Meeting Mr Write
Page 1
Meeting Mr Write
By Cassandra P Lewis
Text copyright © 2012 Cassandra P Lewis
All Rights Reserved
For Dad
Table of Contents
Meeting Mr Write
For Dad
Table of Contents
Introduction
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
Chapter Thirty Three
Chapter Thirty Four
Introduction
It’s almost eleven am; if I’m late for this meeting I’m screwed. I run through the lobby of the Harbour building towards the elevators, which isn’t easy on a marble floor in heels, I press the button to call the elevator about twenty times, “come on” I say out loud, willing the lift down to the ground floor just as I hear the welcome ping and rush forward.
“God sorry sweetie. World of my own!” I’m nearly flattened by a man coming out of the lift but I don’t have time for polite exchanges,
“No probs” I’m too well brought up to be impolite and look up with a smile, wow he is gorgeous, ‘Hello Mr tall dark and handsome bulldozer’, I sneak a peek as the lift doors close; and thank London traffic and bad time management for that delicious distraction.
I step out of the lift into the reception of Gold Square Publishing and Sarah, the far too sweet receptionist immediately informs me that it’s time to face my fate.
“Hi Rosetta. You're just in time. Francesca is ready for you” she smiles and I swear I see pity in her eyes.
As I enter the cluttered office of the incomparable Francesca Franklin I know I look decidedly sheepish, I know why I’m here, what I don’t know is where this meeting will leave my career. I’m trying to appear professional and competent in a dark blue camisole and matching pencil skirt, but inside I’m squirming, I feel like I’ve been summoned to the headmistress’s office for consistent non-submission of homework.
“Rosetta darling, wonderful to see you” she spins in her chair and if I wasn’t so nervous about the meeting I would have laughed out loud at her James Bond villain impression. I sit, and can clearly see the disappointment in the eyes of the woman that holds my future as a writer in her hands. “Thank you ever so for making the trip in Rosie; it’s been such a long time,” I open my mouth to respond, but Ms Franklin holds out her hand, palm towards me, hushing me in an instant “as I’m sure you’re aware Rosie I’ve called you here because we have a problem, don’t we?” she clasps her hands together on her desk and tilts her head to the side as though she is addressing an errant child “the deadline for the book was two months ago, and yet here we are, most of the way through October and still no book!” Francesca shakes her head and waves her hands across the manuscript on her desk, as if to demonstrate to me that mine isn’t there. “We have critics and fans waiting for the next 'Rosie Alvez' but you have given me absolutely no indication as to when I can expect a finished novel. There’s only so much damage control I can and will do” with this she stops and I think it’s my turn to speak…
My name is Rosetta Alvez, I’m twenty six, and I’m a romance novelist, well I’m supposed to be but I’m a little short on inspiration right now. About ten months ago I attended a wedding, my wedding as it happens, but it appears that my groom didn’t get the invite. Being jilted on the most important day of your life tends to sap any romance right out of you and so here I am, sitting in my publisher’s office trying to find the words to explain that I have acute writer’s block on account of my heart being ripped out, in front of all of my family and friends.
I try to speak but there's that hand again, “Rosetta, here’s the thing; you have brought a lot of money in to Gold Square Publishing in the past, and money talks. We are willing to give you an extension on the deadline. You have three months to get a manuscript on my desk. I think you’ll agree that this is beyond generous?”
“Yes, Francesca, thank you” I feel thoroughly berated and a little frustrated that I came all the way here to say just four words,
“Rosetta. Three months. I can do no more than that!” Francesca returns her gaze to the manuscript on her desk and it’s clear that our meeting is over.
Back at my flat I pace the floor trying to get my head in the game. A year ago I had hundreds of ideas, but now there’s nothing. “You can do this Alvez” I say out loud to myself. I sit at my desk with my essential book writing ingredients, laptop, coffee, chocolate, I’m just missing one thing, a story. My mind is blank. I try to convince myself that I can do it “Come on Rosie, this is what you do” but as my forehead hits the desk and I see the piles of crumpled paper, Kit Kat wrappers, Red Bull cans and takeaway boxes around the bin I realise that I can’t do this, I have nothing to write. I need inspiration… I need a break.
Chapter One
Pippa Carvalho is my best friend, I’m absolutely certain that she is clinically insane, but I adore her.
“Are you kidding Rosie? Hell Yes I’m up for a holiday! Where shall we go? How about Ibiza? Oooh Cancun...” I can hear her drifting off into a daydream of paradise and cocktail waiters.
“Actually Pip, I was thinking more exotic like Asia, Goa maybe or Sri Lanka? I don’t know”
“Now you’re talking Alvez, yeah I’m up for that. You find a place and let’s book it before you pull a Rosie on me!”
I suppose I should explain what she means by that...I Rosie Alvez am a wimp! I chicken out of everything for fear of looking stupid or making a mistake. The old Rosie was brave and outgoing, but Michael my ex had a skill for pointing out my flaws, usually in front of an audience and resulting in my public humiliation. Ironically the one time I didn’t run for cover was my wedding day, but we’ve already established how that turned out.
Having agreed to meet Pippa at one pm to go to the travel agents, I decide to spend the next hour doing a bit of research and head for Parker’s Books. I love being in a bookshop, don’t get me wrong I’ve done really well on e-books, and my own Kindle is never far from my side, but for me a bookshop is a haven. Normally I would be in here browsing the romance section, or more recently looking at the crime novels, ‘How to murder your lying cheating ex without getting caught’ is my current theme of choice, but not today, today I find myself in the travel section.
Lost with a whole continent to choose from, I call the devil on my shoulder.
“Pippa help! How the hell are you supposed to plan a holiday in Asia if you’ve never been to Asia? There are so many travel guides, how do I know which is the right one?” I can hear myself and I know I sound ridiculous,
“Rosie, be impulsive, let’s just go to the travel agents, book anything and go let our hair down” she sighs down the phone “what did that bastard do to you Ro? You’re way over thinking this babe, let’s just go and have fun”
“Ok, I guess you’re right. See you in a bit then”
I say what I need to say to get her off the phone and pick up the pocket travel guide from the centre of the table display in store, ‘Thailand - how to get by on a smile’ by Jackson James. I turn the book over ‘Gold Square Publishing’ typical! I want to put the book back, not wishing to put any more money into Francesca Franklin’s pocket right now, but the pristine white sand beach and turquoise sea on the cover sells it...that is exactly what I need
“Carvalho, you are the worst time keeper in the world!” I exasperate as Pippa finally saunters up to the travel agents where we were supposed to meet twenty minutes ago,
“Rosie I know I’m sorry but they called to me” she looks pitiful as she raises the shopping bags in her hands and sticks out her bottom lip “Come on RoRo, let’s do this.”
The young girl behind the counter in Morton Travel greets us with an excited smile as she stands ready to pounce,
“Ladies, good afternoon, what can I do for you?” As we get closer I notice that she’s younger than she first appeared. The layers of thick make up that she’s wearing age her considerably, but she’s extremely pleasant and eager to help.
“We’d like to book a holiday, we’re thinking maybe India, or Thailand” I show the book to Pippa and squirm, realising that I haven’t mentioned Thailand yet, she just smiles at me and then the travel agent, either she’s oblivious or she just doesn’t care as long as it’s hot.
“Show us the deals Saskia” Pippa pipes up, becoming too familiar as she clocks the girls name badge with a huge grin and an ever present mischievous glint in her eye.
“Ok then, take a seat girls; let’s see what we can do for you” We sit down facing Saskia, Pippa smiles at me; she is excited to see what Saskia comes up with.
“Right then, where in Thailand are you thinking?” Pippa and I look at each other, we don’t have a clue, we laugh and Saskia joins in with a giggle and I finally relax.
“Let’s take a different approach then, what kind of holiday do you want, Thailand has pretty much everything on offer. Whether you want pure relaxation, culture or wild parties, it’s all there”
“All of the above?” Pippa smiles her genuine smile and Saskia mirrors
“Ok well, I’d suggest you do part of your holiday in one resort and spend some time in another to get a good mix, how long are you going for?”
“Three weeks” I pipe up quickly before Pippa commits us to 6 months abroad, she frowns and I smile, when you’ve been friends as long as we have words aren’t always necessary.
“Well girls, I spent three months in Thailand two years ago and for what you’re after, I think Krabi would be perfect. You can spend some time in Ao Nang at a great hotel, relaxing, eating delicious food. There’s a perfect mix of chilled and wild nightlife and it’s in easy reach of some great cultural tourist attractions, then how about spending a few nights in a beach hut on long beach, Phi Phi? The island used to be the ultimate paradise resort but has completely changed since the tsunami, however I still love it. It’s young, fun and beautiful. Long Beach is a haven from the madness of main island area, but everything is easily reachable by long tail boat or you can walk it in the daytime”
Wow, Saskia knows her stuff. Pippa and I look at each other and for the first time I feel incredibly excited, I can’t wait to experience this amazing place. Pippa and I almost squeal with excitement and smile at Saskia, “Right then, let’s find you somewhere to stay”
An hour later we’re all booked up. We got a great deal because we’re going at short notice and right at the beginning of the busy period. Saskia advises that we take sterling travellers cheques and exchange our money over there as we’ll get a better exchange rate, but advises we order them today as we go in just eight days. Eight days to wax, pluck, shop and pack. I cannot wait.
Chapter Two
Thailand, again…I really do have the best job in the world. Beautiful women, cheap beer, amazing food and stunning scenery, of all of the countries that I have been to, Thailand is definitely my favourite.
My last Thailand guide focused on the tourism, hostels, day trips etc. but this one will be different; this one will be the real ‘Jackson James’, not a Gold Square Publishing interpretation of who I am and what they want me to write. I’m not complaining though, Gold Square is the best thing that’s happened to me, I get to travel the world and make money doing it.
My name is Jackson James, I’m twenty nine and I’m a travel writer. I started blogging while I was backpacking after university, my former journalism lecturer sent a link to my blog over to a friend of his at Gold Square and they offered me an opportunity to write a travel guide. I had no idea that seven years later I’d still be doing it, but I guess as they say, the rest is history.
“Hi gorgeous, missed me?” I step out of the elevator and Sarah the receptionist at Gold Square just rolls her eyes at my greeting. She hates me ever since I took her out to show her the sights of London, and my bedroom ceiling when she moved here from Newcastle four months ago and then never called her again.
“Jackson, honey, it’s been far too long” the delightful Francesca Franklin steps out of her office to greet me. I use the term delightful lightly of course, the woman can’t be more than forty five, but she closely resembles Yoda in a dress. The years have not been kind to Ms Franklin, the publishing business however, has.
“Francesca. Where have you been all my life?” I tease sitting down, in the hideous green leather arm chair in front of her desk,
“Oh Jackson dear, wouldn’t you like to know!?” she giggles like a teenage girl “So...Thailand? Again? Is there really much more to say?” I wish I could say that she was kidding, but for someone earning the almost offensive amount of money that she does, Francesca Franklin has very little interest in the world outside of London
“Oh Francesca, you know me, too much to say, too few pages!” I know she finds me utterly charming, women usually do. My way with the ladies is something that I have fine-tuned and it’s gotten me into a very many beds over the years “This one will be different Frankie, the real Thailand, off the beaten track”
“Well Mr James, I know you’ll deliver” she sucks the air in through her tobacco stained teeth in what I think is an attempt at seduction “you always do!”
I stand to leave “Oh Jackson, here, some bedtime reading” she hands me a book from her desk drawer “maybe it’ll teach you a thing or two” and with a wink and a cackle that would terrify small children she waves her hand to dismiss me from her office. I shudder as I step into the elevator to leave, she wants me, bad…I shudder again!
In the elevator, I push the button for ground and glance at the book in my hands, ‘Bridge over Troubled Water’ by Rosie Alvez. Oh Jesus, a romance novel. Believe me Franklin, there’s nothing in here I don’t already know. Lost in the blurb on the back of the book I almost flatten the poor woman switching places with me on the ground floor,
“God sorry sweetie. World of my own!” I hold up my hands in apology,
“No probs” she glances her face towards me and half smiles, wow! Red hair, green eyes, she’s gorgeous. I turn and sneak a look as the lift doors close, it’s been a while since I’ve had a red head, maybe I’ll drop by Gold Square more often.
In the cab back to my apartment I look once more at the pitiful piece of writing in my hands, I don’t need to read it, I already know the story. Girl meets boy, boy messes up, girl forgives boy and they live happily ever after. I open the front cover
For my Michael
My one, my only, my everything
The classic soft arsed dedication, this is so far ticking all the boxes of a truly shitty book. I turn the page,
About the Author
Rosie Alvez was born Rosetta Penelope Alvez on 23rd March 1986 in Córdoba, Spain. The only daughter of Joaquin & Bernadette Alvez, the family relocated, joined by Rosie’s brother Rafael, to Buxton, Derbyshire in 1991 where they still own a successful
tapas bar. Alvez excelled in creative writing during her formative years and went on to study English Language & Communication with Journalism at the University of Hertfordshire, graduating with first class honours in 2008.
Alvez’s book of short stories titled ‘Love and Something Similar’ was published in 2007, whilst she was still at university, and her first novel ’50 Minute Romance’ catapulted her to the top of Amazon’s 100 best new literary talents poll in 2009. Alvez’s mix of humour, sex and good old-fashioned romance have made her one of the most highly rated young writers published today.
Alvez lives in central London with her accountant fiancé, Michael English.
More books by Rosie Alvez –
Love and Something Similar
50 Minute Romance
As We Know It
Mail Order Husband
Live and Let Love
I’m intrigued, she’s only twenty six. I know what, and who I was doing at that age and trust me it wasn’t all hearts and flowers, maybe this will be worth a read after all.
Chapter Three
“Great work out today girls. Have a great time and I’ll see you when you’re back. We’ll work off those post-holiday lbs.!” Freddy is our personal trainer, Pippa and I always work out together, mostly because I don’t have the confidence to go alone, but also because Pippa can’t get through a work out without flirting with anyone within a 2 metre radius and I need to keep her in check,
“Hey Freddy, not hitting the showers with us?” she smiles her ‘I would eat you alive smile’
Freddy laughs but smiles back just as confidently, “Not today Pippa, maybe one day, if you’re lucky”
“Oi, slagbag, when you’re finished…” that gets her attention
“I’m coming, I’m coming…steam?” Pippa winks and heads towards the changing rooms,
“Yeah why not”
I love the steam room after a workout, I like to sit quietly and breathe in the aromatherapy oils, but Pippa doesn’t know what quiet means.