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“Thanks for coming,” I say sincerely. “I liked finding out about your childhood, sweetheart.”
She blushes.
“I don’t think I’ve ever talked that much about myself, Mr. Cameron. I was a total motormouth.”
Leaning forwards, I brush her temple with my lips.
“And I liked hearing it,” I breathe into her ear. “It was one hundred percent interesting.”
She blushes.
“Next time, you’ll have to tell me about yourself,” she invites. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
And suddenly, the world comes crashing down. Because I’m an orphan with a dark past. I don’t deserve someone as wholesome and good as Elisa. She’s light, sweetness, and bliss rolled into one, whereas I’m a mass of selfishness and destruction. I don’t deserve someone as good as her.
But I keep my thoughts under wraps.
“Will do,” is my light comment. “See you next time.”
And with a smile and wave, the curvy brunette disappears, leaving me alone in my office. Suddenly, it seems very empty without her. But this is the way it has to be. Because I have a dark heart … and an innocent like the beautiful Ms. Morgan doesn’t deserve to be corrupted.
8
Elisa
After the meeting with Robert and Pattie, I had dinner with Darla so we could go over the edits together. My agent read over the notes they gave me and agreed with some of their comments, but disagreed with others. She doesn’t think that the heroine needs a new best friend either, but she told me to think about it. Robert Cameron is a respected editor in the industry, and maybe after two weeks, I’ll see things from a different light.
Unfortunately, my two weeks are up today, but I’m no further along in my thinking. Because there’s a saying that writers like to use about editing manuscripts: Don’t kill the darling. It just means that no one wants to change the parts of their manuscript they’re attached to. I do like some of the things Robert and Pattie suggested, but I’ll be damned if I write in a new best friend just so that my heroine has someone to prop her up.
After all, my heroine is the sassy, independent type. She’s pulled herself up by her bootstraps, and that’s what’s going to make female readers identify with her. If she came across as a shrinking violet, she’d feel out of step in the modern age. Hell, I wouldn’t want to read the book if the main character had no backbone.
“Damnit,” I yell, tossing my laptop onto the couch. I’m not getting anywhere with this. I pick my phone up from the coffee table and scroll through my social media accounts. We officially announced the book deal last week, and I’ve gotten a lot of new followers since then. I try to respond to as many as I can, but it’s impossible to keep up with all of it. I type out a blanket “Thank you” to all my new followers and exit the app.
My fingers move on their own, opening up my contacts. Robert said I could call him if I had any trouble with the edits. I’m in borderline crisis mode right now, and I’m supposed to email Darla with my edits today, so she can give me notes before I turn in the new draft to Cameron Publishing. What the hell. I’m drowning here, and need a life raft.
I hit the call button. It rings a few times, and I’m not sure he’s not going to answer. But then there’s a tell-tale click.
“Robert Cameron,” that deep voice sounds.
“Hi, Robert. It’s Elisa.”
“Oh. Hey, Elisa,” he says. He sounds surprised but pleased. We haven’t spoken since the day we had lunch together in his office. “How are you?”
“I’m good. I’m just… I’m working on my rewrite and I’m having some trouble.”
He laughs gently.
“Can’t kill your darlings?”
“It’s hard!” I exclaim. “It’s like putting a knife through your own children!”
He laughs with understanding.
“Do you want to come over and talk about it? I have some time this afternoon.”
I get up, stretching a bit. “Um. Oh well, I don’t want to take up your time. I know you’re busy.”
He chuckles.
“Elisa, it’s okay. We want your book to be the best it can be. I’d be happy to help out if you’re struggling. Bring the section you want to work on and meet me in my office in an hour?”
Oh my god, that’s so soon! But immediately, I jump at the opportunity.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll see you then.”
“Perfect,” he says smoothly. “See you in a few.”
When we hang up, I head to my closet and search through my clothes like a madman, my heart pumping furiously. I consider putting on one of my fancier dresses reserved for city meetings, but that would seem like I’m trying too hard. Instead, I take my favorite blue blouse and slip it over my head. The sweetheart neckline makes my boobs look even bigger than they already are. I step into a black ruffled pencil skirt that hugs my wide hips. My breasts and hips are Robert’s favorite things to look at, so I want my outfit to draw attention to those features.
