phone.
“Well, you
would be too if you went to bed at four in the morning,” I mumbled, my face
half buried in the pillow.
“Why the hell
did you go to bed so late?” she asked in a way-too-cheerful voice.
“Because my
stomach was upset and I couldn’t sleep, so I got up and started to write—then I
couldn’t stop.”
“I know, that’s
why I’m calling. I got your outlines for Sammy’s Big Adventure . I’m not
sure of the title, but I love the idea. I’m looking at it right now, and Jesus ,
you sent it to me at three in the morning?” Her voice rose. “Do I need to make
sure you get enough sleep along with teaching you how to dress? What the hell
would you do without me?”
“Sleep in.”
“Ha ha. Anyway,
I showed Cheryl, and she loves it. She’s so excited, she wants to see the first
few chapters as soon as you finish. Don’t worry, no deadlines, she knows how you
feel about them.”
“Couldn’t this
wait until I was awake?”
“I’m sorry, I
didn’t notice what time you sent the email until just now. I’ll let you go and
get some sleep. Call me when you wake up.”
Without saying
goodbye, I clicked the end button and tossed the phone on the floor, burying my
face into the pillow.
I woke a few
hours later—starving. I got out of bed and went into the kitchen to make myself
some toast with peanut butter. Flopping on the couch, I munched on my toast, my
problems from the night before popping in my head. I was still upset with Nick
for the way he had snapped me, and I wasn’t sure what to do about it. He was
supposed to come over tonight after his shift at work around ten o’clock, but
now I was thinking I might call to cancel. I just wasn’t in the mood for
company.
The rest of the
day I buried myself in my work. I called Debbie and discussed my plans for the
book, and then dove back in with some of the things we had discussed, including
changing some of the names of the animals she didn’t like.
I was deep into
a scene when I heard a knock at the door. “Come in, it’s open,” I yelled
absently, expecting Sylvia. She sometimes popped in for a cup of coffee, often
carrying a coffee cake or banana bread.
“Hi, am I
interrupting you?” The voice was too deep to be Sylvia’s.
I looked up to
see Nick standing in front of the open door with a brown paper bag in one hand
and a large bouquet of pink roses in the other. “What…Nick, what are you doing
here?” I glanced up at the clock. “It’s only five thirty. I thought you were
off at nine.”
He shut the
door and then made his way over to stand in front of me, his eyes filled with
remorse. “I got off early. I was such a jerk to you last night, I wanted to
come over and make it up to you. I’m so sorry I snapped at you. Can you forgive
me?” he asked, handing me the flowers. I hesitated, remembering how he made me
feel last night. “Come on, I brought you Chinese food. Chow mein and chicken
balls, your favorite.” Setting the bag down on the table, and the flowers on
the couch beside me, he got down on his knees and leaned his forehead against
mine. He smelled of his usual musk. “Please give me a second chance, I’m such a
jerk, and I say stupid things without thinking, you’ll forgive me, right?” He
kissed my forehead, my cheeks, my nose, and eventually my lips. “Do you forgive
me?” he asked again between kisses.
I nodded my
head, and let him take the kiss further—I couldn’t help it, he was so sweet,
kneeling on the floor with the flowers and my favorite food—how could I resist
him?
He stood up,
took my hand in his, and yanked me off the sofa, pulling me into the bedroom.
“Do want to eat, or make up?” he asked, standing in the doorway.
“Well, we
didn’t really have a fight.”
He kissed my
lips again and rubbed my hand with his thumb. My skin tingled in response. “You
were mad. I knew it when you wouldn’t talk to me all the way home.”
“Fine, I was
mad,” I said, leaning up onto my
“Well, you
would be too if you went to bed at four in the morning,” I mumbled, my face
half buried in the pillow.
“Why the hell
did you go to bed so late?” she asked in a way-too-cheerful voice.
“Because my
stomach was upset and I couldn’t sleep, so I got up and started to write—then I
couldn’t stop.”
“I know, that’s
why I’m calling. I got your outlines for Sammy’s Big Adventure . I’m not
sure of the title, but I love the idea. I’m looking at it right now, and Jesus ,
you sent it to me at three in the morning?” Her voice rose. “Do I need to make
sure you get enough sleep along with teaching you how to dress? What the hell
would you do without me?”
“Sleep in.”
“Ha ha. Anyway,
I showed Cheryl, and she loves it. She’s so excited, she wants to see the first
few chapters as soon as you finish. Don’t worry, no deadlines, she knows how you
feel about them.”
“Couldn’t this
wait until I was awake?”
“I’m sorry, I
didn’t notice what time you sent the email until just now. I’ll let you go and
get some sleep. Call me when you wake up.”
Without saying
goodbye, I clicked the end button and tossed the phone on the floor, burying my
face into the pillow.
I woke a few
hours later—starving. I got out of bed and went into the kitchen to make myself
some toast with peanut butter. Flopping on the couch, I munched on my toast, my
problems from the night before popping in my head. I was still upset with Nick
for the way he had snapped me, and I wasn’t sure what to do about it. He was
supposed to come over tonight after his shift at work around ten o’clock, but
now I was thinking I might call to cancel. I just wasn’t in the mood for
company.
The rest of the
day I buried myself in my work. I called Debbie and discussed my plans for the
book, and then dove back in with some of the things we had discussed, including
changing some of the names of the animals she didn’t like.
I was deep into
a scene when I heard a knock at the door. “Come in, it’s open,” I yelled
absently, expecting Sylvia. She sometimes popped in for a cup of coffee, often
carrying a coffee cake or banana bread.
“Hi, am I
interrupting you?” The voice was too deep to be Sylvia’s.
I looked up to
see Nick standing in front of the open door with a brown paper bag in one hand
and a large bouquet of pink roses in the other. “What…Nick, what are you doing
here?” I glanced up at the clock. “It’s only five thirty. I thought you were
off at nine.”
He shut the
door and then made his way over to stand in front of me, his eyes filled with
remorse. “I got off early. I was such a jerk to you last night, I wanted to
come over and make it up to you. I’m so sorry I snapped at you. Can you forgive
me?” he asked, handing me the flowers. I hesitated, remembering how he made me
feel last night. “Come on, I brought you Chinese food. Chow mein and chicken
balls, your favorite.” Setting the bag down on the table, and the flowers on
the couch beside me, he got down on his knees and leaned his forehead against
mine. He smelled of his usual musk. “Please give me a second chance, I’m such a
jerk, and I say stupid things without thinking, you’ll forgive me, right?” He
kissed my forehead, my cheeks, my nose, and eventually my lips. “Do you forgive
me?” he asked again between kisses.
I nodded my
head, and let him take the kiss further—I couldn’t help it, he was so sweet,
kneeling on the floor with the flowers and my favorite food—how could I resist
him?
He stood up,
took my hand in his, and yanked me off the sofa, pulling me into the bedroom.
“Do want to eat, or make up?” he asked, standing in the doorway.
“Well, we
didn’t really have a fight.”
He kissed my
lips again and rubbed my hand with his thumb. My skin tingled in response. “You
were mad. I knew it when you wouldn’t talk to me all the way home.”
“Fine, I was
mad,” I said, leaning up onto my
Similar Books
