Page 17

I was so embarrassed I slammed the picture down on my desk so my friends couldn't stare at me.

"I really appreciate it. Tell everyone how grateful I am."

"Trust me, they're having fun with it. They haven't had a good problem to fix in a while."

Not since Charley banned them from helping with her divorce.

"You still coming to visit?" The Tampa Bay Tangerines, the soccer team Charley and Annalise played for, had a week off and Charley planned to come play emotional support human. She was convinced I might run off and disappear permanently if she didn't keep tabs on me.

She wasn't wrong.

"Sure am. I want to see this magical place of yours."

"You just want to make sure I've left the cabin."

She smirked. "That too. But seriously, do not fall into your old patterns. In fact, I forbid you to write anything until I get there. Explore. Relax. Meet new people."

My stomach dropped. "What if they recognize me?"

She cocked an eyebrow. "You don't look anything like you do when you're at an event and all dolled up. And unless you're going to throw your pen name around, who is going to look at you, out of your element, and say, 'Huh, you know what? You look just like that author everyone on the planet is mad at. Are you A.M Quill?'"

She had a point. I made the decision early on to make A.M Quill a character just like in my books. She had her own makeup, her own hairstyle, and I wore outfits as Quill that I'd never wear in real life. Today I had on stretchy boyfriend jeans, one of my favorite tank tops, a sweater, and two pairs of socks. A.M. Quill would never. She was a high heels, red lips, pencil skirt, big hair person. I preferred messy buns and bare feet. Although socks weren't so bad.

"Okay, you're right. No one has noticed me." Except maybe Joanne. I couldn't figure out why she stared at me the way she did in the office.

"No one? That implies you've spoken to people. Good job, Lee!"

I rolled my eyes, tempted to hit that red button again. "I talk to people. Especially strangers who aren't mad at me for leaving them on an epic cliffhanger."

I thought back to Jackson again. No recognition, just kindness.

And a killer smile.

And those eyes...

"Why do you look like that?"

I snapped my attention to the phone. "What do I look like?"

"Dreamy. You look dreamy." Her eyes narrowed. "You met a guy!"

"I did not." At least not one I'd ever see again. "That's so...sexist!"

She drew back. "Okay, I'll give you that. Implying you're dreamy over a dude is very old fashioned, but I know you. I know your looks. You only get that going," she waved her finger at me, "when you're making characters fall for each other—which I know for a fact you're not doing right now. So, call me sexist or whatever, but I know I'm right."

I really hated how well she knew me. And I wasn't sure I liked that Jackson made me get all dreamy either. In fact, now I hoped we never ran into each other again.

Okay, that was a flat-out lie. If I saw him again, I would at least get his last name so I could look him up and figure out if he was really as kind as he seemed.

"The elevation change got to me," I confessed. "I kind of freaked out."

"Not while you were driving?"

I cringed. "I pulled off to get myself together."

"Okay, that's good. And?"

"And a very nice man helped me calm down. We ate lunch together."