She tries again. “The kids won’t be home for hours.”
He looks up from the table, a shock of dark hair falling over his eye. “I know.”
“Oh.”
Now they’re both tossing documents into her litigation bag, the one that locks, as fast as they can.
He scoops her up and heads for the stairs.
Chapter Nineteen
Monday morning passes slowly as Sasha checks in returns, shelves books, and helps one of the second grade classes find nonfiction books about the District’s famed cherry blossom trees.
When Caleb walks into the library at the beginning of his planning period, Linda calls Sasha over so they can exclaim together over photos of baby Henry and ask the new father how his first day back at work is going.
After several minutes of chatting, Linda says, “We should let you get to your carrel. I’m sure your planning time is more precious than ever now.”
He leans over the counter conspiratorially and says, “Actually, I’ll be writing again.”
“Oh? Another thriller?” Linda asks, happy for him.
“Yes, I just signed the contract a week ago, but this one’s going even faster than The Payback.”
“How?” Sasha asks, less happy. “I mean, wow. With a newborn?”
“I know. I was starting to think I’d made a mistake, to be honest. I didn’t touch the manuscript all week. Then on Saturday, when we got to Charlottesville, everything fell into place. My grandparents couldn’t get enough of Henry, rocking him, walking with him, watching him stare at their cat.”
“Sounds about right,” Linda say.
“While they entertained him, he entertained them. Emmaline slept every chance she got, and I … wrote. I was in a flow state. The words poured out of me. It was as if I had a muse.”
“That’s incredible,” Sasha tells him. She even means it.
It’s great for him. Not so great for her and Connelly.
Then he says, “I read through what I’ve done so far last night and didn’t even think I needed a second draft. I sent off partial pages to Biz before I went to bed just to make sure I’m on the right track. But I feel really good about it.”
“I bet she’ll love it. I know I can’t wait to read it. What’s this one called?”
“The Takedown.”
“Set in Turkey, again?”
“No, this one is in the United States. Same protagonist, though. It’s asking the reader to suspend disbelief that one guy could get into two major incidents. I mean, what are the odds?”
“You’d be surprised,” Sasha tells him.
Linda makes a noise that’s probably a cough. “I think thriller readers expect it, dear.”
“I suppose.”
“Are you working from another detailed outline?” Sasha watches him closely as she asks the question.
The skin around his eyes tightens and his lips thin. “Even more detailed than the first one.”
“That’s probably why it’s going so quickly,” she observes.
He rakes his hand through his already-tousled hair and gathers his thoughts. She recognizes that glazed look in his eyes. He’s a man running on fumes.
