Later, I walk her back to her hotel. She presses her hand to my arm before going inside.
“Goodnight, Lance.”
“Goodnight, Sally.”
No kiss. No sex. No temptation.
Just… company. Safe, simple company, that we both enjoyed. Neither of us wanting more than some time and a normal conversation. And for the first time since I left Aviemore, I don’t feel completely alone.
Chapter twenty-three
Katie
The glass skyscraper rises in front of us—it looks like it touches the clouds. The building oozes style, class, and ultimately money.
“Your publisher’s office is here?” Amy squeaks.
“Uh huh,” I respond, stunned. Having only spoken to Celia, my agent, online, I didn’t know what to expect. We reach the bottom of the steps leading to the sliding front doors. A huge chrome sign above statesMiller Publishing.A tremor of reality skitters down my spine. This isn’t just a publisher; it’sthepublisher.
Amy turns me to face her and cuddles me tight. “Go kick ass, girl. I love you.”
Tears spring to my eyes unexpectedly, blurring the chrome sign till it looks liquid, then I turn and walk up the steps toward my future.
My heels click on the slickly polished black tiles, each one louder than my heartbeat, before I enter the lift, which takes me to the reception area on the third floor. The decoration is minimalist with only white walls, chrome furniture, and one huge abstract painting hanging on the wall behind the desk. The woman behind it is smartly dressed, her dark hair tied into a tight bun. Shrewd eyes rise to locking with mine.
“Welcome to Miller Publishing. How can I help?” she says.
The breath leaves my body in a panic; my words stick in my throat. “Um,” I stutter. “Katie Clark, to see Celia Miller.”
“Take a seat, please, Miss Clark. Ms. Miller is just finishing up her previous meeting. She will be with you shortly,” she tells me before returning her attention to her screen.
My legs wobble toward the black leather chairs set around a glass table. Picking the seat facing the door I expect Celia Miller to appear through, I collapse in the chair.
“One, two, three....” I breathe in and out, trying to settle my nerves.
“Miss Clark?” The sharp voice from behind startles me.
I turn to see a tall brunette woman. She’s classically dressed in a chic black business suit with a white shirt starched within an inch of its life. Her features are soft, but her eyes tell me this is a strong, confident individual.
I smile at her shyly.
“Katie Clark. I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you in person. Conducting all our business over the phone is terribly frustrating.” Her face displays a huge, beaming smile, and she sticks out a hand in greeting.
I grasp it firmly, not wanting to seem tense. Her handshake is warm but decisive, like she knows I’m worth the effort.
“This way, please.” Her office is decorated in the same way she’s dressed: smartly, professionally, and expensively. Huge windows overlook the city. She sits behind a giant black desk, ona white leather chair. Piles of paperwork fill the surface, but each one is arranged meticulously, not one sheet out of place. Not wanting to disturb anything, I sit gently, not moving, my hands locked in my lap so I don’t accidentally smudge something priceless.
“So, Katie. Can I call you Katie?” She smiles warmly, and I nod.
“How does it feel to be getting published? Your book will be on the shelves at every major bookshop,” she says.
“It’s like a dream,” I squeak, sounding like a ten-year-old girl, not a woman of fifty. “A dream come true,” I say after clearing my throat. “I’m not sure I’ll believe it until I have a copy in my hands.”
“That’s understandable. I had a positive call with my contact yesterday. We’re looking at a release date of the twelfth of December. In less than six months, Katie, all going to plan, your book will be on sale.”
A goofy smile splits my face. Pride blooms. I’m going to be a published author. Someone chose to support my work.
“Do you have any questions?” Celia asks. “Anything you’re unsure of?”