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Me:I know. Did you think of anything?
Erica:No, but maybe Monica has some ideas.
Me:What?
I was confused by what she meant.
Erica:She’s a romance writer. Read one of her books. Maybe it will inspire you. You can see what her version of a relationship looks like.
Of course. I wondered why I hadn’t thought of that. I suddenly felt guilty for never picking up one of Monica’s books. It was just whenever we talked about her writing, she never really wanted to get into it. I never pressed her on it. There were things I didn’t want to get into either. We both had our things.
Me:You’re a genius.
Erica:I know.
Me:I’ll go to the bookstore tomorrow. Thanks, sis.
Erica:Take a picture while you’re there.
Me:Why?
Erica:Because I can’t imagine you in a bookstore.
Me:Ha ha. Goodbye.
Erica:Good luck, bro.
I smiled and looked at my phone before sliding it back into the pocket of my jacket. I felt a little less hopeless than I had in a while. Maybe there was a chance I could win Monica back, and she would inadvertently show me exactly how to do it.
“What are you smiling at?” asked the jerk who sat across from me. “Ooooh, did that PA text you something naughty?”
My smile quickly disappeared from my face.
“What?” he asked innocently. “Don’t act like you haven’t fucked every PA who’s gone through your office. Maybe you could send her my way when you’re done with her.”
I felt my face start to burn with an anger that started in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to reach across the table and grab him by the collar, but I knew I couldn’t make a scene. Not in front of my father. I leaned forward as if I was going to tell him a secret, and he eagerly leaned in too.
“If you ever talk about her like that again, I will shove my fist so far into your face that you won’t see straight,” I whispered.
He pulled back, his face grim and white as the color faded. He stayed quiet for the rest of the night. Jeremy did too. There was no other mention of Monica or where he knew her from. The only thing I had to put up with was my father’s snide remarks he so often tossed my way, clearly still not over how I showed him up at the conference earlier. I owed Monica big time.
The next morning, I woke up and immediately headed to the bookstore, not bothering with breakfast or coffee. I was too eager to know more about Monica through the pages of her books. Inside the bookstore, I asked one of the sales associates to point me in the direction of the romance section. She looked slightly amused as she led me to my destination. I thanked her and began scanning the shelves for Monica’s name.
My finger stopped on Durrall and continued moving across a row of books with pastel-colored spines, all with her name on it. My eyes widened slightly as I realized how many books she had. She was the real deal. An established author. I wondered why she was working for me when she had built this success for herself. I grabbed a copy of every single book of hers and built a pile in the crook of my arm. I balanced the books as I walked to the register and paid the same sales associate who found me so amusing before.
“Big fan?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she scanned each book.
“You could say that,” I replied.
“You know…it’s not every day you see a guy practically buy out the entire romance section.”
“What can I say? I lovelove.” I shrugged.
She laughed softly as she packed up my books and handed me the heavy paper bag.
“Enjoy, Romeo,” she said.
I spent the next two days on my couch, sipping on coffee and reading her latest book as the city turned white with snow. I couldn’t remember the last time I had read a book, and it most certainly wasn’t a romance novel. But the more I read, the more I realized Monica was an incredible writer. Erica had been right about her. Her words flowed off the page effortlessly as she built a story of two people and the passions and complexities of their relationship. It felt like I was getting to know her in a new way. Like I was getting closer to her with every word I read.