Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
But was she ready?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Later that evening, Erin was curled up in her favorite chair, reading, when her cell dinged and a text came in. When she saw Jay’s name, she clicked on the message immediately. She was eager to see how he’d respond to her hand-delivered note and had been wondering what was taking so long. She smiled as she saw he’d chosen a font that mimicked handwriting.
Dear Ms. Davenport,
I hope you’re enjoying your evening. Please check your email. My feelings on the scripts I sent you were similar. However, a brand-new writer has sent in a sample. I’d like to know what you think.
Regards,
Julius (Jay) Malone
Erin felt herself grinning. Why did these notes charm her so much? Even the fact that he’d taken the trouble to find a fun font on his phone made her smile. And if she was honest with herself, she wasn’t really concentrating on her book anyway, which was very unlike her. So she got up and opened her laptop. The script was titled A Love Story. Well, not exactly original, but okay. She opened the file.
INT. SUBURBAN HOME – NIGHT
We meet a young man and woman who could not be more opposites. A young, brash hustler from the wrong side of the tracks is invited to Thanksgiving dinner at his friend’s family home. His friend’s sister, a college student, enters wearing a prim and proper floral dress that covers her from neck to ankles. But the young man can’t take his eyes off her all night. She’s petite and doesn’t talk a lot, but he can tell she’s the one in the family who really listens. He wants to talk to her, but she’s so serious and so smart he’s tongue-tied around her, so he acts like the class clown, brash and boasting. And she’s such a good listener, she lets him.
The dialogue that followed was sharp and funny. She was surprised how much Jay remembered about their first meeting, because of course she’d recognized every detail of that scene. Sure, he’d made it funnier and cut down the number of characters, but the dialogue he gave them both rang true. It was the perfect opening for a friends-to-lovers romantic comedy.
Her favorite kind.
If When Harry Met Sally could end happily, who was to say that When Jay Met Erin couldn’t as well?
She devoured the rest of the pages greedily, losing herself in the scenes, amazed at how good Jay’s writing was. He’d managed to surprise her yet again. No wonder he’d taken a couple of days to respond. He’d been writing a screenplay.
For her.
At the bottom of the last page, he ended with a personal note:
The writer is struggling with one big thing: where to put the first kiss.
Reading those words sent such a rush of lust through Erin that she felt physically weak. She’d been dreaming of kissing Jay. . . and so much more.
She put down her laptop and sat back in the chair, trying to get a handle on her swirling emotions. She began to type on her phone, then deleted what she’d written, started again, then deleted that too. Finally, she stopped overthinking and wrote straight from the heart.
Dear Mr. Malone,
This story shows promise. I have an idea about where it could go next.
Before she could deliberate any more, she pushed Send. Then, jumping up from her chair, she glanced at her watch. It wasn’t late. Nine-thirty. That wasn’t late, was it? She didn’t even let herself think. She printed off a few pages of the script and then said to Buzzy, “Let’s do this.” Together, they left her apartment.
As always, Boswell was super happy when he realized they were heading to the beach, but he seemed to sense that something was different. So instead of straining against the lead, desperate to run ahead, he stayed by Erin’s side, keeping time with her footsteps.
Erin felt as though she were carrying her heart in her hands.
Soon she was standing on Jay’s doorstep. She froze for a moment, wondering if she really had the courage to follow through with her plan. But she was here now. On the doorstep of her dream house, where maybe—possibly—her dream man was waiting. She took a deep breath. And then she rang the bell.
When Jay opened the door, he had his reading glasses on and a book of Rumi poetry in one hand. A thrill ran through her. He couldn’t have looked hotter in that moment if he’d tried. Nelson couldn’t decide whether he was more excited to see Buzzy or Erin, so jumped madly between the two of them.
“Hi,” Jay said, looking both happy and a little bashful, trying to restrain Nelson from tripping over his own excitable wagging tail.
Erin smiled, suddenly shy. At least that broke the ice between them. Jay was obviously glad to see her, but he also looked so surprised he didn’t seem to know what to do.