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“I’ve always wanted to be a writer,” I said quickly, the words sounding strange on my lips. For years, I thought them, but I never once spoke them aloud. Not until now.
“A writer?” Emily asked. “Really?”
She walked closer to me and sank into my lap. With her so close, I couldn’t help but get excited. My dick twitched and got hard quickly. Emily felt it and glanced down at my lap with a laugh.
“I can’t help it,” I said. “I blame you.”
“Stop it.” She laughed. “Talk to me about your writing. I’m curious.”
“What do you want to know?” I asked.
“How long have you been pursuing it?” she asked.
“I haven’t,” I said honestly. “Not until recently. I never thought I could. I’ve never even told anyone about it until now.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because I thought everyone would think it’s stupid,” I said with a shrug. “I was a lawyer, Emily. A really successful lawyer. My entire life was the law firm, and then I just left it. It wouldn’t make sense to anyone if I admitted I just wanted to write stories for a living.”
“So, you’ve never tried to write anything before?” Emily asked, her eyebrows raised. “Ever?”
“I mean, I wrote short stories and comic books when I was a kid but nothing major. I think I’m finally ready to start writing a book. A real one.”
“That’s amazing,” Emily said, smiling brightly. “I think that’s great!”
“You do?” I asked, surprised. “You don’t think it’s a stupid dream?”
“Of course not!” she said. “Why would it be?”
“Because I’m supposed to be this big-time lawyer,” I said with a sigh. “When Philip suggested I move, he wanted me to start my own firm. That was the whole point of moving.”
“Maybe not,” Emily said with a shrug. “Maybe the whole point of moving here was so you could finally follow your actual dream.”
“You think?” I asked.
“Well,” she said thoughtfully. “Let me ask you this: Do you miss being a lawyer? Do you ever wish you could go back to the lifestyle?”
“No,” I said. I didn’t even have to think about the answer. Ever since I’d left the firm, I’d been happier. I felt free, freer than I’d felt in years. “Never.”
“Then there’s your answer,” Emily said simply. “If you were meant to be a lawyer forever, then you would miss it. At least a little bit. But you don’t. That’s enough proof that you should find something else to do, something you love. Like writing.”
“I guess I’m just worried I’ll be bad at it,” I said softly. I hung my head. “It’s such a stretch from anything I’ve ever done before. The only thing I’ve written so far are just journal entries and little short stories. Nothing rea
l. What if I try to write a book, and I fail? What if I write it, but it’s awful?”
“I don’t think that will happen,” Emily said with confidence.
“How can you be so sure?” I asked.
She smiled and ran her fingers through my hair. It was gentle and comforting. I sighed and let myself enjoy the feeling of her being there with me.
“I just have a feeling,” she said softly. “I think you’ll be a great writer.”
“You’ve never read anything I’ve written,” I reminded her.
“That’s why it’s just a feeling.” She shrugged. “When you let me read something, then I’ll know for sure.”
“You’re really good at the cheerleader thing,” I said with a laugh. “If this nanny thing doesn’t work out, you could always go professional with it. You would look good in the little outfits too.”
