She would have loved a cup of coffee, but she was jittery enough. She made tea instead, then sat down, opened the document, and read slowly through every paragraph she’d agonized over.
The sentences felt more solid than they had yesterday. Cece’s notes had strengthened the story and polished the rough edges. And the rawest bits, the parts she’d feared were too messy and vulnerable, now read like something real and human and brave.
Beau settled at her feet with a soft whuff, as if he was ready for her to get on with things and pay attention to him again.
“I know,” she murmured. “I’m sort of stalling, but I really don’t want to send this with any typos.”
Her finger hovered over the touchpad, ready to click into her email drafts and give the letter a read-through, too. But just as she drew in a bracing breath, her phone buzzed.
Brick was calling. Her heart thumped once, startled. She answered. “Hi.”
“Morning,” Brick said, voice warm and steady. “You good?”
“I am.”
“Have you sent it yet?”
Blaise glanced at the laptop. “Not yet. I’m reading through it one last time.”
A low, amused sound rumbled through the line. “That’s what? The sixth read-through?”
“I think it’s number five, but I get your point.”
He paused, letting the silence soften. “Blaise, listen. You told the truth. You wrote from the heart. It’s honest, and that’s what people connect with. You can’t do more than that.”
She pressed her hand to her forehead. “I just keep thinking, what if it’s not enough? What if they reject me? What if I shouldn’t have written this at all?”
“Then they’re fools,” he said sharply.
She smiled at his gruffness. At the way he was ready to jump to her defense.
“What happened doesn’t define you,” Brick went on. “You came back from it. That’s what people will see. What your son will see. I know you’re worried about him.”
For a quiet man, he was a very perceptive one. “You really think so?”
“I do.” He paused. “Now hit Send before you talk yourself out of it.”
Blaise let out a shaky laugh. “I will, I promise.”
“What’s holding you up?”
“Just want to read this email one last time.”
“I’ll wait.”
And he thoughtshewas stubborn. She looked at the email draft again. She attached the chapter to it. The chapter that had cost her so much pride, so much fear, and so much courage to write. She had five publishers to send it to. She pasted in the first email address, then looked over the subject line.SupermodelBlaise Monroe is back and she has a story to tell!
Her pulse hammered. “I’m ready.”
Brick spoke softly. “I’m here. Go on.”
She took a breath, then blew it out again, and hit Send.
A whoosh sounded, small and final.
“It’s done. Off goes the first one. Four more to go.”
Brick exhaled on the other end of the line, as if he’d been holding his breath, too. “Get those done, then come for coffee. It you want. Bring Beau, too.”
