Page 96 of A Bookish Story

I meet his eyes and wonder if he even remembers our conversation from last night. He’d been so vulnerable then, so open, but now he’s shut down.

“This book won’t write itself.”

“Look, you hired me as your assistant so why don’t you let me assist?” I stand behind him, hands on hips, ready to fight.

“That was before I hired you to be Elizabeth Brogan.” He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, groaning. “I must have told you about my sister last night, didn’t I?”

I nod. “And I’m glad you did.”

“I shouldn’t have told you that sad story. Don’t feel sorry for me.”

Well, isn’t that just like a man. Don’t feel sorry for me because then I’m weak.

Ryan was right when he said there was a little bit of Grayson in him and a little bit of the other guy.

I pull out the chair next to him, sit, and reach for the laptop, moving it in front of me. “I’m glad you told me. Now, why don’t you let me be your hands today. Tell me what you want to write and I’ll type it for you. I’m your dictation software. Just…don’t speak too fast.”

“That’s not how my process works.” He grabs the laptop, moving it back, flinching when he does.

“But I want to help you.”

“You have, and now you can write the sequel.”

“I can do both. You’re the one with the closest deadline. I can help you and write my book. Believe me, I’m a disciplined writer or I wouldn’t have been able to write all those Desdemona books. Let me.” With that I shove the laptop back to me and shut it, crossing my arms over it, and giving him a pout. “Please.”

He throws his head back. “Damn it!”

Ryan complains, and he argues, but a few minutes later with me giving him puppy-dog eyes the entire time, he begins. Haltingly at first, a few words at a time. But, may I say, they are good words. Every one.

“I’m a slow writer,” he says as if to apologize.

“That’s okay, I’m a slow typist. We’re perfect for each other.”

CHAPTER 31

By afternoon, we’ve made it through an entire chapter. We take breaks for lunch and Ryan is alert, pain no longer distracting him. I even have to slow him down a few times, reminding him I’m not literally dictation software.

There’s a clear-cut love story now, introduced early, even if I know it won’t take over the entire book. I’m sure it’s exactly what Kate wants. She doesn’t want a carbon copy of Soulmates, she just wants the same heart and soul and now she’ll get it.

“I love this new direction,” I say.

“Just took your advice. You’ve been a big help. Anyway, you can go. I’ll be fine.”

I grab my purse, ready to go but then I stop because there’s something he should know. Somehow not telling him feels equally wrong.

“I didn’t have a chance to tell you, but Chris…my ex…he’s back.”

He quirks a brow. “You didn’t think he’d stay in South America forever, did you?”

“No, but, the thing is, he wants me to give him another chance.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised.” If he feels anything at all, I don’t see the slightest hint.

I expected a bigger reaction from someone who’s supposed to be in love with me. There’s no hint that this affects him in the least. We might as well be talking about the weather.

I fiddle with my purse strap, like it needs adjusting. It does not.

“What do you think? Should I…give him another chance?”