The Mistletoe Inn

The Mistletoe Inn by Richard Paul Evans Read Free Book Online

Book: The Mistletoe Inn by Richard Paul Evans Read Free Book Online
Authors: Richard Paul Evans
asked.
    â€œLexus.”
    â€œLexus makes a fine car,” he said. “I always wanted one of their little sports cars, but couldn’t swing it.”
    Joel continued. “So have you written some books?”
    â€œOne. It still needs to be edited. I’m trying to find a publisher, or an agent, but I keep getting rejections.”
    â€œI hear that happens to all writers,” Joel said mercifully. “A few weeks ago I saw this author on PBS. He said he had a collection of dozens of rejection letters. After he sold his first million books, he wrote each of the publishers who had rejected him and sent them a copy of the New York Times bestseller list with his book at number one and a letter telling them how much money they had lost so far. Then he had all his rejection letters framed.”
    â€œI’m still working on my collection,” I said.
    â€œWhat’s your book about?”
    â€œIt’s a holiday romance about this lonely woman who meets a man who is dreading going to all his holiday eventsalone, so he asks her if she would like to pretend to be a couple.”
    â€œPretend?” Chuck asked.
    â€œYes. They’re the only ones who know their relationship’s not real.”
    â€œAnd they fall in love?” Chuck said.
    â€œIt’s a love story,” my father said. “Of course they fall in love. If it was a thriller, they’d shoot each other.”
    â€œIt sounds interesting,” Joel said. “I’d read it.”
    â€œYou’d read a romance?” I asked. “I see you as more of a Brad Thor or Lee Child reader.”
    He smiled. “Actually, I do like a good thriller, but I’m open to other genres. If a writer’s got a good style.”
    â€œShe’s got a great style,” my father said. “She’s going to a writers’ conference in a couple weeks. She’ll get a chance to meet some agents and hopefully sell her book.”
    â€œThat’s really great,” Joel said. “I hope things work out.”
    â€œI don’t know if I’m really going,” I said. “I mean, I looked at it, but it was kind of out of my price range.”
    â€œShe’s going,” my father said.
    I didn’t say anything.
    â€œWell, it sounds like a lot of fun,” Joel said. “When you have your first book signing, I’ll be the first in line.”
    â€œYou’re very sweet,” I said.
    â€œThe truth is, you could sell books just from your author photo. You’re very pretty.”
    I was a little taken aback. “Thank you.”
    There was an awkward silence. Joel blushed, then said, “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
    â€œNo. That was very sweet.”
    He still looked embarrassed. “I can’t believe I put my foot in my mouth when there’s all this delicious food I should be eating instead.”
    â€œWhat can I get you?” I asked.
    â€œWell, I’d give an arm and a leg for some more of that sweet potato casserole.”
    The whole table went quiet. Then he suddenly laughed. “Wait, I already did.”
    What a beautiful man , I thought.

    â€œBest Thanksgiving dinner I’ve ever had,” Chuck said, patting his stomach.
    â€œYou’re being kind,” my father replied.
    â€œSince when has anyone accused me of that?” he asked. “You know me, I’m old enough to speak the truth. My first wife was a horrible cook. The second one wouldn’t cook. I don’t know which was worse.”
    Joel and I smiled at each other.
    â€œI’ll get some coffee,” my father said. “Any takers?”
    â€œI’d like some,” Joel said. “With a little milk.”
    â€œMe too,” I said.
    While my father made the coffee I brought the pies over to the table.
    â€œWhat’ya got there?” Chuck asked. “It smells like pies.”
    â€œRight again. Pumpkin

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