Page 90
Story: Someone Knows
Relax.
A minute later, there’s a soft knock on my apartment door. I take a deep breath before wiping my palms on my pants and opening it.
He smiles. “Hey.”
“Hi, Noah.”
CHAPTER
46
Noah
One hour earlier
Ireally think readers are going to love this as much as I do. I can already see this sitting onThe New York Timeslist.”
“Oh yeah? Well, if it does, you’ll have to let me take you out to celebrate.”
“The team would love that.”
“Was kinda thinking it could be just me and you, darlin’.”
My editor blushes. “How long are you in town?”
“Just a few days. I’m visiting an old friend.”
“Do you come to New York often?”
“I think I’m going to be here a lot in the foreseeable future. I have some business to take care of.” I look at my watch. “Speaking of which, I should get going.”
Rena stands and extends a hand. “I’m really glad I got to meet you in person.”
I take it but lift it to my mouth, drop a kiss on the top. “Not as glad as I am.”
She walks me out to the lobby, to the revolving door at the front entrance. “I almost forgot to ask—at the end of the book, the protagonist finds her notebook in her mom’s house. So it was her mother sending the chaptersall along?”
I wink. “Maybe . . . or maybe the antagonist was a really good liar and wanted revenge for the twenty years of suffering his mother went through after her husband was killed and she found his journals.”
Rena laughs. “You’re really not going to tell me?”
“Gotta keep you curious so you’ll want to read book two.”
“Will you at least give me a hint about what’s going to happen? With the new ending, I’m sure readers will be curious whether the son gets together with his father’s old victim or he’s just seeking revenge.”
I smile. “That remains to be determined.”
She laughs. “You authors are so secretive.”
“That we are . . .that we are.”
It’s a beautiful afternoon, so I decide to walk to pick up my date. I stop at a florist and grab a bundle of wildflowers, then pop into a liquor store for a bottle of wine. My cell phone rings two blocks from my destination. It’s a local number, so I answer, thinking it could be her.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Noah Sawyer?”
“It is indeed.”
A minute later, there’s a soft knock on my apartment door. I take a deep breath before wiping my palms on my pants and opening it.
He smiles. “Hey.”
“Hi, Noah.”
CHAPTER
46
Noah
One hour earlier
Ireally think readers are going to love this as much as I do. I can already see this sitting onThe New York Timeslist.”
“Oh yeah? Well, if it does, you’ll have to let me take you out to celebrate.”
“The team would love that.”
“Was kinda thinking it could be just me and you, darlin’.”
My editor blushes. “How long are you in town?”
“Just a few days. I’m visiting an old friend.”
“Do you come to New York often?”
“I think I’m going to be here a lot in the foreseeable future. I have some business to take care of.” I look at my watch. “Speaking of which, I should get going.”
Rena stands and extends a hand. “I’m really glad I got to meet you in person.”
I take it but lift it to my mouth, drop a kiss on the top. “Not as glad as I am.”
She walks me out to the lobby, to the revolving door at the front entrance. “I almost forgot to ask—at the end of the book, the protagonist finds her notebook in her mom’s house. So it was her mother sending the chaptersall along?”
I wink. “Maybe . . . or maybe the antagonist was a really good liar and wanted revenge for the twenty years of suffering his mother went through after her husband was killed and she found his journals.”
Rena laughs. “You’re really not going to tell me?”
“Gotta keep you curious so you’ll want to read book two.”
“Will you at least give me a hint about what’s going to happen? With the new ending, I’m sure readers will be curious whether the son gets together with his father’s old victim or he’s just seeking revenge.”
I smile. “That remains to be determined.”
She laughs. “You authors are so secretive.”
“That we are . . .that we are.”
It’s a beautiful afternoon, so I decide to walk to pick up my date. I stop at a florist and grab a bundle of wildflowers, then pop into a liquor store for a bottle of wine. My cell phone rings two blocks from my destination. It’s a local number, so I answer, thinking it could be her.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Noah Sawyer?”
“It is indeed.”
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