Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97073 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97073 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
I swallow and nod. “Yes.”
She smiles, slightly suspicious, I’m sure, but she doesn’t press me on it. “Right. Well, let’s keep things like they are for a few weeks. I will need to clear everything with HR, of course. Why don’t we aim to have you switched over by late spring, early summer? Will that work?”
“Yes,” I rush out, a bit unbelieving that it could be this simple. “That would be great.”
I stand and she comes around her desk to give me a side hug. “I really appreciate you tackling this project with Nathaniel. You should read the review he sent about you. It’s glowing.”
I smile, trying hard to conceal my blush. Nate already sent it to me. I’ve read it twice.
He and I haven’t talked on the phone since I left England, but we’ve been in contact by email as much as possible. With the time difference, the cottage’s lack of cell service, my work schedule, and his writing schedule, it just hasn’t worked to reach him by phone. I sent him my first email the day after I arrived back in the States, letting him know I got home safely and was settling into life again. I asked him how things were going and tried to keep the tone light even though it felt like I’d made the worst possible decision by coming back here and leaving him behind.
His email was in the same vein.
Summer,
I drove into town to give you a call only to realize it’s 2:00 a.m. your time and you must be dead asleep. Still, selfishly, I tried. Sorry if I woke you.
I’m glad you’re home now, settling in. I’m sure everyone at the InkWell office is glad to have you back.
I’ve been working tirelessly since you left, so much so that my hands are on fire at the end of every day, but I can’t seem to take my foot off the gas. This book is ceaseless and has taken hold of me. I dream about the crew and wake up in a rush to write.
I wish it wasn’t the middle of the night there right now…I want to hear your voice. I’m not ready to go back home. The cottage is too quiet now. Even Cat seems sad without you here.
Hopefully we can talk soon.
I miss you.
Yours,
Nate
After that, we’ve stayed in constant contact. I send him rambling emails, recipes, memes, funny articles, book reviews, anything. Even so, not having easy access to him has thrown me off. It’s made me start to feel insecure about his feelings for me. There is a chance, of course, that everything between us was built off the initial rush of lust and chemistry and now that we’ve both stepped away from the whirlwind and separated ourselves by an entire ocean, those feelings will start to dissipate, little by little. The emails will trail off and the phone calls will never happen at all.
I’m glad at least that work has been busy. Joy has me on three different projects, each one at various stages in the pipeline. I have three weeks to read and offer first-round edits to an author debuting with InkWell later this fall. I’m fortunate that her book is good and vastly different from what I’ve been working on with Nate.
After my meeting with Joy, I stay late and work because there’s no real reason to cut out early. When I do finally turn off my monitor and start to bundle up in layers, it’s with a crummy attitude. I don’t want to freeze my butt off on the way home. I don’t want to have to decide what takeout I want for dinner. I want my stove to get fixed and I want—
I’m just outside the InkWell building when my phone rings in my hand. I’ve kept it near me at all times on the off chance Nate calls. The fact that his name is on my screen now is almost too hard to believe.
The stars have aligned.
I swipe my finger and answer.
“Hello?” I sound skeptical, like I’m scared this is a prank call or something.
I hear the smile in his voice when Nate replies, “I was hoping you’d answer.”
Oh my god.
His voice.
It sends my heart racing.
“Hi.” It’s all I can manage without sounding like a fool. I have to gather myself now, act normal.
“Hi.”
“I miss you,” he tells me straightaway. “I should get that out of the way now. I miss you and I can’t stop thinking about you and if you’ll let me, I’ll buy a ticket right now. Come back to Sedbergh.”
“Nate.” I half-groan half-laugh. “Are you done with the book?”
He sighs, realizing I’ve won the argument for now.
“I miss you too,” I say gently.
“Have you changed—” “Do you think—” We talk over each other.
Nate laughs. “Nothing has changed, Summer.”
“Not for me either,” I confirm quickly, almost sick with relief.