Page 23 of The Write Midlife

"I've just gotten off the phone with Liam Carlisle himself," Carmen said. "He's proposing a ghostwriting opportunity. A series of romance novels under a new pen name. They're offering a very generous advance."

Melody's stomach dropped. Ghostwriting? For what? One of those run-of-the-mill romance series that Nate had alluded to? "I... I don't know, Carmen. That doesn't really sound like my thing."

"Just hear me out," Carmen pressed. "This could be huge for your career. It's steady work, good money, and it could open doors for your more... unconventional projects."

Melody chewed her lip, conflicted. The practical part of her knew this could be a financial game-changer. But the artist in her recoiled at the idea of churning out formulaic stories.

"What about my current manuscript?" she asked. "I'm making real progress with Nate's help."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Well, that's the thing. This deal... it might require putting your current project on hold."

"On hold?" Melody repeated, her voice rising. The couple at the next table glanced over, and she lowered her voice. "Carmen, you know how important this book is to me."

"I know, I know," Carmen said soothingly. "But think of it this way—this ghostwriting gig could give you the financial freedom to write whatever you want in the future."

Melody slumped back in her seat, her mind whirling. "I don't know, Carmen. It feels like selling out."

“Hey hey, it's not selling out. It’s more like…thinking ahead. Look, why don't you sleep on it? We can discuss the details more tomorrow."

Melody sighed, knowing she wasn't going to get any more writing done that day. "Fine. I'll think about it. But no promises."

After hanging up, she stared at her laptop screen, the cursor blinking mockingly. The characters she had poured her heart into seemed to stare back, asking if she was going to abandon them for a paycheck.

She closed the laptop with more force than necessary, earning another glance from the nearby couple. Gathering her things, she decided she needed a second opinion. Someone who understood both the creative and business sides of publishing.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she fired off a text to Nate:"Free for coffee? Need to pick your brain about something."

His reply came quickly:"Always free for coffee and brain-picking. Same place in 20?"

She texted back a thumbs-up emoji, then paused. Should she mention the ghostwriting offer? No, she decided. Better to discuss it in person, to gauge his reaction.

As she waited for Nate, the knot in her throat grew bigger. On one hand, she was looking forward to getting his perspective on this offer. On the other, she was worried about what he mightsay. What if he thought she should take it? What if he was disappointed in her for even considering it?

She shook her head, trying to clear these thoughts. Since when did she care so much about Nathaniel Carlisle's opinion? He was just her editor, she reminded herself. A very attractive, surprisingly insightful editor, but still just a professional contact.

The bell above the café door chimed, and she looked up to see Nate walking in, dressed in his usual suit, his dark hair perfectly tousled. He spotted her and grinned, and she felt a flutter in her stomach that had nothing to do with caffeine or career dilemmas.

"Fancy meeting you here," he said, sliding into the booth across from her. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this impromptu brain-picking session?"

Melody took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation ahead. "Well, Carlisle, it seems your father has some... interesting ideas about my career trajectory."

Nate's expression shifted, eyebrows leveling off. "Oh? Do tell."

As she launched into an explanation of Carmen's call and the ghostwriting offer, she studied Nate's reactions. His brow furrowed, his jaw tightened, and for a moment, she swore she saw a flash of something like anger in his eyes.

"So," she finished, "what do you think? Is this the kind of 'expanding my brand' I should be considering?"

Nate leaned back, running a hand through his hair. The gesture was so familiar now, she could almost predict when he was going to do it. "Melody, I... I had no idea my father was planning this. Until recently.”

“Really? The son of the CEO, out of the loop on a major deal?"

He had the grace to look sheepish. "Believe it or not, my father doesn't tell me everything. Especially when it comes to... unconventional strategies."

"Unconventional? Is that what we're calling it now?"

Nate leaned forward, his blue eyes intense. "Melody, listen to me. This offer... it's not what you think. There's more going on here than just expanding your brand."

A chill ran down her spine. "What do you mean?"