“Going better than I thought they would,” Mark says. His tone is casual, but the half-smile on his lips suggests there’s more to it. “But I called to tell you your new post is already a hit. Less than thirty minutes in and it has hundreds of comments, everyone’s asking for more.”
I smile, because even though the numbers don’t mean that much to me, I know they’re what bring in advertisers. And, consequently, keep the blog profitable.
“Good,” I say, reaching for my passion fruit juice, keeping my eyes on the screen. “I’m guessing Renée already posted on Instagram announcing the new entry on the blog?”
“Of course. Our girl doesn’t play around. She scheduled it to go up at the exact same time you published. She also said thefirst sneak peek from your visit to Manuel Antonio National Park will go live in a couple of hours.”
We started working with Renée not long before I accepted the offer to write a column for USA Today, more than four years ago. The idea to hire someone to manage my social media and promote my work came from Mark. He knew it wasn’t my strength and that I never put much time into it. And fortunately for us, a colleague of his in San Francisco had a friend who was exceptionally good at this type of work and had just started her own business.
We couldn’t have chosen anyone better than Renée.
“When are you coming back again?” I ask Mark as I sprinkle more black pepper over my salad.
“Mid-August.”
“Wasn’t it supposed to be just a month?”
“Let’s just say I’ve been... kept well occupied lately. Enough to extend my stay.” He says it with a mischievous smile.
“And may I know the name of the him or her who’s keeping you so...well occupied?”
Mark bursts out laughing.
“It’s her, and I’ll tell you more when I get back. If there’s anything worth telling, of course.”
We both laugh, and I pull up a stool to eat dinner while we talk.
I lift the phone to my ear, and it rings twice before he picks up.
“How did you know I was just about to call you?” he asks in that smooth baritone that always feels like he’s speaking right beside me.
I sink back against the headboard.
“Sixth sense? Synchronized thoughts?” I tease, laughing lightly.
He chuckles. “It’s been a few days since we talked.”
“I’d already started missing your voice.”
We say it almost at the same time.
“Yeah... with my trip and your work, keeping in touch got a little harder,” I say.
“We can fix that,” Alexander replies. “Have lunch with me tomorrow?”
That pulls a laugh out of me. “Where? Berlin, Amsterdam, Pisa?”
“It could be any of those places if you wanted,” he says, in a tone that makes my pulse jump, “but the invitation is for here in New York.”
It takes me a few seconds to process his words.
“You’re... here?” I ask, sounding surprised.
“Yes. I got in last week. I meant to call and tell you.”
I struggle to make sense of the feeling that rushes through me, but I push it aside, forcing myself to stay on track.
“I can’t tomorrow, sorry. I’ve got a meeting with my editor.”
