Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
I’m nosey and not afraid to ask impertinent questions. “I’m guessing you make more as an author than you did creating pretty flower arrangements, but can you make a good living that way?”
For the first time, I see Posey’s confidence shine through. I’d dare say she almost looks smug. “I made just over a hundred thousand dollars last year from my books and I’m on track to surpass that this year.”
I do some quick math and realize that’s over seventy-five thousand pounds, which is nothing to sneeze at. I nearly choke on my noodles. “You’re joking.”
She blushes but shakes her head. “No joke. It’s taken three years of hard work, but… yeah, it’s a good living.”
Now I’m supremely impressed. I had no idea there was that kind of money in writing. “That’s bloody brilliant.”
Posey blushes again, but this time it’s a pretty pink that serves to highlight her smooth, porcelain skin. She laughs lightly, and I notice it’s the first time she seems comfortable around me. “It’s not easy, but I love it. Writing gives me the freedom to create worlds and relationships where anything is possible.” Her eyes go soft and dreamy. “Romance is about love—about people overcoming obstacles to be together. The point is the connection between two people. There’s always a happy ending. That’s kind of the rule.” She pauses, ducks her head. “And now I’m blabbing.”
Admittedly, she’s kind of cute when she blabs. I can’t help but poke a little. “Happy endings, eh? You really believe in that stuff?”
Posey looks down at her sandwich, shrugging. “I don’t know. I write it, but… I’m not sure if it exists in real life.”
I pause, considering that. I never gave much thought to romance, but I find it fascinating that a romance author might not actually believe in it. “You’ve never experienced it yourself?”
“No,” she admits with a wry smile. “Not really.”
“Same here,” I say, rapping my knuckles against my chest. “I suppose it takes commitment that I just don’t have time for.”
“I can see how busy you are and you travel so much. I think it would be very hard to have a relationship.”
“I suppose if you want it bad enough, you make it work. There are a few blokes in FI who are married.” I pause a moment to shove another bite of noodles in my mouth and she takes a dainty bite of her sandwich. I swallow and sip from my water. “Where are you from? I haven’t traveled extensively in the States but you definitely have a pronounced accent.”
“North Carolina,” she says with a laugh. “A little town you’ve probably never heard of, and yes, we all talk like this.”
I find it charming. “You have any other family back there?”
“Sadly, no. An uncle and two cousins in Virginia, but that’s it.”
I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table. “All right, enough about you since I’m the one you’re writing about. What do you want to know about me?”
I get an eye roll and she doesn’t answer right away, feigning indifference. She’s here to learn and me opening up like that will be too good of an opportunity for her to pass up.
Finally, she asks, “What about your family?”
“Yeah, my family’s pretty tight-knit. Mum used to be a fashion designer—proper elegant and all that—but now she runs a few charities. Always keeping busy, you know? Dad’s a corporate lawyer. Serious bloke, a real workaholic. He’s proud of what I do, but he’s not too keen on the lifestyle that comes with it. Thinks I should focus more on the racing, less on the partying.” A smile tugs at my lips. “Then there’s my sister, Claire. She’s the smart one—human rights lawyer living in Geneva. Always been the golden child, really. She’s brilliant but still keeps tabs on me. Tries to keep me out of trouble from halfway across Europe.” I wink at Posey and she blushes again. “Doesn’t always work, though.”
“You get in a lot of trouble?” she asks.
“Oh, come on now… surely you researched me.”
Another blush and I think it might become a favorite pastime of mine… if I can get Posey to blush.
“You’re admittedly one of the bad boys of FI racing. Along with your teammate, Ronan.”
“Yeah,” I say wistfully. “We’ve had some good times getting in trouble.”
I notice Posey detaches a little, her expression flattening at the mention of Ronan. “You don’t like him,” I observe.
“I didn’t say that,” she exclaims with indignation.
“Didn’t have to,” I reply, pointing my fork at her and waving it in a circle. “It’s all over your face.”
She doesn’t admit or deny anything but makes an observation of her own. “I noticed that you seem close with Ronan and Carlos, but you compete against them. How does that work? Being friends with people you race against?”
That’s a bloody good question and one that would be pertinent to her writing about FI racing. It’s something many people wonder about.