Page 63 of Unconventionally, Elle

Now

S?pringtime in Boston was busy, like an emergence from a long hibernation. Flowers were starting to pop up out of the snow, grass was finding its way out of its dormant stage, and the birds were singing sweet melodies.

After gaining a new perspective from my grandmother's manuscript, I rewrote my original story for the competition, the one I never submitted.

Then Emma helped refer me to some agents she knew in the area and in New York, and I submitted to them to see if they'd be interested in working with me to make my story a reality.

Unfortunately, I received zero responses.

When I reached out to Em, she told me it could take weeks if not months for agents to respond, so I was in limbo.

I decided that there was no better time to go to New York for a few days with Louie to see Rachel.

She was settled into her apartment in Dumbo, and Central Park had become one of our favorite meeting spots.

Rach was at work, and I was relaxing in her guest room with Louie watching The Office , per usual. While scrolling through social media, I had two emails come in back to back.

Hi Elle,

Thank you for submitting your manuscript. Unfortunately, I'm not taking on any new authors. I wish you the best.

Regards,

Andrew Lenard, Tiff Literary

Well shit, why couldn't he send that weeks ago when he already knew he wasn't going to accept me as an author?

I felt my confidence sink a little at the rejection, but he was just one agent.

There were still other responses I was waiting for.

More emails came through. It must be query Tuesday , I thought to myself.

One agent declined outright with no explanation.

That was nice. I rolled my eyes. Little Lou was snoring at the head of the bed--on my pillow, more precisely.

I smiled at my little lovebug. I looked back to my phone after scratching his head and read the last email.

Cindy Narland was from Goldengate Lit and said she was no longer looking for romance even though her manuscript wish list hadn't been updated.

On the flip side, she did encourage me to keep pursuing my goals, so that was nice.

I felt antsy with the rejections I'd received, so I decided to head into Manhattan. It was a beautiful day to sit in Central Park, and I texted Rach to let her know we could meet for happy hour.

While sitting on a bench close to the Pond, I noticed a man running up who looked oddly familiar--too familiar.

He was getting closer, but he had his headphones in and wasn't looking directly at me.

The tips of his chestnut hair were sweaty, and his stubble really did look very Clooney.

I stared at him as he got closer and closer.

When he noticed me, our eyes locked and he shuffled the next couple of yards to my bench.

When he stopped in front of me, he was panting and trying to catch his breath.

He took his headphones out of his ears, looped them across his neck, and then shook his head like a puppy, spraying sweat all over me.

"You did that on purpose, ass."

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't." Jude's smirk was devilish.

"Well, I guess you can sit down if you'd like," I said, patting the empty space on the bench next to me.

"We can't keep meeting like this," he said as he took a deep breath and sat down next to me.

I could smell the woody citrus scent of his cologne as his body leaned closer to mine.

"Why are you all alone in Central Park?" he asked as he readjusted his headphones on his neck.

"What are you doing running? I didn't know you still ran?" I asked instead.

"That's irrelevant. I run so I don't have to think. Easy enough," he said, cocking an eyebrow at me. "Seriously, though. What are you in New York for?"

"To see you, of course." I stuck my tongue out at him.

"You've got jokes today, Elle Belle."

"I try." I turned my body to face him. His expression was open, and I couldn't place it. Maybe relaxed? "How are you doing since your mom? I know we've been talking intermittently, but now that I see you in the flesh, how are you, Jude?"

"Thanks for asking." His grin was genuine and effortless. "I'm doing much better. It was rough there for a bit, but I know you get it. Thanks for always responding to my texts. Sometimes I just had to vent, ya know?"

I curled both of my legs up onto the bench. "I know." I smiled gently, then told him what had been weighing heavy on my heart for months. "I'm sorry how we left things last time, Jude. I really am."

His short laugh made the butterflies in my stomach wake up.

"Who knows? Maybe the stars will align one day, Elle Belle." He flashed a quick smile. "I'll be here, though. I meant what I said. I love you and I always have."

He stood up, grabbed his headphones, and placed them in his ears. "If you're in New York for a while, let's grab a bite, yeah?" he asked while brushing his hand through his damp hair.

"I'll text you," I said and waved as he turned around to keep on running.

Just then, Rach messaged me.

Rach: Ready, Freddie? I can meet you at this bar I want to show you. It's a bookstore and a bar at the same time! It's so you.

Me: You know me so well! Text me the deets and I'll meet you.

Rachel and I stayed out way too late for thirtysomethings on a random Tuesday night. Who knew you could drink too many espresso martinis while giggling over EmHen's newest book. The next morning, we both sat on a park bench with Louie, nursing our black coffees.

"You know, maybe if you sit here long enough, a runner will stop and ask you to marry them?" she joked as I brought my coffee to my lips.

The park was nice midmorning.

"Been there done that," I said nonchalantly.

"What? Who? When?" She leaned in closer for the gossip.

Louie lifted his head and snorted.

"While I was waiting for you yesterday. Jude was running and stopped to chat for a bit. Only difference is he didn't ask me to marry him." I laughed and placed the coffee back on my right thigh.

"Jesus, Elle. You and Jude run into each other like it's fate or something. Do you realize how big New York City really is? And you see him here?"

"I don't know." I shrugged.

I was wiping away one of Louie's eye boogers when Rachel pointed at my purse with a curious expression on her face. "Elle, I think your phone is going off." I grabbed it and glanced at the number. I didn't recognize it.

"I don't know who it is." I looked at Rachel, confused.

"Answer it, dummy. You never know."

I didn't want to pick up, but she was sitting right next to me and pressured me into it. "Fine," I said.

I took a deep breath and answered my phone. "Hello, this is Elle."

The conversation lasted only a minute, and my body was vibrating. I hung up after repeated thank-yous and stared wide-eyed at Rach.

"Oh my God, oh my God! Who was it? Elle, you look extremely odd. What happened?" Rachel was freaking out and Louie started barking.

"Rach! Rach!"

"Fuck, Elle. What is it?"

"Rachel, I have an agent!"

Her jaw dropped and then she was standing on the bench screaming, "My best friend just got an agent! She's going to be a famous writer! My best friend has an agent!"

The laughter escaped from my lips, and I jumped up on the bench with her, holding Louie of course, and started chanting, "I got an agent! I got an agent!"

When we finally sat back down, Louie's eyes were terrified and Rach was panting.

"Okay, so which agent chose to represent you?" she asked as she cleaned the spilled coffee from her hand and forearm."So, it wasn't anyone I sent a submission to. It was an agent from the writing competition I entered a few months ago! Her name is Jordan Cline."

"Oh shit! Okay, what did she say?"

"Rach, I can't believe this is real. Seriously. Fuck. Ahh! She said she loved my writing style and my voice and has been thinking about my novel ever since she read it. When she told me she wanted to represent me, Rach, I almost died. Like, oh my God! She wants to represent me!"

Rach leaned in despite Louie's discomfort and pulled me into a warm, firm hug.

Louie was barking like crazy, and suddenly I couldn't stop crying.

The happiest tears I've ever cried were racing down my cheeks.

"She wants me to send her any other projects I've been working on.

I'm gonna send her the manuscript I've been submitting.

I think she'd love it. She says she represents mostly general fiction but loves a good romance.

" My cheeks were hurting from smiling so much.

"Oh my God, my chest hurts, I can't breathe.

" I grabbed my chest and leaned back on the bench.

Louie whined and crawled up me.

"We have to call Sarah, like now!" Rach said.

"And Finn and Jackson. Oh, and Jude," I added.

She lifted an eyebrow and gave me a knowing grin. Rachel dialed Sarah's number, and while she did that, I quickly sent separate texts to everyone.

Me: I did it! I got an agent! I'm on my way to getting published.

Jackson responded immediately.

Congrats, Elle. Wishing you the best. So proud.

Finn used way too many exclamation points, but all were appreciated.

Let's go, my future bestselling author!!!!

Five minutes later, I had a text from Jude.

I always believed you could do it. Dinner to celebrate? Xo

We all met at a vegan restaurant in Tribeca to celebrate. Rach and Josh, Finn and Jackson, Jude--everyone was there except Sarah, who told us to FaceTime her when we sat down so she could officially be there.

It was a round table inside, close to the bar, and Jude arrived before us.

The boys had been in New York for a musical, so they hopped over after their matinee.

Greetings were exchanged, and as I went to sit, I noticed an empty seat next to Jude's jacket.

I glanced sideways to catch Rach's eye. She nodded and smiled in encouragement.

Jude was standing by me in the bustle of bodies trying to take a seat, so I leaned over and asked, "May I?" I pointed to the empty chair by his jacket. "Or are you saving it for your girlfriend?" I said with a glint in my eye.

He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear. "It's yours."

Goose bumps erupted down my arms and a tingle spread throughout my body. "Good." I lifted my chin and gave him a sly grin.

We all sat down and ordered cocktails to celebrate my getting an agent. As if we were still in New Orleans and as if years hadn't passed, Jude rested his arm on the back of my chair and I placed a hand on the top of his thigh.

Once the cocktails arrived, Jude raised his scotch, and everyone lifted their drinks in response.

"To Elle, for writing not one but two books, getting a lit agent, and doing it all even though she was scared as hell.

I told her I was going to give a toast tonight, so she requested some very specific words for me to share.

" He turned to me for a quick pause, smiled, and then looked back to the group.

"To the dreamers who dream and the ones who never give up. "