Last July

Chapter twenty five

I walked back to my side closing the door as I turned the key in the engine. She should seriously consider abandoning her friend all together. Phillisa was never there in the first place so technically she wouldn't miss her any at all. We came to a halt at her drive way about fifteen minutes or so later and Kenzy grabbed two paper bags from the back. I didn't understand her logic about getting home, in case she hadn't forgotten, this place didn't exactly have cabs around to get you any where, it was small but still too large to walk from every point especially with heavy bags.

She opened the door and stepped out walking up the pavement but then glanced back at the truck.

"Hey, do you want to come in?"

I shook my head instead of answering and started the engine as she disappeared through the door. I glanced back into the rear mirror checking to see if anyone was coming behind when I realized she hadn't gotten all the bags. Shit! Now I'll definitely have to go inside. Ziploc caught me half way through her house a surprise expression marring her face. She didn't forget about her other three bags but I did. Carefully she took a bag craddled in my arm before whispering a thank you, turning on her heels into the kitchen.

The houses on this side of the town were smaller and only used for the summer period when tourists moved in otherwise during the rest of the year, they were either renovated or the owners moved in for the time being. This one though admittedly was really nice. The kitchen was painted grey with a large cupboard overlooking a granite countertop, large stove, electric I noticed and the floor was blood red mahogany.

"Thanks" I said taking the water she handed over as a gesture to thank me for my troubles.

I watched her a while as she moved like a sloth packing away the groceries. My eyes wondered to the table where a small stack of papers laid, I figured they were probably pieces of her work and decided to sneak a peak. My eyes only managed to scan what seemed like a letter before it was hurriedly pulled from my grasp. I glanced down to find a cherry faced Ziploc staring up at me eyes betraying fear. If she was worried that I'd seen what she had written she didn't need to, what I saw couldn't remotely put the story together.

"What kind of author are you? Thriller, romance" I looked her up and drown. "You don't seem like a sci-fi type of girl"

She gathered the remaining papers before turning to me. "I'm not sure yet. Romance maybe, I'm still trying to figure out which I like the most"

"How long have you been writing then?"

"Three years" she leaned against the counter after placing the paper away.

Three years and she still hadn't a clue what her niche was?

"And how many books have you written since then?"

She gave me a wide grin. "Three"

"You write one book every year? That can't be very profitable"

"Yeah I know. But research takes a lot of time. Plus I can't write scrappy stories. No one will read it if it's rubbish"

True.

"Which one is the best seller?"

"Waiting for star"

I made a disgusted face. "Sounds sappy"

She shrugged. " You haven't told me how old you are as yet"

I settled into a chair in her living area and she sat cross legged facing me in the sofa. Strangely I didn't feel like I needed to leave like I normally would have being around other people, especially seeing I had my own groceries to get home.