“We can give you two more weeks to get the final draft on my desk.”
I rock backward.“Two weeks?It took me a month to write those first few chapters.”
She pushes the manuscript across the table.“You better find some inspiration in the arms of that man of yours and get typing.”
I’m almost in tears by the time I hail a cab and climb into the back seat.I flip through the manuscript, ignoring the traffic and the super chatty cab driver, as I read through the comments left by my agent and editor.
Every book is a small piece of my soul, and their red slashes and critical words cut me deeply.No one wants to hear how dreadful something they’ve created is.Nothing kills enthusiasm for a writer more than being told something flat out sucks.
I’m so in my head, tears streaming down my face and clutching my manuscript to my chest, I don’t even notice Vinnie standing near the elevator when I walk into the lobby.
“What’s wrong?”he asks.
My eyes shift from the marble floor to his green eyes.“Just a bad day.”I don’t know why I lie.I don’t want to be the whiny girl.The one with issues all the time.So sometimes, it’s easier to pretend everything is great.
Vinnie closes the space between us, holding my arm with one hand and my face in the other.His thumb brushes against my cheek, wiping away a tear.“It looks like more than a bad day, Bianca.Tell me what happened.”
“My book is shit.”The tears flow harder as I say the words.The way he’s looking at me doesn’t help either.I sob, slurring together a string of words about how hurt I am by the comments left by my editor, but I’m pretty sure he can’t understand anything I’m saying.
“Your books are great, baby.”He gives me a sad smile, trying to wipe away the tears as fast as they fall.
“Not this one,” I sob.
He pulls me into a tight embrace, rubbing my back and whispering soothing words.The smell and feel of Vinnie calm me, making me forget about everything Susan said.“I think we need to get out of the city for a few days,” he says.
I peer up at him as I step out of his embrace.“I can’t.I have to rewrite most of this damn book.”I lift the manuscript I’ve been clutching, showing him the splotches of red everywhere.
“Bring your work with us.Maybe you’ll find some inspiration.”
“That’s not how it works.I only write at my desk.”
He raises an eyebrow.“How’s that been working?”
I grumble under my breath because it’s been sucktastic according to my editor and Susan.
“Anyway, you write with a laptop.Your desk is wherever you make it.”
“And what are you going to do?Just sit there and watch me work?”
He shakes his head.“I can entertain myself.Besides, I have a very strict workout regimen.I just want a few hours a day alone with you, and the rest you can work.”
“I don’t know.We barely know each other, Vinnie.”
“Do you trust me?”
“I do.”
He glances down at the manuscript as the elevator doors open.“Where does the story take place?”
“Tahiti,” I say, stepping inside the tiny space with him.
“I only have four days off from camp, so that’s too far, but I’ll figure something out.Leave everything to me.Just pack a bag and be ready to go in the morning.”
“Vinnie, I don’t think we should…”
He places his finger over my lips, silencing me.“No arguments, Bianca.We both could use some time away to clear our heads.”
He’s right.The last thing I want to do is sit in my loft, staring out the window as the cursor blinks on the screen like it’s taunting me.
