“All right. Fine.”
Amy whooped. “Limos and champagne and caviar, here we come!”
“We do not know that he would do any of that.”
Amy laughed and twirled around in a circle. “He’s a Warren, Natalie. He absolutely will!”
I couldn’t give Lewis the satisfaction of calling right away. Not that I was going to walk away from my computer when I was writing again. I stayed glued to it up until the last minute before I had to head out the door to see Gillian for dinner at Twig. And I raced back to my computer screen as soon as it was over.
Amy knew better than to complain to me about the whole thing. I told her to make plans with Enzo, and she happily disappeared to his apartment in the Village. I lost track of time from there. My fingers started to cramp, and my eyes got blurry. I knew that I had plans for tomorrow, but I also wasn’t going to stop once I was on this train.
Finally, at about three in the morning, I fell into bed and slept soundly.
I awoke the next day and stared down at my phone in confusion. I had about five hundred notifications on my phone.
Today was release day.
“Oh my god,” I gasped.
In my fever dream of writing yesterday, I’d actually been able to push out the fear of release day. And now, my book was out in the world. People were buying it. They were reading it. It was on shelves.
And I might vomit.
I was glad that I had lunch with Caroline at noon or else I might just stress-pace the room all afternoon. Forget the bliss of writing last night. I wasn’t going to be able to do that today. Not on release day.
I scrolled through the messages. Most of it was posts on my Crew social media account for Olivia. But also texts from family and the handful of friends who knew that I’d published. The pen name was to protect myself from the crew and the Upper East Side, not the people I cared about. And, between having the crew blocked on social media and living on my Olivia page, I didn’t think they’d have a way of finding out.
I spent the next half hour replying to texts and liking post after post from people sharing it. It was kind of overwhelming. Then I stopped on a text message that I’d gotten early this morning from Lewis.
Happy release day, gorgeous! Excited for everyone to finally read this book.
I stared down at it in surprise. He really was excited for me. And maybe…he did want to apologize for what had happened in some way. I’d thought he was bullshitting me yesterday. No real part of me had hoped that he was for real. This was Lewis Warren after all. I wasn’t dumb enough to think that there wasn’t a catch.
But damn, that conversation with Amy was too real. Maybe I hadn’t had words in the last year because I’d found that muse in the crew. In the group of five Upper East Siders who had hurt me. And it didn’t matter if I didn’t want them to be my muse. They were. Somehow, Lewis was.
And it might be worth it to see him if I could write again.
I sighed and sent back a response.
Thanks! It’s a bit surreal. I can’t believe the day is finally here.
I like to see people succeed who deserve it.
Then, a minute later…
A bit surprised that you responded, but I’m glad you did.
I think I surprised myself.
What changed your mind?
I don’t know. I feel like there’s probably a catch here with you.
No catch. Just me. I’m happy for you. You deserve this and more.
I grinned at the words on the screen. I couldn’t believe I was actually doing this. That I was actually going to invite him to the party with me. Fuck, I couldn’t even believe we were even chatting. Amicably.
Except…Lewis and I had always gotten along. We certainly had never had a problem talking or hanging out. Maybe it would be okay for a night when none of the other crew would be there.
I’ve reconsidered. Pick me up for the party tonight?
I’d like that. See you tonight.
I tossed my phone onto the bed and stretched my arms overhead. I couldn’t believe I’d actually done it. I was really going to use Lewis Warren as my writing muse. It was yet to be determined if this was the most brilliant decision of my life or if it was going to backfire spectacularly.
I headed into the shower and washed off my long night of writing. After a quick blowout, I hustled from my hotel room to the meeting with Caroline. We were meeting at Norma’s. I was both giddy with excitement, as it was my favorite restaurant in the city, and sick that the only times I’d come here were with Penn. I could practically feel his blue eyes on me as I slipped in from the side entrance of the Parker Hotel, past the bar furnished with red velvet chaises, and into the marble interior of the lobby.