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“You’re certain?” she asks. “That’s already pushing our production schedule to its limits. If we have to move to fall, that will change the budget considerably—”

“It would be a nightmare,” Tony from finance calls at the back of the room.

“You’ll have it,” I vow. My heart is racing. I sit back down.

As Patrisse moves forward to the next slide, I pull out my phone under the conference table, and compose the email I’ve been reluctant to send.

From:[email protected]

To:[email protected]

Date:April 13, 11:51 a.m.

Subject:Edward and Elizabeth

Are they finding their way?

From:[email protected]

To:[email protected]

Date:April 13, 11:57 a.m.

Subject:re: Edward and Elizabeth

I was just about to write to you!

They’re coming to life.

Could we talk through the character arcs? I’d love your thoughts before I get too deep.

I pore over the twenty-seven words of Noah’s email. Exclamation point after the first sentence—always a good sign! And he doesn’t seem bothered that I breached our agreement and made contact. But “before I get too deep,” suggests that he’s not yet deep in the writing. Just how un-deep is he? Ten thousand words? Two fifty? And the use of the wordlove...

After sales conference adjourns, I race back to my desk, pick up the phone, and dial Terry, telling myself I willnottake any of her guff today.

“Hey...”

It’s Noah’s voice. It sounds softer. Or is this just the way he speaks on the phone? It’s our first time.

“Oh,” I say. “Hi. I thought I’d have to go through Terry. You’ve never answered this phone before.”

Is he in his office? At that desk? Looking out at that view of Central Park? What’s he wearing? What’s he drinking? Does he have writing snacks?

“Terry’s at the dentist.”

“Well, that’s lucky. I mean, not for her dentist. I mean...” Is this what happens to me when I don’t talk to Noah for three weeks? I turn into a nervous wreck? “You wanted to talk?”

“I do. I want your opinion. I was hoping we could meet, but then...” He pauses. “I got a call from my mom’s doctor, and I need to go see her. I’m catching a train this afternoon. I’ll be back Sunday, if that works for you—”

“Do you want company?”

There’s a pause. “On the train?” Noah says.

He sounds surprised but not necessarily intruded upon, so I persevere.

“A train’s as good a place as any for us to talk about your characters,” I say. “Right?”

“You’d ride the train down to D.C. with me, just to talk about the book?”