Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“I gave you a desk right next to mine,” he says, sheepish, and my heart does an Olympic vault.
“For writing?” I ask, pretending to be unimpressed even as I’m already rearranging the pens in my head.
He shrugs, but there’s a grin in his eyes. “For anything. But mostly, yeah. For writing. I figure you’ll have your own book on the shelf by Christmas.”
I spin in my desk chair, loving how it hugs my hips. “I might have to lock the door to get any work done with you around.”
He leans against the doorway, folding those heavy arms. “That’s not a threat,” he says, “That’s a challenge.”
I open my mouth to reply, but the crunch of tires out front derails me because we’ve invited guests over to celebrate the renovation. The first car is Simone’s—pink hatchback with a cracked headlight and a sticker that says “GASLIGHT, GATEKEEP, GIRLBOSS.” She’s already out of the car before it stops rolling, arms loaded with a grocery bag and a wrapped bottle of Prosecco.
The next car is even more absurd: a battered station wagon piloted by Professor Malcolm Avery, his long-suffering wife in the passenger seat. He’s brought a bottle of wine, two coffee table books, and a yard gnome for the porch “to keep the muses at ease.” Behind them, Renee from BookEnds is pulling up in her rusty Mazda, waving a six-pack of some local microbrew and a stack of paperbacks for us to sign “for the local book club.”
Talon and I meet them at the door, and for a second I just stand there, holding hands with a man who once made my life hell and now makes it so much better. Simone gives a shriek, sets her groceries on the porch, and launches herself into my arms.
“Look at you!” my pretty friend crows, holding me at arm’s length and giving me a once-over. “You’re, like, dewy. Are you pregnant? Or just in post-traumatic bliss?”
“Zero percent pregnant,” I assure her, but Talon leans down to whisper in my ear.
“We could change that if you want.”
I elbow him, but it just makes him smile wider.
Professor Avery is more restrained, but his handshake is warm and sincere. He looks around the cabin, takes in the desks, the new art on the walls, and the mug of pens, and gives me a look that says, “This is right.”
“I brought something for you,” he adds, and hands me a thin, red envelope. Inside is a card with “Summa Cum Laude” printed in gold, and a note: “Couldn’t be prouder—MA.” I flush all over.
“You graduated with honors?” Talon asks, voice a mix of pride and genuine shock. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t want to jinx it,” I murmur, blushing, as Simone hoots.
“She was top of the damn class, Talon. In creative writing, no less.”
Malcolm beams like a dad on Christmas morning. “Her thesis was extraordinary. I suspect she’ll have tenure before any of us.”
The guests trickle in, filling the cabin with voices, laughter, and, yes, the smell of too many different kinds of cheese. Renee sets up a signing station on the kitchen table, and Talon signs gamely. I swear, his wrist must hurt after he scrawls his signature on the umpteenth copy, but I love this man, and appreciate him for his generosity.
The last guest to arrive is Erasmus Grant. The hermit’s as mysterious as ever, showing up on foot with a hand-carved side table, wrapped in a red flannel blanket. He sets it down by the fireplace with a satisfied grunt, shakes Talon’s hand, and, after a long pause, gives me a hug that smells like cedar and woodsmoke.
“It’s a side table,” he says, eyes twinkling. “Figure you could use it. There’s a fox carved on the surface underneath.”
I want to cry a little, but settle for grinning and running my hand over the table’s glossy surface. “Thank you, Erasmus,” I say. “It’s perfect.”
He nods, then slips outside with Malcolm, who’s already holding court on the porch. Talon disappears into the kitchen with Renee and Simone, leaving me alone for a second with the hum of voices and the way the light catches dust motes in the air.
I walk over to my desk, sit, and run my hand over the cool surface. It’s like a throne, and it’s mine.
Simone sidles up behind me, tucking her blonde hair behind one ear. “It’s really happening, isn’t it?” she whispers.
“What?” I ask, but I know what she means.
“This. All of it. The happy ending. I wasn’t sure I’d ever see the day, babe.”
I snort. “It’s not a happy ending. It’s just the next part of our story. Where we’ve worked out the major obstacles, and everything’s worth it.”
Sim gives me a squeeze, then smiles.
“I’m so happy for you, Kat. Love you, weirdo.”
“Right back at you.”
The party builds. There’s too much food, the wine flows, and at one point Talon gets roped into reading a passage from his next book aloud to the group. He picks a scene that’s all banter, but his voice is deep and smooth and the crowd eats it up. I hide in the corner, listening, feeling the pride bubble up in my chest.