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When her eyes crossed from staring at the unmoving cursor, she sat back. She was having the worst case of writer’s block ever, and she didn’t know how to snap out of it. The pressure of producing something that would please fans without selling her soul in the process made her temples pound. The character was her, but it wasn’t. She should be able to separate the two, but they were intrinsically linked.
Her gaze strayed to her father’s massive desk on the lower level. God, she missed him. Colette was right. She got the best of him. She had kept her word and visited him frequently. It took years to build a relationship and learn to trust him, but it was one of the best things she had ever done. Repairing her relationship with her father healed wounds she didn’t even know she had and made a huge difference in her work. Last year, as his health declined, she moved in. Surprisingly, they had developed a routine she had come to love. In the mornings, they met in the library. He worked at his desk while she went to hers on the second level. He’d bark at her if he didn’t hear typing. Her father might not understand or approve of her work, but he saw the effect it had on others. In the end, he supported her, and that was all that mattered.
She visited the kitchen once more, this time for a bottle of water and a granola bar. She snagged her jacket and beanie and pulled both on before she walked outside. The chill invigorated her as she walked along the lake. The historic estate was a turn-of-the-century masterpiece set on a peninsula of three acres overlooking Tuxedo Lake. The house was built in the early 1900s and had been given modern updates while keeping the original design intact, which made it look like a castle. As a child, she imagined herself as the princess and wondered when her Prince Charming would save her. Ford wasn’t a bad choice, but he hadn’t asked her to marry him. In fact, he hadn’t even proposed. Her father told her she would marry him and that was that. She liked Ford well enough. She had grown up around him and considered him a friend. She had been pleased to find out he would be her husband. Arranged marriages weren’t out of the ordinary in her world, and she was eager to start another life. She had hoped she would fit in better with the Baldwins than her own family, but then Roth came along. He was the first person to express interest in her. He pursued her, and she fell like a ton of bricks for him. Foolish girl.
One-hundred-year-old trees towered above her. Leaves drifted around her as she trudged over the crunchy piles. She passed the two-bedroom guesthouse and continued along the empty, narrow, winding road. Every time she walked, she considered getting a dog, but she knew herself too well. She traveled whenever the urge took her, and it wouldn’t be fair to the dog if she was constantly taking off. Maximus had accompanied her on her last trip. His mobility hadn’t been as good, and she could see daily tasks were becoming a struggle. She was planning to cut back on travel and be at home more in case he needed her. The morning she found him face down in the kitchen still haunted her. She sucked in a breath and walked faster.
She had lived in Tuxedo Park for most of her life and loved watching the seasons change. The village had never lost its magic for her. The estate was valued at eight million, a paltry sum for her sisters or father. She would have tried to negotiate with her sisters to keep the estate, but there was no need. She now owned it.
When a truck passed, she waved and got a honk in return. She sipped water as she walked, trying to find inspiration in the smell of the leaves, the colors of fall, or the sound of the birds chirping in the trees. Nothing worked. How could it be that she had everything and nothing at the same time?
Maximus hadn’t left her a letter. He probably thought giving her an inheritance was enough, but she would have valued a personal goodbye more. Why hadn’t he?
Wasting time was a sin in her father’s book, and in this, they agreed. She was a fucking writer, and she just had to push through. Whatever came out would have to do.
She jogged back to the house and plopped in her chair. She put her hands on the keys and forced her fingers to move. Words appeared on the screen. She paused, erased, and replaced those words with others. When those words didn’t do the trick, she opened the thesaurus for inspiration and typed more. She stared at the screen, listed some ideas, threw her pencil, spun in her chair, and swore.
It was close to eight o’clock when she heard the front door slam. Only a handful of people had the gate code, so she looked toward the open library doors and waited. Thea appeared in a dressing gown with a coat over it.
She got to her feet. “What’s going on?”
“Where’s your phone?”
She looked around. “I have no idea. Why?”
“Colette and Ariana have been trying to reach you.”
“Is something wrong?”
“They said they need you in New York. Sunny’s sending a car for you.”
Her heartbeat sped up as she picked up on Thea’s worry. “Did she say anything else?”
“No, miss.”
By the time her ride arrived, she had torn the library apart. She had looked under every paper, taken off every couch cushion, and looked in every drawer but still came up short.
“What are you doing?” Thea asked.
“Looking for my phone.”
She gave up and walked into the kitchen for aspirin and a peppermint tea for the road. She opened the microwave to nuke her water and paused when she saw her phone on the glass plate. When had she put her phone in the microwave? It was completely dead, no surprise. She answered her phone for the first two weeks. There were calls from attorneys, accountants, and her sisters. There were also legal documents to sign and figures to discuss. With her sisters’ help, the process wasn’t as painful as it could have been. They took care of her apartment in Chelsea after her things were delivered to the estate. With her preoccupation with her book, it wasn’t surprising she’d lost track of her phone.
She didn’t bother to change out of her tracksuit. It was late, she was tired, and it sounded urgent. Maybe it was baby related. She ducked into the SUV and plugged in her phone to charge it.
After she’d returned to Tuxedo Park, she convinced Lyle that she didn’t need security on the estate. No one was admitted into the village without permission from a resident. With less than one thousand people in the community, nothing went unnoticed. Lyle didn’t like it but had finally agreed. Sunny had withdrawn her men and told her to call her whenever she needed an escort, which worked better for everyone. She could write in peace without having guards patrol the grounds and call for security if she left Tuxedo Park.
Once her battery had enough juice, she turned it on and immediately called Ariana who didn’t answer. Neither did Colette. She frowned and messaged them in the group text.
Me:What’s going on?
While she waited for a response, she went on social media as Thalia Crane. She waded through the messages and notifications. Everyone was excited, sending well wishes, waiting… She reassured them that she was on it, all the while mentally gnashing her teeth. She had no idea what the damn book was about.
Ariana:Are you on your way?
Me:Yes. What’s going on?
Ariana:We’ll talk when you get here. We’re at Colette’s.
