Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 144696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 723(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 482(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 723(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 482(@300wpm)
“That’s the lovely thing about advances, Sophie. They pay you before the book is finished.” India’s throaty chuckle betrayed her legendary cigarette habit. “Here is what I suggest. Speak to Elwood. Finish the book. Then come to me. If I can’t find a place for this book myself, then I’ll crawl on my hands and knees over broken glass to find you an agent for it.”
“Wow.” I couldn’t believe she was so determined about this. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but... You’re really helping me here. After the way I left Porteras... why?”
I heard her slow exhale and imagined the smoke curling from ruby-red lips. “You have talent. And I’ve learned, from long, hard years in this business, that if you nurture talent and it grows into something successful, that success reflects back on you.”
“That’s a good point. It does kinda work like that.” I don’t know why I felt slightly disappointed in that answer. I suppose because I wanted to hear that I reminded her of herself at my age, or that she had some emotional connection to me that made her want to mentor me.
Then I snapped the fuck out of it. If India Vaughn wanted to help me become successful, I didn’t care if it was because she thought I might be a Russian sleeper agent or something. I could let her open the doors for selfish reasons, as long as I could stick my foot in them.
When I hung up with India, I was full of raw, unrestrained writing power. I wanted to sit down and finish the book tonight— or at least, finish it to the part Neil and I were living now. But Neil was waiting for me, and I knew he wasn’t going to have many more good days once the transplant process started.
So, just for the night, I shut down my laptop and headed off to join him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“I think this is just about perfect.”
I looked around the formal reception room in the low, golden lighting from the dimmed sconces on the walls and the dozens of gorgeous ivory and gold candle arrangements placed on end tables and the mantel. Emma and I had really out done ourselves on this get together, and I totally agreed with her. It was just about perfect. The catering service had set up a bar in the dining room, and instead of dinner, we’d decided on hot hors d’oeuvres
“Okay, music wise, what do you think the vibe is? This is a laid-back thing, so I don’t want anything too stuffy or formal. So no piano.” Emma tapped her lips. “I’ll work it out.”
“You go do that.” I smiled, but it was somewhat frozen on my face. I was nervous, as I had been on Christmas meeting his family. This was almost worse. Friends are the family you choose for yourself; I didn’t want Neil’s chosen family to dislike me.
I wondered if Rudy disliked me, after what had gone down at Porteras. He was coming to stay in London while Neil had his transplant.
I looked down at my lovely black skater dress and the wide band of sparkling silver sequins along the skirt’s hem. I wore some cheap, no-name sequined heels with it. Rudy was going to hate those.
Checking my sleek ponytail in the gilt-framed oval mirror on the wall, I was giving myself a little mental toughness speech when Neil walked into the room. His eyes met mine in the reflection, and total joy suffused through me.
We saw each other every day, but when he walked into a room, my heart lit up.
“This is incredible,” he said, eyes boggling as he looked around. “You and Emma did all this?”
“Well, Emma and I used your money to pay for all of this, and then we pointed to where the people we were paying should put things, but... yeah. We did it.” I turned and met him in the middle of the room.
Tonight, he wore tan herringbone tweed trousers and a fitted white button down beneath a thin black v-neck pullover. And black bedroom slippers.
“Nice,” I giggled, pointing to his feet.
“I get comfortable footwear, because I’m an invalid,” he explained with a smile. “Sophie, this is lovely. Really. The night is already a success.”
“Wait until you see the food.” I reached up and looped my arms around his neck. His hair had started to grow back just a little, just enough that I could see the shadow of it close up. I knew it itched like hell, but he wouldn’t shave it off until he started chemotherapy again.
Which was tomorrow, so I warned, “Just don’t over eat. Otherwise it’ll be the pukelympics tomorrow night.”
“I can’t promise anything.” He leaned down and kissed me.
The bell rang.
“You’re the guest of honor, you don’t have to open the door,” I told him. “Go help Emma pick music.”