The Write Stuff (Write Stuff 1)

"Wow. This is so exciting. I'm an avid reader, much to the displeasure of my husband. He hates it when I start reading a new book. He says I completely block him out."

Finally done coughing, I was able to agree with her. "I'm the same way. I don't get to read as much as I like now since I spend all my time writing, but there's nothing like losing yourself in the pages of an amazing book."

"Yes," she answered enthusiastically, nodding for emphasis. "I can't wait to get off work and tell my husband I served an actual author. And I will definitely pick up your book."

Explaining where to go online to find my books was always awkward for me. As an indie author, none of my titles could be found in the traditional bookstores. Olivia was much better at explaining the logistics, so I let her take over the conversation. After a few moments, the waitress had the complete lowdown with all the links to find my books. Before walking away, she asked me to sign the bookmark and took out her phone for a picture. I grudgingly agreed. Not because I wasn't appreciative. I just had no idea why someone would want a picture with me. Olivia stood from the table to do the honors. "Squeeze a little closer," she said, giving me a wink. "Okay, on three say sexy." She snapped the picture and handed over the phone to our waitress who thanked us again.

"So what else are you working on this week," I asked Olivia after swallowing a bite of my "bland quesadilla" as she referred to it. Her tastes were spicier than mine. I preferred my mouth not feel like it was set on fire.

"I have a couple covers to finish and another shoot for Michelle. She wants a paranormal vibe, so I'm going to do the shoot on Thursday night. It's supposed to be a full moon as long as the clouds behave. Do you want to go out with me and Taylor tomorrow night?"

"I'm not sure. I need to finish Wicked Lovely and get it to Hollie for edits by the twelfth."

"I thought you were almost done."

"I am, but I sorta got interrupted today."

She merely raised her eyebrow at me. "I'm not letting you lay that on me. We both know you prefer to write at night anyway."

"You don't know me that well. Maybe I decided during summer break, since I don't have to worry about classes, I might try writing during the day and actually sleep at night."

"Right. I'll believe it when I see it. You're a habitual night owl."

I sighed. "True." I had always been more of a creature of the night. Even when I was younger I would stay up past my bedtime reading under my blankets with the small flashlight my oldest brother, Tony, had given me.

"I still think you should go out with us. You've been holed up in your apartment every weekend for so long I'm surprised someone hasn't come in and swapped your college ID for an AARP card. You need to get out occasionally. Let your hair down. Go wild."

"Seriously?" I snorted. "In all the years we've known each other when have I ever gone wild?" I shook my head as I wiped sour cream from the corner of my mouth.

"Well, you're still young. There's never been a better time to start. Come with us, Nicole. You'll have fun, and it'll be good for you to get out."

I pondered her words heavily as we continued our meal. I couldn't deny her point. These were the years in my life when I should be living it up a little. Besides, I enjoyed hanging out with Olivia. We had been close since middle school when she kicked Kara Miller's ass for picking on me. From that day forward, we became best friends. We had a yin-and-yang type of relationship. I was shy and reserved; she was confident and in your face.

Olivia had the type of features any girl would kill for. She was tall and had a beautiful face with long shiny black hair and drop-dead gorgeous eyes. Then there was awkward me with my pale skin, lanky hair and murky, mud-colored eyes. Olivia had always told me I was full of shit; that I was more attractive than I thought and she would kick my ass for thinking otherwise. That was why I loved her so much. She had always been a loyal friend above all else.

"Hello, Nicole. You're zoning out again." Olivia snapped her fingers in my face, getting my attention. Everyone who knew me had gotten used to my occasional zoning out. Most times it was because I was thinking about my current work in progress. My brothers would tease me, claiming they could actually see smoke coming out of my ears.

"Sorry," I said, dunking the quesadilla in guacamole.

"So, tomorrow? You in?"

I nodded. "I guess. I can always write when I get home."

Olivia smiled with satisfaction. For the rest of the meal we discussed my new cover. I managed to dodge the Alec issue by refusing to acknowledge any more of Olivia's comments on the matter. Eventually we came up with a game plan on how to handle the reshoot. Ironically, after everything that happened on the beach this morning, she admitted it was all for the best because the pose she had envisioned for the models had been overdone and she already had another idea—if she could get the lighting perfect, of course. That was her standard worry for every shoot. At least she was back on track, which was all I cared about.

We left the practically frigid temperature of the restaurant for the sweltering heat outside. I was surprised I didn't get sick more often. "Well, what's the verdict? Si or no on the taquitos?"

"Not bad. It wasn't SoCal good, obviously, but maybe we'll keep it in the rotation. Me and Taylor will swing by your place at eight tomorrow to pick you up."

"Okay, but no sushi this time." The last time Olivia had tried to expand my palate I ended up gagging and nearly vomiting on the waiter's shoes. It wasn't something the staff at the restaurant took too kindly, but lesson learned.

Olivia chuckled. "Fine, but who knew you would be such a baby?"

I stuck my tongue out at her as I climbed into my jeep.

Chapter Four

By two o'clock the following afternoon I was regretting my snap decision to go out with Olivia and Taylor. My groove had returned and I stayed up all night writing. I'd likely suffer the consequences later, but for now I had a euphoric feeling as all the pieces of my story began to click together. I knew if I didn't want to be a complete zombie when I went out later, I needed to get a couple hours of sleep in. Tearing myself away from my manuscript was tough, but at three o'clock I forced myself to shut it down.