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She picked up on the first ring. “Seriously, you can’t do this to me. We’re a business partnership, you know that, right? And I’m laying down the best friend card, too.”

Oh no.Only once in the last four years had Viviane laid that tone on her, when they had differing opinions about attending the largest NYC book fair of the year. Mack lost then, too. “I’m sorry. No joke, I really was in my zone this time.”

“How close are you to meeting the deadline?”

“I’m going to be a little late getting it to you.”

Her mind flashed to Charlie’s face flushing last night as her protection wall crumbled, and she opened up about her past. Originally, Mack dug for details for a different reason, but Charlie steamrolled Mack with her innocence and vulnerability.

“I can’t do this anymore.” Mack flung back on the bed. “Using these stories from the coffee shop. So, I need more time. Do whatever you have to do, but let the publisher know there’ll be a delay.”

Viviane exhaled. “You’re not writing a memoir. You’re writing fiction. Really good fiction. Doesn’t matter where it comes from.”

It does now.

Hard stop. Mack needed additional resources. She shifted to her side and ran a fingertip across her mouth. Charlie’s soft mouth left hers hours ago, but if Mack closed her eyes tight enough, she could faintly sense the imprint of Charlie’s lips.

She sat upright on the bed. “I need a few more weeks to research.”

“Your research is solid.” The harsh, yet motherly, tone echoed through the receiver. “If hearing the coffee shop stories expedites your work, then you need to keep at it. The publishers called today.”

“And?”

“Do you remember all the details of the contract?”

“God, no. That’s why I have you.”

The sound of an office chair rolling back and forth sounded through the phone. Which was not a good sign, as that was Viviane’s go-to when delivering harsh news. “Okay, part of the contract states if you do not meet the milestone deadlines, they have the right to rescind your advancement.”

Mack’s mouth went dry. “What? What do you mean?”

“You don’t produce, you repay.”

The sharp words cut Mack’s breath. Repay? All? Some? What exactly did that mean? Not that the explanation mattered—the advance was gone days after she received it. Handed over in one lump sum to a hospital billing department, chemo center, and recovery facility.

Mack pressed her palm into her forehead. “There must be something you can do.”

An uneasy silence followed.

“Sometimes we have some wiggle room,” Viviane finally said. “During our call, I toed the waters, but their response was firm.”

The team had set the publishing schedule for the next eighteen months. This shouldn’t shock Mack, but Viviane’s sharp tone blared all the alarm bells. Mack had precisely four weeks to finish an editor-worthy draft. Stomach acid vaulted to her throat. “I need more time.”

“Firm, Mack.”

She scooted up on the bed and dropped her head into her arms. Her heart thumped and she inhaled and released full breaths. Trapped under a deadline, again, the creative blanket she’d wrapped herself in since setting foot in Seattle disintegrated.

“No one’s going to recognize themselves in your work,” Viviane said. “No person ever reads a book and thinks it was based on a conversation they had with someone at a diner or a shop. You’re going to be fine. You’re panicking, and that’s okay, but just head there tomorrow?—”

“They’re Charlie’s stories.”

“Charlie?” A long pause followed. “Oh dear.”

Viviane’s defeated voice matched Mack’s insides. More silence followed, and if the gravity of the situation hadn’t sunk in before, it sunk in now.

“Well, woman, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.” Viviane sighed. “Looks like you have a decision to make. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to fly solo on this one. If you need me to help you with that decision, you holler immediately.”

Mack had already decided. She just needed to come to terms with the consequences. Losing an advance was one thing. Losing her contract, career, and reputation was another.