Page 5 of The Story Between Us

“But now we have a problem.” Richard pulled out the leather chair at the head of the table and settled into it, fingers steepled. “Namely, Ian Rivers.”

Rivers.

No, oh no⁠—

“Ian Rivers?” Ryan asked.

“The Thornwood Chronicles.” Richard’s eyes were already back on his computer screen. “YA Fantasy author duo—Emma and Nate Rivers, writing as Ian. They had four bestsellers, and then…well, Nate has had some trouble, and now he’s two years past his deadline, and Starlight Publishing is talking about canceling the contract and getting their advance back. And on a one-million-dollar deal, our fifteen percent is a hundred and fifty thousand we can’t afford to lose. We lose this, and we’re going to have to cut back around here.”

Cut back. And it didn’t help that Richard glanced at the row of juniors standing in the back of the room. “That’s not the worst of it. We don’t get a manuscript soon, we’re facing a potential lawsuit and…well, we need to figure out a way to salvage this situation, fast.”

He sighed. “He used to be Bette’s client, but he never got reassigned.”

Bette Northrup, who’d left the firm two years ago and quietly slipped away to Alzheimer’s.

“So no one has talked to him in two years?” asked one of the senior agents—Linda Gallop, striking blonde, even in her mid-fifties.

“You want him?”

She held up her hands. “No, thank you. He’s…well, let’s just say Bette knew how to talk to him. He likes living his hermit life in Minnesota.”

Livvie glanced at Linda. That wasn’t fair. Nate wasn’t a hermit.

Well, okay, she didn’t know what he was, really. She hadn’t seen him in years. Although maybe, given her last memory of him…

And just like that, the fluorescent hum of the office faded. The smell of leather and cologne shifted to something else—pine needles and woodsmoke. Lake water. The particular sweetness of a Minnesota summer, thick and green and alive.

She was twenty years old again, sitting by a firepit at the edge of Maple Lake.

The summer she’d never forget, of course.

Emma had just finished an experimental treatment—had another month of waiting to see if it took—and Livvie had come to Maple Lake because, well, reasons, and…

And Nate had been there. Hurting, but trying. Sometimes she could still see the firelight catching the angles of his face, the smell of smoke in his hair, and something in his expression that made her breath catch⁠—

“We need someone to get in touch with him. See if he’s anywhere close to fulfilling that contract. Otherwise it could get ugly.”

Livvie looked at Richard. And she didn’t know why the words formed—or even how they formed—but suddenly, there they were, issuing from her mouth.

“I know him.”

Richard stilled, looked at her. (Along, of course, with everyone else.) Was she turning red? Or maybe it was just hot in here⁠—

“Excuse me?”

Her heart thundered so hard she could feel it in her teeth. She swallowed. “Nate—Ian Rivers. I know him. I can reach out.”

Richard leaned back in his chair. The leather creaked.

Silence.

“You know Ian Rivers.”

“Yes.”

“Personally.”

“Yes.” Her voice held steady. Barely. “I can text him. Today. See if he’ll talk to me.”