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Meet Greta. A 30-something single-mom living in Chicago proper, ghostwriting for a man she has never met. She’s miraculously completed the monthly manuscript deadline and received a new laptop, a crisp $1 bill, and a note saying he’s ready for a public appearance—only Greta has to go on a hunt around the world to find him! Clue #1 was easy—a note from Clamming on the Omni Hotel letterhead. And with a quick phone call to an old co-worker, the concierge, we find out Clamming checked in…
Comment below. If the author picks up your storyline, you will win a year’s subscription to Hybrid Mom!
Missed a Chapter? Read Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5
“Can you give me his room number?”
Nicole’s deep throaty laugh filled the phone line, “Hardly.”
“Do you know who Robert Clamming is?” I had to ask. How many Robert Clamming’s exist in the world? And how many famous authors share the name? Amazon.com says only one—my Robert Clamming.
The silence of recognition filled the phone line for a moment. So much so, I began to hear the miles of coax cables hum. That or it was Owen now twirling at my feet and singing.
“How do you know—"
Ahhh, the recognition. “It’s a long story. Do you have time in a half hour? I’ll be there. I have a secret to share.”
At least the cab ride and hotel lobby, would be a distraction for Owen. One that would keep him busy for the afternoon. And maybe even tire him out for an afternoon nap. One that even a mother could enjoy.
With little more than a flick of my wrist, we were Omni bound, and I had to call Jen to share the latest developments. And see if I was breaking my non-disclosure agreement about Clamming. I needed to figure out this mystery, but I needed a paycheck more. I’d only share as much as I needed to with Nicole.
Only, Jen wasn’t answering her phone. Not for the entire ride 20 minute ride to the Omni Hotel. Or the 15 minutes I waited outside. And after asking Owen not to run around the leather bound chairs for the third time in the lobby, I’d decided I couldn’t wait for her any longer. It could be hours if Brian was in a nasty mood. And ultimately, I was on my own. At least this far.
Glancing over at the concierge desk, Nicole looked no different than she had 4 years ago. Her hair shorter, hipper. Attire more business-like—but what uniform isn’t? And her lipstick a bit glossier. All in all, the same editor that walked in every morning and promptly 9:48am with a Starbucks coffee for work.
“Nicole?” I beamed, “Sorry it took us a bit, I was waiting for—“
“Mr. Clamming right?” she winked and nodded in the direction of the front desk. Some official looking woman with a tight bun in her hair smiled in our direction.
“Yep, that’s right. I’m his personal assistant and I’d like to get some sight seeing in on our trip.” I scooted Owen from behind my left thigh to my front side.
Nicole nodded and ruffled some papers.
But Bun Lady didn’t really noticed us, she eyed Nicole and then went behind some door around the corner.
“Thanks,” Nicole sighed with relief, “She’s the new regional manager and decided to drop in for a visit…”
Owen stepped out from the hiding spot I placed him in between myself and the counter. I could tell Nicole was a bit lost on whose he was. Her eyes kept searching my face and then Owens. Three times I counted before I saved her.
“Yes, he’s mine. And affair gone wrong with the guy on the first floor.” I shrugged my shoulders. I’d been through this a thousand times with family members. Old friends. Teachers. It was old hat. For good or bad.
“He’s cute,” she flashed a smile and handed him crayons and pint size booklet. Omni-made coloring books. “You have more secrets to spill?”
This time I chuckled, “That I do.” Only, I didn’t get a breath in to start, Jen barreled through the revolving door.
“Nicole Creel!” she shrieked, arms wide and running toward us. Toward Nicole to be exact. They embraced and tripped over questions and answers. Obviously, they shared a past. But I couldn’t get my questions in edgewise to find out anything. Not to mention get any more goods on Clamming.
Now it’s your turn to tell Greta’s story. Or at least give this story some direction. How do Jen and Nicole know each other? How much of “the secret” does Greta or Jen tell Nicole? Or just tell us what happens next!
Comment below. If the author picks up your storyline, you win a year’s subscription to Hybrid Mom!
Bethany Hiitola lives in a far north suburb of Chicago with her husband, son and new daughter. Throw in the animals, and it is a full house of chaos. Somehow, Bethany still manages to reach for her dream of writing—all between diaper changes, nap times, fixing meals, and work projects. Oh and giving her husband the attention he deserves. More details are at her website: http://www.bethanyhiitola.com/
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