My boots left a wet trail on the polished oak floors. Everything glowed a rich, earthy brown. Warm light spilled from a rustic chandelier swinging overhead. A deep red carpet looked ready to swallow me whole, promising a very cozy death. An ornate staircase curled up to the second floor. Past a reading nook with cognac leather chairs, the slanted roof framed floor-to-ceiling windows. Outside, a sudden drop revealed rolling hills blanketed in snow-dusted pines.
I felt catapulted into a goddamn Bob Ross painting. Elaine waved towards the room. “May and Jeremy, this is Nora.”
I gave an awkward little wave—very Bella Swan.
Jeremy stood from one of the leather chairs and offered his hand. Oddly formal, considering he looked a few years younger than me. Or maybe it was the checkered suit and bowtie combo, which made his age completely unguessable.
“Nice to meet you, Nora. Isn’t this just the most exciting thing?”
His accent was British—somewhere near Oxford, I’d guess. The dropped vowels, the soft p’s… charming.
His smile was infectious. Mine answered before I could stop it. Which was wild, because usually only Otis got that kind of response from me.
A woman in her late forties stood next. Short purple hair, a single dangly earring, and a hand-knit scarf that looked like it could warm a whole pack of middle-aged women. Friendly crow’s feet crinkled at the corners of her eyes as she gave me a nod.
“Exciting, yes,” I said, trying to sound like a normal person.
“Oh good, you found it,” came a voice behind me.
I turned.
“Now we’re just waiting for one more.”
The women had red curls which stuck out in every direction, a mustard-yellow sweater, and gray slacks. Round glasses framed her face.
She introduced herself as Charlene—the editor I’d spoken to on the phone. “I’ll be your coach and guide over the next few days.” She glanced at her phone. “Feel free to settle in upstairs. Rooms are first come, first serve.”
I started toward the grand-but-small staircase when my eyes caught a stack of folders on a coffee table.
My pulse kicked when I glimpsed my name was on one of the spines.
The revision notes.
“This will be so much fun.”
Ithinkit was Jeremy who said that, but I was too busy spiraling over what those notes might say.
Could I really do everything I needed to in just five days?
I reached for the folder. “I’ll just head upstairs then?—”
“Not so fast,” Charlene said, laying a hand on my arm. “We’ll start with a little introductory round. Maybe some dinner too?” She glanced around the room.
“That’d be lovely,” Jeremy said, smiling.
“I could eat,” May nodded, tucking away her knitting needles and yarn.
“The kitchen is fully stocked,” Charlene went on. “We’ll get to know each other tonight and start our first group session tomorrow.”
“Group session?” I winced. “Those aren’t mandatory, right?”
“No, they’re voluntary,” Charlene said, leaning against the banister. “But writing can be lonely.”
“I know. That’s why I like it,” I muttered, trying to land a joke. But Charlene wasn’t as fun as I expected.
“I think one social session won’t kill you,” she replied, in a tone that made it clear I didn’t have much of a choice.
So.
