“Abby, stop it,” she says, covering her smile with both hands. “It’s not funny. This is very serious.”
I sigh. “Tell her my sense of humor is intact, so you take that as a solid indicator that there’s no need to worry.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “How can I be sure you aren’t just trying to throw me off?”
Giving myself a moment to think, I stare at the ceiling before answering. “Because I haven’t done it yet. If I were going to do it, it would have been months ago, when I couldn’t stop crying for more than a five-minute stretch. Not now, when I’m comfortably numb.”
“See, when you say it that way, it doesn’t exactly sound reassuring.”
My shoulders drop. “I can’t believe we’re even talking about this.”
The kettle whistles and I turn to the stove. When I finish filling the pot, I take it over to the island and set it down. “Look, I’m just taking a little time out from life right now. It’s all good, though, I promise. I’ll be venturing out into the world soon enough.”
“Starting when?”
“I don’t know. Soon.” I cross the room and take two mugs out of the cupboard. “Next Wednesday at three fifteen p.m. Eastern Standard Time.” I turn back to her with an impish grin that I hope will work.
She doesn’t return my smile. “I’m holding you to that. You’re on notice, Abigail Carson.”
“Okay, boss lady.” My tone suggests that she really doesn’t have control over me, even though deep down I’m a little scared of her and she knows it.
Her face softens as her eyes pass over my fleece frog-print robe. “Not today, but when you’re ready, I need to talk to you about your contract with Titan.”
My stomach tightens. Even though I knew this was coming, I was hoping it would be longer in getting here. “I’m pretty sure I already know what you’re going to say. When do they want the advance back?”
She sighs and says, “This can wait.”
“I can tell by the look on your face that it can’t. How long do I have?”
“Thirty days to start making installments unless you can come up with the entire forty-five thousand at once. Or maybe…” She pauses and gives me a hopeful yet terrified look. “You managed to write an entire novel without mentioning it?”
Thirty days. My entire body goes numb and I want to sink into the couch and pull a blanket over my head. Instead, I give her a confident nod. “No problem. I can write them a check.” I think.
“They’ve been at me for almost six months now, and I’ve held them off as long as I could,” Lauren says. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. I just can’t seem to...” My voice is barely audible, even in my own ears.
“Erica said that when you start writing again, she’ll look at anything you do. Of course, they want you to finish the Duchess series, but if that’s too hard right now and you want to write something else, they’ll read it. She said to tell you she’s sorry, but accounting is on her ass about it.”
I stare out the window for a moment as I let this information sink in. “The thing is, Lauren, it’s kind of hard to write lighthearted historical romance when nothing is remotely funny anymore, and after you figure out there is no such thing as happily ever after.”
Nodding, she says, “So maybe try something new. Just keep the historical part and write, I don’t know…horribly depressing drama.”
I manage to curve my lips upward for a second, then let them drop. “There’s just no part of me that wants to create anything. I honestly don’t know if I’m a writer anymore.”
“Oh, Abby, don’t say that. Maybe you’re not ready to go back to it at the moment, but you can’t give up. It’s who you are.” She rests her hand on mine. Her palm is warm and soft and the feeling of another human touching me brings an unwelcome swell of emotion.
“Maybe you could try something else—just for a little while—until you feel inspired again. Work in a flower shop or a bookstore or something. Anything so you’ll have—” She stops herself when she sees the glare on my face.
“A reason to get up in the morning?” I quip, pulling my hand away. “He’s gone.”
Lauren sighs, and the look on her face says she’s as defeated as I intended her to be. Her cell phone buzzes and she glances at it. “Shit. I need a new assistant. The one thing I needed her to do was reschedule my three o’clock, but it looks like she hasn’t managed it.”
“You were going to take the afternoon off for me?”
Lauren nods.
Don’t I feel like a total bag?“That’s really not necessary. I’m doing fine.”
