The Write Stuff (A Write Stuff Novel Book 1)

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The Write Stuff (A Write Stuff Novel Book 1) Page 18

by Tiffany King


  Karen was watching me intently when I realized I'd gone into one of my infamous silent modes. "Sorry. He had to go back home for a family emergency," I answered, mashing the button for the elevator.

  "Well, nuts." She looked forlorn before flashing me a smile. "I guess it's a good thing. I may have been tempted to steal him from you. Lucky girl. Are you headed down for the signing already?" She had noticed the cart I wheeled onto the elevator.

  "I decided to head down early so I can get a little work done. My room was too much of a distraction," I answered honestly. "Where are you headed?"

  She grinned sheepishly. "I'm going to check out the Georgia Aquarium for a couple of hours. You want to come?"

  I debated her question for a moment. If I went with her, it would help kill the morning before the signing, but it could also backfire if she continued to talk about Alec. "I better not. I've been a social media leper lately and I need to do some serious catching up. My notifications and messages on Facebook are pretty scary."

  "Honey, I can completely relate. By the way, huge congratulations on Wicked Lovely! I told you that book would go big. It's your best work yet."

  I blushed as the elevator doors opened, revealing a lobby full of people. "Thank you so much. And thank you for the blurb also." It helped to have a well known author provide a quote for the cover of the book.

  "The honor was all mine. Are you sure you don't want to go check out some fish with me?"

  I shook my head. "I better not. It's time I did a little work. Have fun though." I gave a little wave before heading toward the Starbucks.

  "You too. Tell your hottie we miss him," she said, blowing a kiss at me.

  My smile remained fixed until she walked out of the lobby. The moment she was out of sight, it dropped. In our short conversation I'd come to the conclusion that today was going to suck. Every single person who visited my table would expect to see Alec. I was going to have to field endless questions while smiling the entire time and pretending that my heart wasn't in shreds. Joy.

  My foreshadowing proved to be dead on. By the time the signing ended later that evening, I was ready to stab myself in the eye with my Sharpie, which was too bad considering it had been a complete success. The event was bittersweet. The success of Wicked Lovely had brought me more attention than I had seen during the previous events. Even without Alec, readers still flocked to my table. Not that they weren't asking about him, which only made me miss him more. The anger I'd held on to the night before was long gone, and all I felt now was sadness for what I no longer had. Time and time again throughout the day, I would hear or see something that I knew we would have laughed over. It felt like I'd not only lost the man I loved, but a close friend.

  I was tempted to text him. To ask about Lily, and to make sure he got home okay. I was searching for an excuse to maintain a connection to him.

  Eventually, I stowed my phone at the bottom of my bag so I wouldn't cave. Alec had made his intentions clear, and I needed to retain the small shred of dignity I still had. I would not contact him again.

  The evening was capped off by a special VIP reception for readers who had attended the signing. I had been able to cope during the day, but my sleepless night had finally caught up with me. I had become about as much fun as a zombie. I stuck around long enough to mingle with a few of the bloggers I knew before ducking out. I dragged myself up to my room and collapsed on my bed without bothering to undress.

  A dreamless sleep welcomed me, which was all I could ask for.

  ***

  "Sheesh, Nicole. You look like hell," Olivia greeted me when I opened the door for her the day after I returned home.

  "Hello to you too," I sniffled, blowing my nose with a tissue.

  "No, I'm serious. You look bad."

  I rolled my watery eyes, shuffling to the nest of blankets I'd set up on my couch. "Does that mean you don't want to make out?"

  She pretended to gag. "I'd rather drink bleach. When you said you were sick, I had no idea it was this bad."

  "Duh. Why would I exaggerate that?" I blew my sore nose again, wishing I could cut it off. In the last twenty-four hours, it had been like a faucet. I was ready to scream. It only seemed fitting that I would pick up the worst summer cold I'd ever had. Nothing like adding insult to injury.

  "I thought maybe you were wallowing."

  I had spewed all the sordid details about Alec and me over a bottle of cheap wine the last night of my book tour. As my friend, Olivia listened with a sympathetic ear, but I also knew she probably thought I was in idiot for even using the L-word. Like Alec, she had a phobia of commitments, and had dumped guys in the past for even hinting about getting that serious.

  "He hasn't mentioned anything about it, you know," she added when I chose not to comment.

  "I didn't ask."

  "I know. I'm just saying."

  "Well, stop." I loved Olivia, but I wasn't in the mood to start a conversation that had the potential to turn nasty.

  She sank down on the chair next to the couch, not wanting to get close to me. I was tempted to plant a big old smooch on her lips so I wouldn't be the only one miserable, but I could barely stop shivering as I pulled my blanket up to my chin. My fever had obviously returned from the night before.

  "Well, this sucks. I wanted to go out and celebrate. Wicked Lovely is ranked in the top ten on all the sites. How are we not screaming this from the rooftops?"

  "My throat is too sore for screaming." A ragged cough tore its way out of my mouth, emphasizing the point.

  "Damn, Nicole, you sound awful. You need to go see a doctor."

  "I'm fine. It's just a summer cold. I'm sure I got it from one of the germ incubators I flew in during the last three weeks. I'll be better in a couple days and we can celebrate then. My parents want to do something too." I rested my head against the arm of my couch. I didn't confess that several sleepless nights in a row had probably done little to help my health and well-being.

  "Fine, sicky. Speaking of your family, your mom called me yesterday. She wanted a list of your friends. I think she's planning a party."

  I rolled my eyes. "Oh lord. That seems a little pretentious, don't you think?"

  "You, pretentious? Is that even possible? You're the most humble person I know. I think a celebration is a great idea. You've worked hard, and I think you deserve it."

  I opened my mouth, but held off as a series of sneezes ripped through me. "Seriously, this cold is the asshole of all colds," I muttered when I finally stopped and had blown my nose loudly again.

  Olivia stood up, trying not to look too disgusted. "On that note, I think I'm going to bolt."

  I glared at her cold skittishness. What a baby. I really should have licked her.

  "I'm going to run to Publix. What do you need?"

  I forgave her abandonment and no longer felt I needed to pass my germs on to her with my tongue. "I want to marry you," I declared, blowing my nose again.

  "I'm flattered. What do you need, sicky?"

  "More tissues," I said, holding up the nearly empty box. "And OJ would be amazing." I hacked again.

  "Okie-dokie. I'll get chicken soup too. When I get back, I may do the ol' ring-the-bell-and-run trick."

  "Will you get me some 7UP too?" I added before she could close the front door.

  "Yeah, yeah," she said, waving as she left.

  Once she was gone, I slumped back against my sofa. My smile faded. I really did feel like crap, but beneath the cold was a deep-rooted sadness that I couldn't seem to shake. It had been four nights since Alec had walked out on me. Despite my own personal pep talks that there were other fish in the sea, I couldn't shake the feeling of loss. So, I tried to bury it. Maybe that was how I got sick. The cold made it easy for me to dwell in self-pity. Either way, they were both kicking my ass, and I needed to shake them.

  Severus jumped up on the couch, seeking some attention. At least he hadn't cared that I was sick. It took him a while to forgive me for leaving him alone for th
ree weeks, but once he got over it, he didn't leave my side. I turned up the volume on the television while Severus made bread dough on my lap. After a few minutes he had kneaded the blanket to his liking and settled in. I stroked a hand over the back of his head and he purred with approval.

  "I missed you, sweet boy," I crooned, scratching under his chin where he liked it the most. "Who needs guys when I have you?" He purred louder, obviously agreeing with me.

  I snuggled deeper into the cushions, trying to adjust to the way my body had ached all day. I hadn't planned on falling asleep when I closed my eyes, but that's exactly what happened. I welcomed the darkness. At least I would be free from the thoughts that bogged me down.

  Chapter Nineteen

  It took me almost a week to shake the cold, but by the time I was finally healthy, I was able to function without thinking about Alec every minute.

  During my recovery, I caught up everything I'd fallen behind on during my trip and even outlined a rough draft of my next book. For the most part, I did a lot of sleeping. Olivia and Mom took turns checking on me and keeping me company. I did end up going to the doctor when my fever spiked, and it turned out I had a case of strep throat.

  Despite being sick the entire week, there were some positives that happened. Wicked Lovely had made the major bestsellers lists and was still going strong. I'd been passed out in a medicated slumber when Olivia charged into my apartment with one of those horns you blow during New Year's Eve. It took me several minutes to process what she was so excited about, but once I did, I could hardly believe it. I could now call myself a New York Times Bestseller. My entire family had shown up to congratulate me as well, and we celebrated by eating pizza in my living room since I wasn't fit to leave my apartment.

  Mom threw herself into planning my party with the help of Olivia. Neither asked for my input, which made me happy. I still wasn't thrilled with the idea of holding a party to celebrate me. My objections fell on deaf ears, so I ignored their efforts for as long as possible until Olivia showed up on the day of the big celebration.

  In my typical fashion, it had been weeks since I had left my apartment. I was neck deep in book two of the Wicked Lovely series. The story was darker than my normal fare and I didn't need a psychiatrist to know why. All the emotions I had bottled up over my affair with Alec poured out in my writing. The story unfolded before my eyes. It wasn't exactly our story, but the passion and angst came directly from my soul. Never had a story flowed so effortlessly for me. It was like melted butter poured over popcorn.

  When Olivia showed up at my apartment to "style me up," I used the new book as an excuse to try to get out of the afternoon torture session she had arranged.

  "Absolutely not. You've been holed up in this apartment for almost a month, you hermit. Do you even know what the sun looks like anymore?"

  I shrugged my shoulders, glancing in my hallway mirror. So my skin was a bit pasty, but it was all in the name of sacrifice. With Wicked Lovely still holding on strong on the charts, I wanted to make sure I was able to release book two sometime in the fall. "I've peeked out the window. The sun is that big bright thing that makes it so hot outside."

  Olivia shook her head. "Good guess," she muttered. "Now learn to use a washing machine." I almost took offense to her comment until I looked at my yoga pants that were showing the signs of wear and tear. My tee shirt wasn't much better.

  "Fine, skank. You can fix me up for the party," I finally conceded.

  She took my words to heart and spent the afternoon giving me a complete makeover. From filing, buffing and painting my short nails to trimming and styling my hair. By the time she pushed me toward my bedroom to put on the dress she'd picked up for me, I was feeling pretty damn refreshed. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been pampered in such detail. I considered offering Olivia a raise and making these sessions regular occurrences. That way, I'd actually feel like a girl at least once a month.

  Looking at myself in the mirror hanging on the back of the door, I admired the elegant knot Olivia had worked into my hair. I unzipped the dress bag she had hung on my closet door, smiling with satisfaction when I saw the gorgeous bright pink summer dress with a full skirt. I probably would never have bought it for myself, but as I pulled it on over my head and spun around, the full skirt twirled around me and the bright color complemented my pale skin and light hair.

  I slid my feet in the silver strappy shoes Olivia had also bought and then stood in front of the mirror, studying my reflection. I no longer resembled a street urchin. Once again, Olivia had proved to be the best friend a girl could ask for.

  She entered my room without knocking and smiled at the fruits of her labor. "I knew that dress would be perfect. You look beautiful."

  "You did well, my friend," I said, linking my arm through hers. For a moment, we stood framed in my mirror and for the first time ever, I looked comfortable standing next to Olivia without feeling self-conscious.

  "Ready?"

  I nodded, feeling the first stirrings of excitement. Now that we were leaving, I realized it would be nice to get out of the apartment. Even if it was to attend a party in my honor. I would have to suffer through that part.

  "Are we picking up Taylor on the way?" I asked, sliding into the front seat of her car.

  She slid into the driver's seat before answering with a telltale shake of her head.

  "Oh no. What happened? I thought you guys were great together."

  She shrugged, backing out of the parking space. "He wanted more than I was willing to give. I liked being with him, but he wanted all that commitment-and-future kind of stuff. I'm too young to be thinking about tying myself down to someone right now."

  Her words were like a slap in my face. She had no idea how close they came to what Alec had said to me. It would seem that the two of them had more in common than he and I did. They both felt relationships were the equivalent of being tossed in a jail cell with no chance for parole.

  I decided to change the subject before the thoughts could completely funk up my mood. "I've decided to take next semester off."

  She wasn't as surprised as I thought she would be. "I suspected you probably would. I know getting your degree is important to you, and I'm sure you eventually will finish school, but honestly, you're already in your dream job. You're a walking, talking advertisement for the slogan 'Dreams do come true.'"

  "I do want my degree, and eventually I'll get there. I've just decided it doesn't need to be a race. Someday I'll have the diploma, and it'll look good framed on the wall, but beyond that, what will I do with it. I guess I'll have something to fall back on if this writing thing goes in the toilet."

  "I don't see that happening anytime soon," she said, grinning wickedly like she knew something I didn't.

  "Spill it," I demanded.

  She laughed with delight before answering. "Obviously, you haven't checked your emails today."

  "You know how I get when I'm writing. I haven't checked them in days."

  "Well, I'm not sure what it means exactly, but a literary agent emailed expressing her interest in Wicked Lovely. She asked if she could set up a phone conference with you."

  My heart kicked into overdrive. Other author friends of mine had signed with agents, and I had wondered if it was in the cards for me. "Are you kidding me?"

  She grinned broadly. "I would never joke about this, slutbag. I emailed her back and set up a time for tomorrow afternoon."

  "Holy shit. That's insanity. Do you know what this could mean?" I bounced in my seat with excitement.

  "This means we're one step closer to seeing you in bookstores, baby."

  "I think I'd pass out if that ever happened."

  "Better get ready, then. Mark my words: One day soon you'll need smelling salts."

  I laughed with glee. We had talked about this. What I would do if the opportunity arose, but I never put much stock into the conversations. Now that it was actually a possibility, I felt like a whole new door had been opened. I open
ed the email on my phone and for the rest of the drive, we analyzed every word, and what questions I should ask the following day.

  The party was already in full swing by the time we arrived. I wasn't surprised in the slightest. Olivia had this thing about never being the first person to show up anywhere. She never let it happen, claiming it made people look needy. I argued that at least showing up early meant everyone wouldn't be looking at you when you arrived late. Since she was orchestrating this night, I went with the flow.

  "Gah, how many people did you guys invite?" There had to be at least a dozen vehicles parked in the driveway and down the street of my childhood home.

  She shrugged, climbing from the car and lighting a cigarette. If I would have been more observant earlier, I would have picked up on the fact she was smoking again, thus ensuring Taylor was history. Olivia only smoked between dating guys. It was her coping mechanism. I'd tried to Dr. Phil her on more than one occasion, but eventually I let her have her vice. If it gave her the comfort she sought, then so be it.

  She put the cigarette out after only a few puffs and deposited it in Dad's trash bins on our way past the garage to the front door. Linking her arm through mine, we entered the crowded house together.

  "Sweetheart, you look lovely," Dad greeted me, sweeping me up in a bear hug.

  "Thanks, Daddy. Olivia waved her magic wand and this is what we got. The spell will be lifted by midnight and I'll return to my normal reclusive self."

  He laughed, ruffling my hair. Olivia glared at him playfully before smoothing it back in place. "Careful. My magic only stretches so far."

  "Holy cannoli. Is that Nicole?"

  "Can't be. That girl actually looks like a girl." If Zach and Tony weren't my brothers, their smart-ass remarks would get them a kick in the ass. I would let Olivia do it though. I wouldn't want to ruin my cute shoes.

 

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