“I shared all the sordid details of the demise of my relationship and told her to use it in her manuscript. So, she wrote all about it and sent it straight to the inbox of my ex-wife.”
“Oh, wow. And you had no idea she was Elle’s client?”
“None. I should have asked. I couldn’t find any of her books online, which led me to believe she was working under a pen name, but I was so caught up that I never asked.”
“So, where is she now?”
“Who? Elle?”
“No. Gracie,” Daisy says.
“She’s at home, I think.”
“Then why are you still here?” Daisy winks.
I sigh. “She needs space, I think. This was a huge deal. I may have screwed her out of a ton of money.”
“So then, it’s like I said. You need to fix it.”
“IknowI need to fix it. I just don’t know how.”
“Speak her language,” Daisy says.
“What does that mean? She only speaks English.”
“No, you dingbat. She’s a writer. So,writeto her.”
I’m struck by the idea. It’s so simple. “You’re smart, you know that?”
“Like a wise old owl.” She smiles. Then she says, “Get to it,” and shows herself out, gently closing the door behind her.
I sit back down at my desk, take a deep breath, crack my knuckles, and begin typing.
Gracie
Lindsay’s phone call wakes me up from my state of hibernation. Idon’t want to have to call her back, so I put on my best attempt at a normal-sounding voice and answer the phone.
“Hello?” I say.
“Grace,” she says. There’s none of her usual pep, no inflection, just my name, a single syllable, a guttural utterance of her diaphragm.
My throat constricts and I fight my gag reflex. “Hi, Lindsay.”
“Let’s skip the small talk,” she says. “I’m sure you’ve talked to Colin.”
“Yes,” I say. I sit up on the couch, trying to monitor my breathing.
“I don’t appreciate what you did.”
“I didn’t know, Lindsay.”
“He told me that, and I believe you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I believe that too. But there’s no way we can sell that book. I won’t do it.”
“No. Of course. I understand,” I say.
