Page 47 of The Shape of Night

As I pick it up, my heart is still thudding, my hands unsteady. “Hello?”

“At last you pick up. I’ve left three voicemails for you.”

“Hello, Simon.” I sigh and sit down on the bed.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I didn’t want to get distracted. I’ve been in the zone.”

“What, the twilight zone?”

“Research. Writing.”

“Yes, I read the chapters you sent me.”

“What do you think?”

“They’re good.”

“Just good?”

“Okay, okay. They’re fuckinggreat.What you wrote about oysters made me so hungry I went out and gorged on two dozen, washed down with a martini.”

“Then I did my job right.”

“When do I get to read the rest of it?”

I look at the pile of clothes, which are still lying on the floor where I dropped them last night. The ghost has distracted me. How can I write when every moment I stop to sniff the air, hoping to catch his scent?

“The bookiscoming along,” I assure him. “This house has been the perfect inspiration.”

“Ah yes, Brodie’s Watch. That’s why I’m calling. I want to see it.”

“Of course. I can send you some photos. I’m not the world’s best photographer, but—”

“I want to see it in person. I was thinking this weekend.”

“What?”

“It’s ninety-two degrees here in the city and I need to get out of Boston before I melt. Look, Ava, you’ve been MIA for months now, and Theo insisted I check on your progress. He signed your advance check and now he wants reassurance that you’re back on track to deliver. If I leave by noon Friday, I should be up there around five-ish. Or do you have a date with a hot lumberjack that evening?”

“I, um…” I have no excuse, none at all. All I can say is: “That would be fine.”

“Good. I’ll take you out to dinner, if you’d like.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Then I’ll cook dinner. Or you cook. I’m just keen to lay eyes on this sea captain’s house. Besides, it’s time to think about marketing strategies. Based on the chapters you’ve sent me, this book is going to be about far more than food. You’ve given it a true sense of place, Ava, and now I want to see Brodie’s Watch for myself.”

“It’s a long drive, just to see a house.”

“I’m coming to see you, too. Everyone’s been asking why you haven’t been around lately. Why you’ve vanished.”

If only I could vanish. If only I could melt away into these walls like Captain Brodie. Turn invisible so that no one can see what I’ve become. But I’ve known Simon for years, since long before he became my editor, and I know that once he’s made up his mind, there’s no changing it.

“If you’re arriving that late in the afternoon, you’ll probably want to spend the night here,” I say.

“I was hoping you’d offer.”