“Well?” Meredith rolled her hand in the air to urge me to spill it.
“Romantasy.”
“Ooh,” Meredith and Colton said in unison.
“That’s big money,” Colton said. “I read an article about some woman who started off self-publishing romantasy stuff, and now she’s got, like, an empire. They’re making a movie based on her series. Maybe it’ll work out the same for you?”
I gave him the same indulgent smile I used on my parents’ friends when they asked when someone was going to turn one of my ghostwritten books into a movie. “Sadly, that’s the exception, not the rule. If Margo Delgato still hasn’t had one of her books adapted, the likelihood for little old me is nil. Her fantasy and romantasy books have been on the bestseller listforyears. And give me a chance to start writing the darn thing before we start dreaming up getting optioned.”
I wasn’t convinced that the idea would grow beyond the seedling stage.
“This is perfect,” Meredith said. “You’re going to finish upThe Rancher’sBlack MarketBaby, then get to work on this other book.”
“Why not both?” I asked, ignoring her purposeful title mangling.
The idea of writing two Liaison books at the same time felt impossible, but somehow my new concept kept edging me closer to attempting a twofer, or if I agreed to write the rest of the cowboy series, a fourfer. The pull to sketch out a few basic plot points had me scribbling ideas in the back of my notebook during sanctioned Austin and Abby time.
“Okay, make it happen, then,” Meredith replied, as pushy as ever.
After a dozen false starts with other books, she probably didn’t believe that I’d see this one through.
Colton’s phone chimed and he paused to read the text. “Here we go. Invitation to the official party of the summer issecured.”
“Oh, yay, the Hamptons over the Fourth of July holiday.” Meredith frowned. “We better leave now if we want to make it on time.”
When we’d moved to the city together after college, Meredith and I had done the Hamptons pilgrimage on a few weekends and decided that the overcrowded shared house situation and long lines at the bars weren’t for us.
Colton pointed at me. “You’re coming too, right?”
Meredith did prayer hands under her chin. “You can be my boot buddy when I want to leave the party early.”
“Whose party is it?” I asked.
“A guy from another firm in our building. I don’t know him well, but I tapped a few mutual friends to put in the good word for me and now we’re in. My boss said we can stay at his place in Sag Harbor for two nights since he’s still in France.”
“How many other people will be staying there?” I asked. I was too old to subject myself to fighting for sleeping space. “Because I aged out of sharing rooms a million years ago.”
“Agreed,” Meredith said.
“Aged out? Please, you’re not even thirty yet. Anyway, it’s just us,” he answered. “My boss said he’d kill me if we invited extra people over. Check it out.”
Colton scrolled on his phone, then held it out to me. The gray-shingled home in the photos was stunning and plenty big, plus it had a pool.
But I still wasn’t in a party frame of mind.
“Honestly, I think I want to just chill over the holiday...”
“I believe that someone is still contractually required to say yes,” Meredith reminded me. “Plus, I guarantee you’ll get tons of inspo during the trip.”
I frowned at her. “Please tell me how a ritzy beach town and a Montana ranch are related.”
Although we both knew that she was right. Getting me out of the apartment and into new scenarios always turned up something usable, even if it was only an unimportant side plot. But hey, word count was word count.
“Um, hold on you two.” Colton looked up from his phone and at me. “I have an update that might change your mind, Brooke.”
Meredith and I stared at him.
“The hosts of the party both work for Atria Capital. And you know who else does?”
