“That’s kind of for your mom,” Liz says. “If you could give it to her.”
“I was pretty sure it wasn’t for me,” Austen replies with the barest hint of sarcasm. “I’ll put it with the other ones.”
Oh, Liz thinks. So it’s going to be that kind of book group. She waits for Austen to hang up her coat, and then follows her into the kitchen. “She brought wine,” Austen informs Sherri, who’s holding court around the kitchen island. “Like everybody else.”
“Looks like we all had the same idea!” Sherri smiles brightly at Liz. “I’m so glad you’re here. I think it’s going be awesome to have a professional in our group.”
“ A professional?” Liz has no idea what Sherri means. A professional reader? A professional wine drinker?
“A professional writer, of course! You can tell us all about the subtexts and
