When I risk a glance at him, his expression is unreadable, but those ridiculously blue eyes of his are intense in their gaze. I clear my throat. “Anyway, I should get back at it.”
“I’m going to take you up on your offer, you know.”
Dear Lord, what offer does he think I just made?
“I’m going to read your books. All of them.”
“Knock yourself out.”
* * *
The next morning, Liam arrives withThe Duchess and the Doctorin one hand and his toolbox in the other. He holds up the book, looking defeated.
"Let me guess, too much lace and not enough action. Couldn't get through it?"
"Couldn't put it down. I was up 'til two this morning, reading. I needed to know if they'd end up together."
I fold my lips in between my teeth, trying not to laugh.
"That damned Tabitha. What a wench she turned out to be."
He walks into my den and returns the book to its spot. "This the next one?" He pulls outThe Duke and the Dressmakerand flips it over.
"It is."
"Oh! It's about her brother?"
"William, yes."
"Good. He needs a happy ending after everything he's been through."
He leaves the room, then pops his head back in and says, “You know, Abby, maybe you should read them again. You might be surprised at how good they are.”
With that, he disappears, leaving me to think about what he just said. I stare at the shelf of books, realizing I appreciate what he didn’t say so much more. He didn’t tell me he knows I have another book in me, or that it would be a shame if I gave it up. He must know that’s too much for me to face. But reading one of my books would be like dipping my toe in the shallow end of the pool. Safe and informative. I’ll know the temperature before I’m all the way in to my nether regions.
I shut my laptop, walk over to the shelf, take downThe Duchess and the Doctor, and then sit back down at my desk to read.
Chapter Eighteen
You can’t blame gravity for falling in love.
~ Albert Einstein
School let out yesterday, which means today is the official start of my first full-time job since I was waiting tables at Gino’s on the Lower East Side. Not that I didn't work full-time as a writer, but this job has set hours and real people to whom I'll be accountable. When I was on my second glass of wine the other night, this all seemed like it would be so easy, but now I’m a little worried.
What if Olive’s been lulling me into a false sense of security, and she’s actually an evil genius who will make my life a living hell? Or what if it turns out too much time together will make us despise each other? Is that even possible? Can you hate a child? Or what if I run out of ideas for fun stuff to do by the end of the day, then we just sit and stare at each other for eight long weeks?
Isaac was wonderful in this type of situation. Not with children— he was actually quite awkward around them—but he was terrific at helping me rein in the runaway horses of anxiety that pound away in my brain from time to time. If he were here, he’d tell me to take it one day at a time. He’d also say I really only have to worry about the next eight hours because tomorrow is the start of a long weekend. This means I’ll have three days to scour the Internet for fun activities. Actually four, now that I think about it. Liam and Olive are going to New Brunswick to see his family, so I won’t see them until Wednesday morning.
I take a deep breath. Okay, that’s fine. I can handle one day, then a four-day break.
My cell phone pings just as I’m hurrying down the stairs to make coffee. It's an email from Lauren titled,I don’t want to rush you, but…
My heart sinks as I open it.
Erica and I had a breakfast meeting. She’s absolutely thrilled to hear you’re writing again! Any idea when you may be ready to share?
The horses in my stomach instantly morph into a guilt bowling ball. I’ve sat at my computer several times since our call. One evening, I wrote a few paragraphs about a woman who was trapped in a grocery store overnight. But then I promptly realized I had forgotten to eat supper and deleted them. That’s it. This weekend is do or die time. Or in my case, write or upset my dearest friend when I admit to being a total liar.
