Chapter 2

Eloise

I watched the woman, Cadence, go toward the back of the café and meet someone who was obviously a friend who had come with her to the interview. With her back to me, Cadence collapsed into her chair and then I watched the shock on her friend’s face as she told her about the interview.

Deciding that I shouldn’t be too much of a creep, I called my literary agent, Sylvia.

“How are the interviews going?” she asked. I was surprised she picked up, but I had been her client for nearly twenty years and she’d made a lot of money off me, so taking my calls was in her best interest. On top of that, she was also one of my oldest friends, and the one who had pushed for me to get a new assistant after not having one for years.

“I just had one recommend me an alien romance book,” I said.

Sylvia laughed. “Oh, I read those. They’re fun. It’s a concept that you don’t think will work, but the strength of the writing and the worldbuilding holds up.” I hadn’t expected her to say that.

“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to find someone that just…” I trailed off.

“Clicks,” Sylvia said. She often finished my thoughts for me. “Not like Mary.” My last assistant, Mary, had been with me for ten years. She’d started out as a fan and had gradually moved into an important role in my career and life. Cancer took her five years back, and I’d been unable to replace her since then.

“Mary was special,” I said, feeling that tightness in my chest when I thought about her.

“Yes, she was,” Sylvia said. “No one else is going to be Mary. Find someone that you feel comfortable with. Who is going to have your back. Maybe someone younger, since they’ll be helping with the social media part.”

Things had changed so much in the years since I started my career. I wasn’t used to this new era, where I had to be much more of a brand than a writer. I wasn’t sure if I liked it.

“I know,” I said. “The one who told me about the aliens has a good resume for that. Better than anyone else I’ve talked to.”

“Then give her a chance. I can tell you like her from your voice.”

Sylvia knew me too well. Sometimes it was irritating how much.

“She was…chaotic.”

“She was probably nervous. You’re an intimidating person, El,” she said. There were very few people who were allowed to call me that. Sylvia was one of them.

“At least she didn’t fawn or ask me for free books or try to email me a manuscript,” I said.

“See? Maybe she’s just what you need.”

I didn’t know about that, but there was something about Cadence. Chaos, yes, but a brightness about her that had made me lean closer and wonder what she was going to say next. She’d shocked the hell out of me with the alien book answer. Completely unexpected, but it had been honest. She wasn’t the kind of woman who had the skill to lie and there was something refreshing about that.

Sylvia and I talked about business for a few more moments and then she had to get to a meeting. I ended the call and looked over to see that Cadence and her friend were gone.

I pulled up my email and sent the NDA, along with the news that she had gotten the job.

My espresso was cold, so I went and ordered another, tossed it back, and went home.

* * *

I loved my house.Sometimes I never wanted to leave. It was a gorgeous brick Georgian that I’d bought over a decade ago out in the suburbs just outside the city. Close enough that I could be near everything, but far enough that I could sit in the backyard with an iced tea and hear the birds in the trees. Children rode their bicycles on the streets and there were lemonade stands and community barbecues in the summer.

I mostly kept to myself, but it was still nice to see other people enjoying themselves. The greatest thing about where I lived, though, was that my best friend since first grade, Camille, lived just a few houses away with her husband and three kids.

On days like today, I would get home from my afternoon errands just in time to head over to her house and join her for school pickup. Sometimes I’d bring my laptop and work while she waited for the kids, and other days we’d go early, get coffee, and then talk until the kids piled into the car.

Today was the second kind of day.

“So, I think I’m hiring an assistant,” I announced when I walked into the kitchen. Camille and I both had open door policies in our homes for each other. More than once I had found one or more of her kids sitting on my couch as if they actually did live at my place.

“You are?” Camille said, looking up from her laptop, blinking at me from behind her blue light glasses. She worked part time as a scopist, editing court transcripts for various court reporters and she was damn good at it. She was also my main beta reader, since her eyes were so sharp.

She took off her glasses and stood up from the dining table where she’d been working. Even though she worked from home, she always dressed as if she was going to her office, like me. Mary had always teased me about it.

She had seen my good, my bad, and my ugly. That wasn’t going to happen with someone new. I was going to have distance. Boundaries. Things were going to be professional.

“I think so?” I said, taking the chair next to her and reaching for one of the cookies on the plate in front of her.

“After all these years you’re finally doing it?” She crossed her arms and gave me a skeptical look, raising one perfect eyebrow. Camille was painfully gorgeous, with hair that shaded between warm blonde and light brown and her eyes were warm like melting chocolate.

I nibbled on the oatmeal chocolate chip cookie and savored it. Camille had been making these from her mother’s recipe ever since we were kids and I would never get tired of eating them.

“I think so,” I said, exhaling and wiping away some crumbs. “I had this interview today and it was…” For someone who was good at words, I was struggling to describe the interview with Cadence.

Camille folded her hands in front of her and waited for me to go on.

“She’s young and kind of a mess and she has this energy and…I don’t know. I already talked about it with Sylvia and she somehow convinced me to send her the NDA and tell her that I’m hiring her on for a trial period. What the hell am I even doing?” I put my head in my hands and groaned. I needed to stop making rash decisions before I talked to Camille.

“Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind and hired her, El,” she said. “So, what’s the problem?”

“She’s going to be a disaster!” I said.

“So then you can let her go after the trial period is over. Maybe she was just nervous. Clearly, there was something about her that made you send that email. This is the first time I’ve seen you this excited about anyone. Maybe your mind is telling you that this is exactly what you need.”

I scowled at her. “That’s exactly what Sylvia said.”

Camille smirked. “Good. She and I are on the same page. You need an assistant, and since I can’t do it, you’ve got to start somewhere. Give her a chance.”

Camille smiled at me, and I hated that she was right. I’d gotten so many chances in my career and I prided myself on reaching out a hand and hauling others up the ladder behind me.

“I hate it when you’re right,” I said, shaking my head. Camille beamed.

“No you don’t. You love it. If we leave now, we can stop and get drinks and finish them before the kids get out,” she said, her eyes sparkling as she slammed her laptop closed.

“Deal,” I said.

* * *

We did stopand get silly frozen coffee drinks that we sucked down while I gave Camille more details from the interview. She hadn’t read the alien books, but she immediately went and bought the first few of them and started reading them aloud to me in the car while I shook my head and begged her to stop.

“Hey babies,” Camille said and signed in ASL as Ariel, Kati, and Noah piled into the backseat with their bags and overlapping voices.

“Hi Auntie Elle,” Ariel and Kati said as Noah signed. He’d been born with profound hearing loss, so the entire family (and me) had learned ASL when he was a baby.

Growing up as an only child, I wouldn’t ever get the chance to be an aunt, but here I had the three best kids to call me that. Sometimes life worked out in unexpected ways.

I listened and watched as they tried to tell me about their days and asked their mom to stop for fast food and begged to do things with their friends and all manner of kid questions and queries. The noise was comforting, and I just sat back and let it wash around me.

“Staying for dinner?” Camille asked when we got back to the house.

I shook my head. “No, I have a bunch of things to get done. Tomorrow though, definitely,” I said, hugging her and all the kids. “Say hi to John for me.” No man was worthy of Camille, but John was close. They’d met in college and he’d been an absolute gem from their very first date.

I headed back to my big empty house that didn’t usually feel so big and empty, but lately it did. I’d lived alone for most of my adult life. I’d been engaged once, a long time ago, but we were waiting to live together until after a wedding that ended up not happening when he confessed that he’d felt pressure from his family and did not, in fact, want to be my husband.

Sure, I’d been on dates, but nothing for a while. My career was demanding, and some guys couldn’t handle who I was. They thought that I was a slut, or that I’d write them into my books, or they wanted to try and influence me, or they just didn’t get it or take it seriously. That was fine. Being alone was my default. It was my comfort zone. As someone who had taken a lot of risks with my writing, being able to have the rest of my life be safe was what I had needed.

Camille had been on me for years to get a pet, at least, but since I traveled so much, that didn’t seem fair, even though I could afford to have someone (or one of Camille’s children) come and tend to it while I was away.

My home was filled with all the things I loved, and there wasn’t one corner that I didn’t like, but my office was my favorite place. In addition to the movie posters and dozens of foreign copies and the shelves of my awards, my desk had been custom made to look like four of my bestselling books stacked on top of one another. I’d commissioned it years ago and I still got a little thrill when I walked into the room and saw the titles and my name painted in gold on the spines.

I made myself a quick chicken and pasta dinner with a salad and organized my evening. I had two episodes of my favorite show saved, and a new advanced copy of a book that I needed to read and give a blurb to already loaded on my ereader. Most days it was a huge relief to read a book written by someone else.

In between the first episode and starting the second, I put on a hair mask and emptied the dishwasher.

Camille sent me a video of the kids playing board games together and fighting and it made me laugh and smile.

After my second show episode, I put on some music and started on the advanced copy. It was still astonishing to me that when I heard about a new book that wasn’t published yet, more often than not, I could just ask Sylvia and almost immediately there would be an electronic copy in my inbox. It was one of the greatest perks of being a bestselling author. In addition to the money, of course.

My family had been constantly broke and on the verge of homelessness when I’d been growing up, so as soon as I turned eighteen, I was out on my own and making sure I never felt that way again. I’d worked my ass off doing any kinds of jobs I could find, put myself through college, and wrote instead of sleeping. There was no room for failure, no margin for error. I’d lived that way ever since.

I’d said before in interviews that books saved my life, and it was the truth.

When I started falling asleep on the couch with the book, I knew it was time to head to bed. I took my vitamins and turned out the lights and waited for sleep to take me away.

It didn’t come for me immediately. Most nights I didn’t have that much trouble falling asleep, thanks to my rigid routines. Tonight, though, my routines were failing me.

For some reason my mind drifted back to the interview. To Cadence. Obviously, I’d done a full background check on her, which included a perusal of her social media to look for any red flags. Most of the time I just read the reports and didn’t actually look anything up, but this time, for some reason, I’d searched for Cadence.

Her social pages were as expected, including the pictures of her with her friends, showing off an arm covered in floral tattoos. I didn’t have any of my own, but I wasn’t against them. They worked for her. It hadn’t escaped my notice that she’d worn a jacket to cover them for the interview. It also hadn’t escaped my notice that she was even prettier in person. I’d always been jealous of women with red hair, but I knew I could never pull it off. I dyed my hair a few shades darker than my natural color and had for many years. I had a signature look and I wasn’t ashamed of it.

Her hair had been pulled back and tamed, but I knew from her pictures that she usually wore it messier. With the flower tattoos and the hair and all those freckles, she looked like she escaped from the fae as a baby. She certainly had a magical quality about her.

Eventually I got to sleep, but it was a long time coming as I replayed the interview over and over.