“She’s sending me the paperwork now.”
“Stop lying!” I yelled. I jumped up and down, the adrenaline in my body producing involuntary movements that would otherwise be unheard of.
“This, of course, assumes that you wouldwanta lowly peasant such as myself representing the fine work of one Karlie London,” he said.
“Evan! Are youkiddingme? This is a fucking dream come true! Yes! I mean, ofcourse! I wouldloveto have you as my agent!”
“Well then, boo. I believe this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. There is one thing, though. I didn’t push for the two-book deal. I figured you might still be sore after everything that happened with Lindsay and Colin. Also, while I loved that manuscript, I didn’t want to carry overanydrama from Vision Board to Table of Contents. Plus, I don’t know if you thought about it in hindsight, but…it did kind of feel like a lawsuit waiting to happen.” Evan laughs. “I hope you’re not mad.”
“Mad? I can’t thank you enough! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
“I’ll send you over an agency contract.”
“You areunbelievable, you know that?” I asked.
“It’s no big thing, babe. I’ll just have my people call your people.” He laughed.
“Yes, Evan. You do that.”
“Oh my God! Speaking ofBabe, wedidend up fostering the potbellied pig.”
“Really?”
“Yes, and can I just be the first to tell you? Pigs arelife.”
“You have a heart of gold. What’s the piggie’s name?”
“Wilbur,” he announced, like a proud papa.
“LikeCharlotte’s Web. I love it, Ev. So I guess that means you’re off the bacon train now, right?”
“I’m actually thinking about becoming a vegan.”
I grinned. “So many good changes.”
“I’ll arrange for the two of you to meet sometime. But for now, keep an eye on your inbox for my contract! Peace out, Cub Scout! I’ll be in touch!”
I hung up with a grin on my face and tears in my eyes.Reckless Outlawhad a home at Cabaret Books, and I’d have a decent-sized nest egg put away for whatever I decide my next chapter will be.
And all within one full cycle of the moon’s revolution around the Earth.
Something else happened too.
You know the saying,Karma’s a bitch? Of course you do. You weren’t born under a rock.
Well, I was minding my own business, finishing up my shift at Starbucks last Friday night. I had no plans other than to get to bed early, because I was getting to a pretty critical point in my new novel and really wanted to keep the momentum alive for the early Saturday writing session I had planned. So, I cleaned up my workstation, went into the back and grabbed my things, then said goodbye to the closing staff and headed home. I was daydreaming about what I might do with my $500,000, other than pay off my condo. I thought about maybe buying a small cottage for myself somewhere near the water, like maybe in Breezy Point, Neponsit, or Belle Harbor, somewhere in the Rockaways where I’d still be close enough to the city to hang out with my girls. I considered getting my driver’s license and buying a car.I’d look cute in a zippy little Honda Civic.I could buy groceries at the Stop & Shop on 116th Street and live a quiet, easy little life. Just me and Dorian Gray. And maybe Colin, if he’d have me.
I unlocked the door to my building, stopped at the mailbox to get my mail, and was thumbing through the bills on the elevator. When I got to the second floor, I heard sobbing. Not just crying, but all-outsobbing. I turned to head down the hall and was shocked—not even surprised, but honestlyshocked—to see Scott, rumpled-up and sitting on the ground outside my apartment. His head was resting on his denim-clad knees and his arms were wrapped around his legs. As I approached him, I could smell the alcohol emanating from his pores.
“My God. Scott?” I asked.
He looked up. His red-rimmed eyes were puffy and flanked by dark circles.
“What are you doing here?” I wondered aloud.
“I’m sorry, Gracie.” He sniffled.
“How did you get in?” I asked.
