Writing A Wrong (Write Stuff 2)

"I'm surprised I'm not tossing my cookies too," Michelle commented. "I can't step near a boat without getting seasick. My doctor gave me this before I left, just in case." She held up her arm to reveal a band around her wrist. "It's called a Sea-Band. It's supposed to work without drugs, but Tina's right. Dramamine should help."

Their concern was touching. At least I didn't have to feel embarrassed about my weakness. Here I'd been thinking this trip would be glamorous. Right. About as glamorous as my head in the toilet could be.

While Greg was filling the monstrous gas tank of the Beast, I loaded up on snacks I felt wouldn't upset my stomach and grabbed a few bottles of Dramamine. It was going to be a long tour.

"Everybody ready to go?" Greg asked, climbing into the driver's seat.

"No. Yes. Are you sure you can't just drop me off at an airport? Better yet, maybe I can take a taxi to the airport."

He smiled, reaching over to pat my hand which was clutching the armrest. I took his suggestion and set myself up in the front passenger seat. "Did you take the Dr

amamine?"

I nodded, keeping my eyes on the road ahead as the vehicle roared to life. I had to admit, the view from the front was kind of cool. Sitting up high like this, I could see everything.

"What about snacks? Did you get some Ben and Jerry's Half Baked?"

"Was there anything about me Olivia didn't tell you?" I appreciated his concern, but I wasn't sure I was comfortable being an open book.

"All part of the job," he said, slowly steering the RV past the gas pumps and back onto the main road. I waited apprehensively for the dizziness to return, but I seemed to be holding myself together. I didn't want to get excited too soon. The real truth would come once we reached the mountains. If I could make it through those winding rounds, I could survive anything.

"Hanging in there so far?" Greg asked, merging onto the highway.

I nodded, waiting with bated breath. The wind hadn't let up, so the RV still swayed, but I wasn't feeling sick yet.

"Told you it would work," he gloated.

"I can deal with this. I may not get any work done while the Puke Factory is in motion, but at least my parents won't have to go coffin shopping." We drove past a pasture covered in a blanket of snow. One lone cow stood near the fence, foraging for any grass it could find. Poor guy. Standing out in the cold eating frozen grass couldn't be fun. "So, are you going to miss the city while we're gone?"

"I'll tell you what I won't miss, driving this monster in the city," he answered, patting the steering wheel. "It's much easier out here on the open road, but to answer your question—yes and no. I'll miss the daily happenings at work, but I'm hoping this trip will earn me my stripes. I've been doing all the grunt work since I got hired after graduation last year. This tour could be the biggest opportunity of my life. My days of being a lackey might be over. If I don't screw it up."

I twisted in my seat to look at him, but the motion made my stomach flip. Turning slowly back around to face the window, I picked up my Sprite, swallowing a tentative drink.

"You okay?" Greg asked.

I took a few more sips of my drink to keep my mouth from going dry. "Just trying to get a handle on this. It's a learning curve. I need to keep my eyes straight ahead. I'm not trying to be rude, just so you know. As for your comment, I'm sure they don't think of you as a lackey."

"Definitely keep your eyes straight ahead. If you do need to hurl, better it goes that way rather than in my lap," he said, pointing to the dashboard.

"I'll do my best." I smiled but kept my focus on the windshield.

"Believe me. They make no secret of the fact that I'm a lackey or a grunt or an intern, depending on who's giving me orders. It's all good though. Everyone has to start at the bottom. It's the way things are run in the legit world. The important thing is not staying at the bottom too long. Now is my time to prove my worth. Isn't that how you started?"

I mulled over his words. I guess you could say he was right. When I started as an indie author, I was less than a grunt. I was a nobody who knew nothing. That was the option I chose. During the past year I'd been able to skip some steps and advance my career quicker than I anticipated, but that didn't diminish all the hard work it took me to get here. "You're right," I said, agreeing with him. "We're all grunts at one point or another. It makes us who we are. I can tell you I made some colossal mistakes in the beginning though."

He smirked. "I bet my mistakes top yours. One time I was supposed to mail out advanced reader copies for Jamie Lynn and I forgot to put the book in half the envelopes."

"Um, wait. How do you miss empty envelopes? Were you high or something?" He didn't answer right away but sat with a smirk on his face as he stared straight ahead. "Well?"

"Not high exactly, just slightly hung over, and I didn't say the envelopes were empty. Some of them just happened to contain the wrong book."

"Oh lord. What book did you replace it with?"

"A book called Fit at Fifty: A Guide to Middle-Aged Health. I'll never forget that title as long as I live. About a week after I sent them out we started getting tweets from all these bloggers who had been expecting Jamie's book. It was the final book in the Broken series, so everybody was hyped for it. The publisher was so pissed. I almost lost my job if not for Chelsea, who talked them out of it."

I laughed at the expression on his face. I kind of felt bad for doing so, but the way he told the story tickled me. Even he couldn't deny it was one of those colossal mistakes that in hindsight you couldn't help but crack up over. We spent mile after mile trading stories about our screwups. Greg was easy to talk to, much like I found with Alec, which helped temporarily fill the ache in my heart.

The sun was beginning to set as Greg merged off the highway just outside of Lexington, Virginia. We were a little more than halfway to our first destination, but everyone seemed ready to get off the Love Bus for the evening. I had managed to keep my nausea in check, so I didn't anticipate a night of hugging the toilet in my hotel room.