They say that things heal with time, but I don’t buy it. It’s been a week since Michael came to see me at the bookstore and I don’t feel better in the slightest.
The only thing that has helped is being contacted by Hatfield Literary Agency this morning. I was surprised when they called, because I haven’t done a single thing with my manuscript, but Geoff has lots of contacts through the store. He’s been banging on about how great he thinks my novel is, and obviously believes in it a great deal if he’s gone out of his way to get it into the hands of an agent. If I’m lucky, they’re calling me in here as more than just a favor to Geoff.
And if I’m really lucky, this will distract me from thinking about Michael.
My stomach pinches with nerves as I glance around the lobby of the Midtown building where I’m meeting Natalie from Hatfield Agency. The marble floor gleams in the afternoon sunlight that streams in through the huge glass windows, making the expansive space too bright. It’s one of those winter days that looks beautiful, but is so cold and crisp you can’t be outside for long.
I pull my phone out, checking the time. I’m early, so I fire off a text to Emily.
Alex: Guess where I am right now? Meeting with a literary agent about my romance novel. Eek!
Emily: Oh hon, that’s amazing!
Alex: Yeah. I’m a bit nervous. Don’t know what to expect.
Emily: Don’t be nervous. Just be your lovely self and you’ll wow them! Your book is awesome and they’d be idiots not to love it.
Despite myself, I smile, feeling my nerves settle a little. I emailed a copy of my novel to Emily a few days ago and she’s been sending me inappropriate emojis to show me how much she’s enjoying it. Needless to say, there have been quite a few eggplants in my inbox.
I slip my phone away as a slim woman comes striding across the lobby towards me, her patent black heels clicking on the marble. She’s wearing dress pants and a cute polka-dot blouse, her auburn hair pulled up in a bun, and black square-rimmed glasses on her button nose. She reminds me a little of Harriet, and I immediately like her.
“Alex?”
I stand, extending a hand. “Yes. Hello.”
“Natalie. Thanks for coming in.” She takes my hand with a smile. “I’m excited to discuss your novel with you. Let’s go upstairs.” She heads for the elevators and I follow her inside. “How long have you been querying it?”
“Er—” I smooth my hands down my dress, trying not to sound as clueless as I feel. “Not long?”
“Well, I think you have something great here.”
A thrill runs through me but I give her a casual smile, wanting to play it cool. The elevator pings as we arrive at our floor and I follow Natalie to a glass-walled office. By the time I’m sitting opposite her desk, I’m effervescent with excitement. I can’t believe I’m here, meeting with a literary agent who likes my novel.
“So, I loved it.” Natalie picks up a pen and twirls it. “I love the story and the characters, especially this Matthew character. Boy is he dreamy!” She giggles, pretending to fan herself.
I quickly force a laugh, even though my throat tightens at the mention of Matthew—or as I know him, Michael.
“He sounds sexy, but also sweet. It’s good to get a balance of the two.”
There’s a familiar sting behind my eyes and I nod, looking down at my hands.Yes, it is. And it’s not easy to find.
“I love how we see Matthew and Annie grow and fall in love,” Natalie says, grinning. “And the ending is gorgeous.”
“I guess,” I mutter, swallowing against the sudden scratchiness in my voice. “But it doesn’t always work out like that, does it?”
“Well…” She chews the end of her pen in thought. “Not always, no. But happy endings can—and do—happen. There’s nothing wrong with expecting it to work out.”
There’s a pang my heart. “Yes, there is,” I mumble, and Natalie raises an eyebrow.
Shit.
“Uh, what I mean is…” I stammer, scrambling for something reasonable to say without bursting into tears. God, why am I on the verge of tears now? “You know, sometimes people grow apart, or they have differing values, or it’s just not meant to be.”
“Of course. But there are also plenty of instances where peopledowork things out, where love conquers all. Surely, if you’re writing a romance novel, you must believe that?”
I let out a deep, sad sigh. As Natalie gazes at me, I feel my defenses begin to crumble down, until I’m forced to confront that part of me I’ve been running from. Because the truth is Iwantto believe that—I certainly used to. I’ve dreamed for years of having my own happily ever after. It’s just that lately, I’ve begun to worry that won’t be part of my story.
“Well, I’ve always believed that,” Natalie says wistfully. “When love is true, there’s nothing it can’t overcome. That’s why I love these books. They teach us that it’s okay to believe in love, to want the fairy-tale ending. Because if you don’t believe in it, you’ll never get it.”
