or schedules.â
Harmony thought about that. Maybe sheâd have been better off if her parents had done that. Her dad was a roofer, a âmanâs man,â who loved to hang out with his buddiesâgolf, bowling, hunting, fishing, tinkering on cars. Her mom worked as a cashier at a dollar store. She loved playing cards and bingo. They spent as little time with Harmony and her brother as possible. There was a roof over her head and always a meal on the table. But she was invisible to them, left to her brotherâs care.
Brody waited for her to say something. Her lips turned down. She couldnât help it, but her voice sounded more bitter than she intended. âPoor kid, heâs going to be pretty much on his own. Heâs a token baby.â
Brody frowned, studying her. âIs that what happened to you?â
The damned man was too perceptive. She shrugged. âMy parents provided for me, in their way.â
âNo siblings?â he asked.
âA brother. I stayed out of his way. He hung out with the wrong people, and he could be mean.â She reached over and put her hand on his. âAre you going to be okay? Cecilyâs pushing out a baby to keep her end of a contract. I hope the father, at least, wants it.â
Brody stared at her hand. âHe needs an heir, someone to take over his businesses.â
Harmony pulled away. Her parents had no expectations for either her or her brother. In some ways, for her, that was a blessing. No pressure. For her brother, it left him feeling adrift. Their parents didnât even notice his bad choices as long as he pretended to meet curfew. âCecily had better have a boy. Times have changed, but Iâm guessing Mr. Cecily wants a son.â
Brody smiled at her wording. His shoulders relaxed. âIâm okay now. You put it in perspective. Cecily might have a baby, but she still wonât be a mother. We still wouldnât have worked.â
She tilted her head, studying him. âYou hate failure, donât you?â
âIâm getting better at it. I still strive for high standards, but sometimes, your best isnât good enough.â
Jeez, is that how he interpreted failure? It made her feel like a slacker. Sometimes life happens. She just strove to stay afloat and as pain-free as possible.
As soon as they finished their meal, Brody pushed to his feet. âCome on, Ian. Letâs get the hallway finished. Then we can start on the inside walls.â
Ian reached to collect their dirty dishes, but Paula waved him away. âIâll get these. You guys look driven today. Pound away.â
Appropriate. The hammer gun sounded before Harmony reached the top step. She closed the door on the construction noise and plopped in front of her laptop. She was starting the vast middle of the book. Even with plot points, she struggled with middles. By then, all of the set-up was done. Sheâd set the plot in motion. Lines were drawn, and she knew whoâd step over them. The middle was crunch time, when friendships and enmities deepened, everything got complicated, and she had to wring tension from each and every scene.
She was struggling with a chapter where Luxar went to meet Serifinaâs coven, and they were all going to join together to fight Torrid and his demons. Luxar didnât trust witches, and witches didnât trust vampires, so everyone was on edge. The dialogue needed to be edgy, sharp. Her writing crawled to a few paragraphs here, a few there, with lots of pacing back and forth between the coffee pot and her laptop. She always drank too much coffee when she wrote tricky scenes. Getting up and down gave her mind time to ponder, turn things over, and try for something fresh. By the time she finished the damned pages, she felt like she was going to float away, she was full of so much liquid. She hurried into the bathroom.
Of course, thatâs when the kids burst into the room. Damn . Sheâd
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