Page 87 of Booked on You
I tilt my head. “Your readers are going to love it.”
“I just hope you do,” she whispers.
“I’m living it, sweetheart. I don’t need to read it to know how fucking good it is.”
Laughter falls from her when she glances at the book.
“I have pictures from that event somewhere,” Scarlett says. “Maybe one day we can go through them and see if we can find your mom. Like,Where’s Waldostyle.”
“I’d like that,” I say truthfully.
Scarlett takes a bite of her breakfast sandwich. “Her book club was one of the reasons I felt so welcomed and happy here. I will always remember her enthusiasm and warmth. I will never forget her kindness.”
Hearing her speak of my mother heals a wound I’d forgotten was still open.
“It feels like she brought us together,” I say.
Scarlett holds my gaze, her eyes thoughtful. “I agree.”
A comfortable silence settles around us as we eat and exchange glances.
Scarlett has opened every closed door in my life, and I’m not afraid of what’s waiting behind them.
“What are your plans today?” I ask.
“What I do every day,write, write, write,” she tells me, groaning. “I love my job, but I’m so tired.”
I reach across the table and squeeze her hand. “You’re almost done, sweetheart. And when you writeThe End, you’re all mine.”
Scarlett chews on her bottom lip, and it drives me insane. “I love the sound of that.”
“How much do you have left?” I ask, finishing my sandwich.
“Forty thousand. Easy peasy.” She sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.
I give her a lazy grin. “You’ve got this.”
Scarlett reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “Yes, I do.”
“Oh, congrats on making your five thousand yesterday. Glad to know you have one O-coin to spend.”
“Yup, I’m gonna cash in three at the same time,” she says.
“Damn, girl. I can’t wait.” I lick my lips.
“What about you? What are your plans for the day?”
I grin. “Not sure yet. Might read another book by my new favorite author,” I say, glancing atUntil You.
“Oh, it’s a fun one, full of self-discovery on a road trip after a breakup.”
My brow lifts. “Based onyourexperiences?”
She smirks. “Everything I write is. That’s the allure. Being myself is my brand; sharing myself is my essence. Everyone knows it’s a little bit of non-fiction wrapped up in a fictional bow.”
“I’m so happy you’re here,” I confess.
“Me too.”
