They stared at each other across the study, a silent battle of wills. Riley came to stand between them, gaze bouncing back and forth, his tail beating faster with the tension. A soft whine cut through the tension, and her eyes dropped to the Wolfhound before calling him over to scratch behind his ears.
“Once a week, ninety minutes.” He found himself grudgingly feeling a small amount of respect for how she handled his mood. When she simply stared at him, his shoulders dropped in defeat. “Twice a week. Sixty minutes each and ten-minute morning check-ins. That’s final.”
She nodded, the corners of her mouth lifting in a small smile. He felt a sense of déjà vu as he looked at her, something funny twisting in his chest. He quickly lowered his gaze as he returned to his chair.
“Agreed,” she said simply, before leaving his study.
He looked up, his eyes lingering on her back as she left. A mix of irritation and confusion flooded his mind as he tried to figure out what had just happened. That smile of hers made it clear she had won this round, and apparently not just in terms of the book.
Looking down, he found she had left the manuscript on his desk, her red ink staring up at him, almost daring him to look at her suggestions. Slowly, cautiously, he picked them up—as if expecting them to bite him. With a sigh of defeat, he beganflipping through the pages to find out what the formidable Saint Sadie, savior of lost and broken authors, had suggested.
***
-Sadie-
Sadie fell back onto the quilted bed that evening. The faint scent of lavender, combined with the steady patter of rain against the windowpane, eased the lingering tension from her body. She kicked off her boots and let herself sink deeper into the mattress with a contented sigh.
Her body was weary from a day spent trying to wrangle Corbyn’s scribbles into something closer to the work she knew he could produce. It was a strange juxtaposition to the buzz of success. He had reluctantly agreed to her terms, but only after careful negotiation. She had suspected his pride in his work would be the key to breaking down his resistance, and she had been right.
It had come at a cost, though. His comment about not needing a nanny had struck a familiar chord within her, conjuring up arguments from her past. She had quickly pushed those feelings aside, not wanting him to see the moment of doubt and weakness, but it didn’t change the fact that his words had hit their mark.
A cheerful chime broke the silence, and she pushed herself up so she could retrieve her tablet from her bag. Jess’s name appeared on the screen, and she felt herself perk up at the prospect of talking to her best friend. If anyone could ease her fears, it was Jess.
Accepting the call, she leaned back against the headboard of the bed, a smile forming when she saw Jess’s familiar face on the screen. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed Jess already, as she propped the tablet against a pillow.
“Sadie! There you are,” Jess exclaimed, her smile brightening Sadie’s mood even further. “Well? How’d it go with our recluse?”
“I survived the first two days,” she said. “He tried to fight me this morning when I said we needed regular meetings to discuss edits. But, I got him to commit to check-ins and a couple of longer meetings each week.”
“Well, you’re already miles ahead of everyone else who’s worked with him,” Jess said, and Sadie watched a proud smile tug at her friend’s lips. “I told you that you were a miracle worker.”
Sadie couldn’t help but laugh, although she wasn’t sure she deserved the title. Corbyn had already managed to stumble upon her buried insecurities.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” she replied, studying the way her fingers twirled around a loose thread from the comforter. “He hasn’t actually taken any of my notes yet.”
“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” Jess advised, her face softening in understanding. “He’ll come around once he realizes your process works.”
Sadie hesitated, doubt flickering like a shadow in the back of her mind.
“I hope so. This book truly does have the potential to be a bestseller, but what if I push too hard? He’s just… he can be tough to read, and I don’t want him to shut down because he thinks I’m nagging him.”
Jess tipped her head slightly, her voice softer when she replied, “So, you let him stew until he realizes you’re right.”
She dipped her head in a quick nod, the hard knot in her chest loosening as she exhaled. Jess always seemed to know exactly what to say when Sadie doubted her abilities.
“Thanks, Jess. I was running on empty after today.”
“Always got your back,” Jess said, her grin widening, bolstering Sadie even through the screen. “Alright, enough shop talk,” Jess said, leaning closer to the screen. “How’s my favorite world traveler holding up in the wilds of England? Found any cute pub locals to sweep you off your feet yet?”
Sadie snorted, a sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan, as she tugged the quilt higher over her knees.
“Oh, sure, between wrangling Pearce and dodging rain puddles, I’m a regular Elizabeth Bennet.”
“Well, as long as you’re not letting your thoughts be haunted by a certain asshole back here in New York, I fully support you using your free time to be just that,” Jess said with a little smirk. “You need to find your spark again, Sadie… and maybe England can do that for you.”
“God, I miss you,” Sadie admitted, voice soft. “This place is growing on me, but it’s not going to be the same without your terrible singing on karaoke night.”
“Rude!” Jess gasped, clutching her chest in mock offense. “My ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ is a masterpiece, and you know it.”
