“It’ll get even easier from here,” he said. “You just have to take one small step forward every day.”
The waitress came to bring water. “Everything looks delicious,” Charlotte said, scanning the menu.
She chose the French onion soup and pistachio-topped salad. He chose the salmon and lentils with capers.
“Look, this place is also a cooking school.” She pointed at the back of the menu.
He leaned over to read the information. “I didn’t realize that.”
“They offer classes—the Art of Making Pasta, Date Night, Springtime in Paris. It’d be fun to sign up for one.”
“Maybe you should.”
She frowned. “I have to finish my book before I do anything else.”
He spread his napkin in his lap. “Your mother mentioned you were on deadline. How’s your second book coming along?”
“Great,” she lied.
He called her bluff with a skeptical look, but she nodded, trying to convince him.
“Your first book was good,” he said.
Her hand froze with her water halfway to her mouth. “You read it?”
“I did. I downloaded it shortly after Sloane told me you’d been published.”
“That’ssonice!” Her own husband hadn’t read it. Cliff had acted proud of her, but he wasn’t much of a reader.
“I knew how much it would mean to you to see your name on the cover,” Julian said.
“Too bad I didn’t use my maiden name on the cover,” she grumbled.
“You can change it for the next one.”
“Not really. Not without hurting sales. An author’s name is more than a name. It’s a brand. If I go back to Williams, the readers who liked my first book might not even realize I’ve written another one.”
“So you’ll stick with Jackson,” he said with a shrug. “No big deal. Anyway, I liked the story. You’re going to be fine.”
She took a drink before putting down her glass. “Do you typically read romance?” she asked with a grin.
He winked at her. “Only yours so far, but I might read more in the future.”
When the waitress came to pick up their menus, they agreed to get a bottle of white wine, and he ordered it. “So... are you going to continue living with your parents?” he asked.
“For the time being, I guess.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Because you’re hoping Clifford will take you back?”
“Yes.” She gave him a pitiful look before reversing her answer. “No.”
“It would be a mistake to go back to him, Char.”
“I know. But when you love someone...”
“He’d just dump you again, and maybe by then you’d have kids, which would make it that much harder.”
She knew he was right. “Did you see that picture of him online with Marija Vidmar?”
