“Can we really send it. Like now?” she asked, afraid it might all be a horrible mistake.
“I don’t see why not.” Harper shrugged and came to stand behind Natalie’s chair. “Open up your email. Let’s send this baby.”
Shaking now, Natalie opened the browser, found the latest email from Allen and hit reply. “Just attach the Word document?”
“Yes.”
“What do I write? Do I need like a cover letter?”
“No. You can be casual. Something saying that the file is attached. And he should let you know if he has any problems accessing it.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Natalie glanced up at Harper. “I’m nervous.”
“I know. I still feel that way when I send something off even after all the books I’ve submitted. But listen, once you hit that send button, we can celebrate.”
“I can take a shower. And finally watch that new series that dropped on Netflix,” Natalie said wistfully.
“And take care of the To Do list of everything else you ignored while we’ve been busy on the book. There’s no more reason to ignore it all now,” Harper reminded.
Natalie slumped again, remembering the income tax stuff she had to prepare for her accountant for her upcoming annual appointment. And the fact she hadn’t done laundry in like two weeks.
With a groan, Natalie glanced up at Harper. “Now I’m depressed.”
“Welcome to life as a writer, Nat. It’s not all champagne and chocolate bonbons like people think.”
Refusing to feel defeated after the huge accomplishment they’d just completed without Lionel’s help, Natalie jumped up. “I don’t have bonbons but champagne I have. You up for a glass?”
Harper glanced at the screen of her cell phone. “What time is it?”
“Too early to drink?” Natalie asked.
Harper laughed. “Never. I was just wondering if it was so early we needed to add some sort of juice to our champagne so we could call it a mimosa. But hell, it’s almost noon. Pop that bottle. I’ll get the glasses.”
Natalie smiled. This part of publishing she liked.
With Jules still handling the store, the book done and in the editor’s inbox, and a glass and a half in her stomach without the benefit of lunch, Natalie was feeling pretty good. A little sleepy. But in general all around relaxed and happy.
“You know, now the book is done, we’re going to have to turn our attention to the Mudville article,” Harper reminded her.
Natalie frowned. “Hush up, you. You’re harshing my mellow.”
Harper laughed. “Sorry. But the end of one project just means the beginning of the next.”
Natalie sagged back against the chair. “Can’t we just feed all the information into like Chat-GBT and let AI write the article?”
Harper narrowed her eyes. “Bite your tongue, woman. AI might take over all our jobs in the future, mine as a writer especially, but I refuse to use it now. Human writing only. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry.”
“So, just in case Lionel doesn’t return we should start sorting through all those papers you found, compare the information in there with Lionel’s research, make a list of inaccuracies and then write that Mudville article.” Harper ticking off that exhausting list of tasks was more than Natalie could take.
“Nuh, uh. Nope.” Natalie shook her head. “We can talk about the article tomorrow. I demand you give me at least the rest of today off from thinking. I mean don’t we deserve it? We accomplished an amazing feat. We finished Lionel’s book and emailed it off to the publisher, all without him.”
“You did what!” Lionel roared.
