me nothing about the novel you are planning."

"Well Amelia usually I don't talk to people about work in progress but I'll say this: it will be a warm and uplifting novel set in the Black Hills and the working title is 'Fading Days'. I've begun my research but have yet to begin planning."

Most of the 800 people rose to deliver prolonged applauded.

As soon as stepped off-stage local media people seeking interviews confronted her. She made them wait while she met people from the audiences waiting to speak to her.

Next morning before breakfast Billie wrote a proposal for her new novel she called 'Fading Days' believing that was a stronger title than the original intent of calling it Fading Times, reasoning that days had an more immediate term than times. She made no mention of it being a working title. She outlined the characters and plot and summarized twelve chapters off the top of her head. She'd noted whenever she deviated from the original proposal no one from publishing ever said anything, presumably because like Billie they considered the deviation to be superior.

Harry arrived with coffee grinning and holding the newspaper.

"Lovely photo."

"Omigod I have a tit half hanging out."

Harry alleged he'd only noticed the pretty face.

The interview appeared accurate and on another page Billie found quite a long account of her chat to the meeting; the bit about her posing as a prostitute was not mentioned, thank god.

As they sat for breakfast Amelia said, "That's a very becoming photo of your breast and rather good of you overall."

Harry winked at Billie.

The director called at 9:30 and said the light was good. They were setting up in Quincy Street outside the Public Library and could Billie come to them now. Billie said she'd be there inside 15 minutes.

It was a tiring day because their broke the interview into segments and filmed in seven different locations to add wider appeal to the interview.

"We've come here from Chicago so had to make a real effort to get it looking good," one of the camera operators told Billie.

They had lunch brought to them in a caterer's van. They were a good crew and the director was particularly pleasant saying the filming would be edited down to run for twenty-five minutes that would include one ad break.

The presenter was rather curt on camera and that probably was her style. Before moving to location for filming at sunset, during filming at Dinosaur Park Glenys pointed at the huge concrete creations from the 1930s now painted bright green with white underbellies and asked, "What do you as an novelist think of these monstrosities?"

"Well the children appear to really enjoy them and I guess from that perspective it's good. It's a bit like asking me why do I like Monet's work but not Dali's or why would I seek to find a Rubens hanging but not bother with a Picasso."

"Why don't you like the works of Dali and Picasso?"

"It's just what appeals to my eye and overall appreciation, from my perspective. You understand me, don't you, that no one can tell me what to like and no doubt you are the same?"

"Well yes although I can't say I've had a perspective on art put to me quite like that before."

"I apologize."

"No please don't apologize. I'm finding you think with some originality."

As the crew were packing up, the director took the presenter Glenys and Billie to a nearby bar, telling the crew she'd join them back at the hotel.

Just before 8:00 Billie called Walton and said they had just finished. He said he'd come for her and said he was driving a white Mustang and would wait outside.

Walton took Billie to his apartment to shower. She waited for him to come in for a grope but he stayed well clear. She dried, did her hair and climbed into bed.

"Can a girl get a drink in this place?"

She heard Walton go into the bathroom and then he appeared in the bedroom carrying a bottle of wine and too glasses. His jaw dropped when he saw Billie sitting up, completely nude above the sheet covering her legs.

"You aren't required to be dressed in bed," she smiled. 

"What do I do with these?" Walton said, now staring at the bottle and glasses, acting if he'd lost the power of positive thinking.

"Give them to me. I'll pour while you rip off your clothes."

"Jesus this is a novelty for me," he said. "I thought I'd have to butter you up all night to get this far."

"No I'm easy providing the guy really appeals to me. Aren't you lucky."

"That's for sure."

Billie licked her lips at the sight of the fat swinging dick. She wanted to say 'Hurry, hurry, fuck me'. 

Instead she handed Walton his glass as he settled into bed and said sweetly, "This is really nice wine."

After Walton settled in with his shoulders between her legs, Billie began fiddling with his ears. After a while he took a brief break to look up and murmur it was great to find her participating and he appeared confused when she said that was confirmation it worked but her did no ask her to explain that comment.

Walton used his fingers expertly to bring the red-faced and gasping Billie to a writhing climax and then he kissed her and explored the front of her body minutely, kiss-by-kiss until she whined she wanted him inside her.

They had a mutual explosive finish, a little mistimed, to end their inaugural fuck and then cleaned up and went out to dinner and found themselves behaving rather romantically.

There was one tiny blip. Over a glass of red wine, Walton leaned forward and said earnestly, "I loved the way you tasted." Caught unexpectedly by that confession Billie chocked on her wine and splattered the front of Walton's shirt and instead of reacting badly perhaps like some guys would and saying "You stupid bitch" he dabbed his shirtfront, smiled and said, "I see I can tickle your humor." 

Billie thought humor? She's been aghast that he'd speak to her like that in a crowded restaurant and had been shocked he hadn't whispered.

But everything was fine and they went back to the apartment where Billie received the best 'doggie' she'd ever had in the eight years she'd been sexually activity, mainly because Walton kept busy attempting to really arouse her. She was pleased he was such a good lover and decided he could do anything to her he wanted.

Billie was back home by 9:30 next morning to find Harry and Amelia were out, probably gone to one of the malls to have coffee with friends. She settled down in front of her laptop and began working to revise her opening for 'Fading Days' she'd written as part of her proposal...

The boarded up storefronts of one-third of the stores of Griffin (population 905 and declining) made Claire Armstrong think of cobwebs, moss and a plague of rodents.

Ugh.

Claire was angry. The damn real estate agent in Rapid City had told her she'd find cheap housing in the thriving long-established settlement of Griffin, named after Charlie Griffin. 

In early 1875 the enterprising grocer had been heading for one of the gold fields when the rear left-hand wheel of his horse-drawn wagon collapsed. Undeterred Charlie figured gold-seekers coming in from the south and perhaps some from the west taking the easier route would come this way and would trade with him. So he worked to prop up his wagon and erected a notice 'Griffin, Population 1' and then uncovered his wares. Waiting for someone -- anyone -- to approached, he lit his pipe wondered if he could entice one of the camp-following women of ill repute passing by to stay and thereby increase Griffin's population to two and then increase it further through successive pregnancies.

Claire wondered which was Charlie's store. Most looked well over 100 years old.

A huge rat chased by a cat ran in front of Claire's battered Japanese car. She shrieked, pulled the wheel away from the rat and unintentionally hit the gas pedal. Her car inconsiderately mounted the boardwalk with a huge thump, breaking the rear axel, and crashed through a storefront, fortunately one of the abandoned premises. Claire was knocked unconscious by a board that crashed through the windscreen.

A woman witness screamed and people out of nowhere came running. 

Billie read that piece and smiled. It graphically painted the unpromising arrival in Griffin (population 901 because another family had left that morning) for the woman who with the enterprise of the town's founder Charlie Griffin, would lead the fight to arrest Griffin's slide toward full conversion into Ghost Town status. Claire and friends would establish massage parlors along Griffin Way (formerly High Street) where Sunday drivers stopping for light relief would receive a massage or anything else they required. On other days men and woman resident in the Black Hills would appear from nowhere to take advantage of the discount rates for the various services on offer. Designers and artisans tired of the bustle and hassle of city life would be attracted to establish boutiques and outlet stores and even marketing cooperatives and the future of Griffin would be assured and Claire would be attracted to an attorney who would be elected as Giffin's new mayor and they would married and increase the town's population.

It's a bit too pat but has Cinderella content that ought to soften any criticism and she would inject the necessary antagonism. It would be a novel bound to satisfy American patriotism and interest in history, traditions and lifestyles she thought without any attempt to perform hard-nosed analysis.

Billie received the ten customary complimentary copies of 'Horsewoman' plus the thirty-eight discounted copies she'd pre-ordered, and that of course told her the presses were running. She began receiving requests via Jane at Under the Tree marketing to visit various major on-setters to appear in their stores to sign copies of her book for people keen to purchased signed copies and to be photographed with the author. Speaking engagement began coming in including addressing horse breeder and horse rider associations. Billie demanded appearance payment and received it... no problem. She was a celebrity. TV appearances followed and she began talking about her new book and became too annoyed with the interviews asking the question, 'Do you think a book like that will sell?' to worry about the consistency of that question.

All the time Billie spend as much time as possible working on 'Fading Days.' No one at Under the Tree Publishing questioned the working title that became the project title because, it seemed, everyone considered Billie had the 'nose and ear' for doing the right thing.

Fortunately Jocelyn Winter the executive editor agreed with Ellen the commissioning editor to adopt a conservative printing schedule. At least they sensed this was a book that could 'bomb'. Print-runs spaced apart of 50,000 and thereafter 30,000 runs were scheduled. Plans to emphasize hot author Billie Summers next book were modified downwards to state a new book by Billie Summers.

Meanwhile at a board meeting of the dealership held when Harry and Glenda were in Los Angeles at Harry's only niece's wedding, some board members became highly critical of Walton for maintaining a large inventory of pre-owned cards and not cutting back to minimum quotas levels for new vehicles in the market taking a slide with yet another hiccup in the national economy. Harry's deputy was in the chair and annoyed at Walton's comment that he was running the business and not the board resulted in Malcolm McCrone mounting a personal attack on Walton. The situation became very heated and Walton said he would resign. "Accepted," Malcolm shouted. "Leave the meeting now and write it out pronto."

"Up your left nostril you short-ass Philistine. I'll decide when I'll write out my notice, not you but I'm leaving now."

"You're fired you insolent dog."

"Oh that's fine. Now I can sue the company for unjustified dismissal."

Thinking on his feet Malcolm shouted, "I withdraw my intention to fire you" and enraged through a water jug at Walton who managed to duck and it smashed into the glass front of the cabinet of the awards won by dealership personnel and the company itself over the years.

Harry rushed back from Los Angeles the next day and ripped into Malcolm for exceeding his authority as deputy chairman. At the Malcolm resigned.

Harry went into Walton's office and said he would be ripping up Walton's resignation, that he'd accepted Malcolm McCrone's resignation instead.

"No just accept it dad that I'm leaving. I wished granddad have never converted the company into a public company. I preferred working here under the family umbrella. I have money stashed away so will look to buy a small dealership that has growth potential but not here, not in competition with you."