Eventually, two editors come in – one man, one woman – both with that particular publishing energy where the excitement is uncontainable (but whether it’s genuine beyond a love for money is questionable).
‘Whitney,’ the woman says, smiling warmly. ‘So lovely to finally meet you in person. I’m Lucy.’
‘And I’m Phillip,’ the man adds, glancing briefly at Jake, then back at me, ‘and you brought the now-famous fiancé. The superhero.’
I can feel my cheeks turning red.
Jake steps in smoothly, extending a hand.
‘Jake. Pleasure to meet you sir. Ma’am.’
‘Ma’am!’ Lucy squeaks. ‘Where can I get me one of these?’
JJ beams like she’s watching her favourite TV show.
We sit, then someone comes in and takes our coffee order, and we make small talk about what it’s like to go viral. To be honest, I’ve been so busy with all this wedding stuff, I just turned my social notifications off and tried not to let it get in my head.
They start gently, asking about my writing, my background, my influences. I talk about books I love, about how I started writing as a teenager, about how romance is the one genre that makes me feel happy.
‘And now you’re living your own story,’ Lucy says.
‘The viral clip,’ Phillip adds. ‘The setting. The engagement. The timing. Everyone wants to know your love story.’
I cringe inwardly.
‘Whitney writes that perfect brand of authentic but dreamy romance,’ JJ tells them. ‘And with her own love life being exactly that, well, I get tingles when I’m reading it. I know that this is a person who knows what it’s like to find a real-life leading man. There’s something so exciting in that.’
‘And we agree,’ Lucy says. ‘That’s exactly what we want – and what we think readers will want. To read a love story written by the woman who bagged herself a heroic cowboy.’
I’m sure it’s going well but, I don’t know, I feel kind of sick, knowing it’s all fake, but Jake sits by my side, only speaking when he’s spoken to, letting me have my moment, but he does keep squeezing my hand, letting me know that it’s all okay.
‘We think there’s real potential here,’ Phillip says. ‘Not just for one book, but for a brand.’
I wonder if my heart is beating as loudly as it seems – inside my chest, it’s pounding.
‘You have a voice, Whitney,’ Lucy continues. ‘And right now, you have momentum. We’d love to explore this properly.’
Jake’s phone starts ringing.
‘Sorry, let me… Oh, I might have to take this, it’s my dad’s nursing home,’ he says as he realises who is calling.
‘Of course,’ Lucy says.
He steps out into the corridor.
I try to focus on the conversation, but I can’t take my eyes off Jake, on the other side of the glass wall, pacing as he talks on the phone. He looks tense, worried even.
When he comes back in I can tell something is wrong.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says again, voice lower. ‘I need to go. My dad – he’s not well. They said he’s distressed and asking for me.’
‘Of course,’ Lucy says immediately. ‘Family first.’
‘We can sort details with JJ, Whitney,’ Phillip adds. ‘Go with Jake.’
‘Oh. I?—’
JJ is already nodding.
