Page 2 of Long Story Short

His silence made me think that maybe he did respect my decision to leave him. I thought his absence meant we could still work together in a professional capacity, and things would be fine. Now, I can’t help but wonder if he thought that if he left me alone, once I finished the book, I’d miss him and come running back.

I haven’t missed him once, and I think he’s realized that and is taking it out on me.

“You want me to rewrite the book in six weeks?” I sit up and straighten my spine in an attempt to pretend I’m feeling more confident than I am. I can’t help but hide the disbelief in my words. It takes me twelve weeks minimum to write a book, and even that is pushing it. This one took me six months from start to finish. I can’t write an entire book in six weeks. It just isn’t possible. I don’t even know if I can completely rework a manuscript in that time frame.

“Four weeks would be preferable,” Eli harshly mutters under his breath. “But six will do.”

I blink. For a few moments, all I do is stare at him, trying to remember why I was with him in the first place. I should’ve known better than to get involved with someone I worked with. Because I still owe three books to my publishing house, I’m stuck being around him for the foreseeable future. I knew it might be slightly awkward between us, but I never thought things would be like this. That he’d act so hostile toward me.

But I also didn’t expect him to hide our relationship from the rest of the world for two years either. It’s odd how you can spend that much time with someone and still feel like you don’t really know them at all.

“I know this is asking a lot of you,” Stevie interjects, stealing my attention. Some of the tension between my shoulder blades relaxes when I meet her comforting gaze. No matter how much Eli is annoying me, I know deep down that Stevie is in my corner. She’s believed in me from the very beginning, and if she agrees with Eli that the book needs some work, then that’s what I’ll do. She gives me a reassuring smile, further easing some of the tension in my body. “And I’m here to help you every step of the way during the next six weeks. We can go over plot, if you want to, and talk through things in depth to really home in on what the manuscript needs to get to the same intensity as your previous books.”

I nod as I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. I’m still trying to process everything they’re saying. “Okay,” I respond weakly. I wish my literary agent, Rachel, who is out of the country for business, were here to provide insight on everything, but she will be my first call once I leave the meeting. Right now, I don’t have much say in anything except that I’ll do my best to get them a better manuscript in six weeks.

It’s quiet around the table; no one seems to want to speak up at the moment. I welcome the silence as I try to gather my thoughts. Part of me wants to argue and push back, but the other part of me just wants out of this room. Once I’ve had time to process their words, I’ll send an email—or have my agent do it—and find out what exact changes need to be made. But right now, with the rapid beat of my pulse, and the way my head is starting to ache from the way I’ve been grinding my teeth, I think the best thing for me to do is to end the meeting.

“Please send whatever notes you have for the manuscript to me, and I’ll review them.” I keep my voice steady and my eyes trained on Stevie. I only need to keep myself composed a little longer before I’ll be out of this room and away from all of their inquisitive stares. Then I’ll finally be able to let my emotions bubble over. Until that moment, I’ll hold on to a week’s worth of pent-up stress and lack of sleep and keep my shit together for a little longer.

Stevie’s eyebrows pull together on her forehead as she slowly begins to nod. “I’ll make sure to get all of that over to you and give you everything you’ll need to feel good about revisiting the manuscript.”

I stand up and force a smile in Stevie’s direction. “Thank you. I’m going to head out, then.” I force my smile even wider in an attempt to make it seem like I’m doing better than I actually am.

“You don’t want to talk more? Plan it out?” Eli cuts in.

I refuse to look at him. I know he’s head of marketing, but it feels odd to even have him in this meeting to begin with. Manuscript notes have always been given to me by Stevie. She reports back on what everyone else is thinking. Any notes I ever got from Eli were done at home and on our personal time, never at work.

“I’ve got to get going,” I lie. I have no other plans for the day. I did it that way on purpose. I wanted to have the meeting and not think about work again until Monday morning, when I took Stevie’s notes and edited the manuscript. I wanted the rest of this Friday to be spent doing nothing.

It was supposed to be a bed-rotting day. There’s an endless number of podcasts and TV shows I’ve missed because of being on a deadline. I was going to catch up on all of that. I was going to take a nap.

A nap. I stifle a groan as I think about how much I was looking forward to a nap.

Now, my only plan is to get the hell out of this room so I can be alone and cry.

Eli clears his throat as if he’s about to say something else, but I don’t give him the chance.

I turn on my heels and hurriedly walk out of the conference room. I know people must be staring, but I don’t even care. I can’t care. My eyes sting with unshed tears as reality sinks in.

I’m going to have to do the impossible.

I’m going to have to write an entire book in six weeks’ time.

My shoulder hits somebody else’s as I run through the open elevator door.

“Is that Josephine Russell?” someone asks from nearby. It might be the person I just ran into. I don’t have it in me to look.

I hurriedly press the button to close the elevator door before anyone can join me. I hit it repeatedly, my heart hammering in my chest. I know I’m seconds away from the stress finally catching up to me, and the last thing I want is for anyone to bear witness to the breakdown.

I let out the smallest sigh of relief when the elevator chimes and the doors begin to close.

“Josie!” I hear Eli yell from across the office.

I stare at my feet, refusing to look at him. I need the doors to close. Now.

They shut just as I hear footsteps get closer. “Josie,” he yells again, this time my name coming out harsher.

If he says anything else, I don’t hear it. The doors shut completely just as I bring my hand to my mouth and let out a sob.