Total pages in book: 183
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
“Thanks, Cat.”
“What are friends for?”
“Exactly,” I say. “So, send me your book.”
She pulls her Mac back in front of her and powers it up. “Here you go,” she sighs, punching a key on her computer. “Sent. Now I’m going to go pull out a few dresses you might like to try on. I can’t watch you read and I don’t want you to be nervous about what you can or can’t wear.” She disappears, and I flashback to the moment on the street when I’d walked away from Cole, and how much regret I’d felt. I’m where I belong and I’m going to stay the path. He’s in my path. I grab my phone from my purse and stare at Cole’s number, and finally I type: Can you call me sometime before the party?
He replies almost instantly: We’re about to meet with this potential client. I’ll call you after that before we run.
Can you text me first so I can go somewhere private?
Yes. Of course. Is this about your rules?
I consider that a moment and then reply with: I don’t know, Cole. I just want to talk to you.
I’ll call soon, he replies.
I’m not sure what I’m going to say to him besides giving him a heads up about what I told Cat. I’m not sure what I want him to say to me. No. That’s wrong. I want him to say something that makes going home with him tonight somehow as acceptable as he made me saying yes to that spanking. I want to be close to him again. I want to be naked with him again. I want to go home with Cole.
Chapter twenty-five
Lori
Istick my phone back in my purse, and do my best to set aside my one-time Prince Charming with mad bedroom and courtroom skills, and start reading Cat’s manuscript, and in a matter of a minute, I’m absorbed in a case that has long intrigued me; June Smith, a college-aged girl, was convicted of killing her dorm mate, and sentenced to death row. She died of cancer while in prison, and now, five years later, she’s innocent, and a now deceased janitor for the school was the killer.
I’m a good portion through the parts of the book I haven’t read when Cat shows back up. “Well?” she asks, sitting back down.
“It’s amazing,” I assure her. “This story is mind blowing in so many ways; tragic and compelling, and you embrace that in every way.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. Of course. You have hordes of fans for your column and books for a reason. Deep down, you know you nailed this and you’ll embrace that too, once you get past the deadline. That’s how you work. I’ve seen it with every big project you start.”
“Maybe,” she concedes. “What about comments? I always love your comments.”
“I did mark a few places that concern me. Some of the research I did right before I left isn’t connecting.”
“Tell me,” she says eagerly, because that’s Cat. She is all about telling the best story.
We start going through the sections I’ve marked, and hours pass in which I can’t help but anticipate Cole’s call that doesn’t come. He’s either still in his meeting or just can’t talk freely, and I’d rather wait than rush with him, anyway. Just as long as we can talk before I’m faced with tonight’s decision, I’ll be happy.
It’s near noon when we both shove down bagels and try to wrap up. “I still need an interview with the twin brother,” Cat says. “This is his sister, and his life was torn apart as well.”
“He told me he’d talk to you,” I say. “I pre-screened him weeks ago.”
She holds her hands up. “I know, but he changed his tune. He won’t talk to me. I’ve tried. I’ve given up.”
“I connected with him,” I say, grabbing a file on the counter to look up his number. “I’ll call him and see if I can recreate that and convince him to talk to you.”
“Thank you,” she says. “But FYI, my public persona seems to really turn him off and I get it. He’s been abused by the press.”
“He has,” I say. “And some pretty horrible things were said about his sister, and even assumed about him as her twin.”
“Exactly,” she says. “He had to leave his employer and do contract computer programming. It ruined his life and hers.”
“Which is why he needs to speak out,” I say, punching his number in my cell phone, and he answers quickly. “Hello.”
“Dillon, hi. This is Lori Havens. Do you remember me? We spoke once before.”
“I remember you. You’re working on that book with Cat Summer.”
“I just read the book,” I say, baiting his curiosity, infusing my voice with the excitement I genuinely feel for the project.
“And?”
“It would be perfect if it had your viewpoint,” I say. “How can Cat tell this story without showing how the failure of the justice system destroyed everyone in your circle? We need to make sure this doesn’t happen to other people.”