Page 36 of Snowflakes and Sparks

“Sure we can. Why don’t you go upstairs and I’ll be right back with the wine,” I said, showing her the way to the living room. I dashed out of the front door and ran over to Alex’s place, hoping he’d have a bottle of wine lying around.

“Do you have any appetizers to serve with the wine?” he asked, taking a bottle out of the fridge.

“If a half-eaten packet of chocolate chip cookies and a bag of cereal counts as appetizers, then yes, I do. Oh, and I’ve also got a dozen cups of instant noodles.”

Alex frowned. “I can’t tell whether you’re joking or whether you’re telling the truth.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Suzie, you can’t serve that woman a bowl of instant noodles. Why don’t you take this bottle back to your place and I’ll whip something up? I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”

“You would do that for me?”

He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s no hassle and I can’t let you feed cereal and wine to the star of the Winter Walk.”

“I appreciate that. Thank you. You can use your spare key, just come on up.”

“I will. Oh, and I’ll charge you later,” he said with a wink, then started rummaging through his cupboards.

I hurried back and joined Becca in the living room with two full wine glasses.

“Cheers,” she said. She downed half the glass in one go. “I needed this. Traveling can be stressful, don’t you think? Sometimes you just want to kick back and enjoy some wine.”

“Totally,” I said. It felt weird sharing a glass of wine with someone so popular, and whom I looked up to.

“I loved your latest book,” I said, breaking the silence between us.

“Aw, thank you. I’m always extremely nervous before a new release. You never know if people are going to love it or hate it, and when you work so hard on something… Well, it’s enough to drive a woman to drink.”

“You’ve got nothing to be nervous about,” I said. “You’re one of the most talented writers I know.”

She laughed. “That’s kind of you to say, but believe me, I’m not perfect. I do know that I’m a lot better than when I first started this career, but I guess that’s how it always goes. Practice makes perfect. And with fifteen books under my belt, I know just how to hit those bestseller charts.”

“Being an author sounds amazing, but I don’t know if I’d be able to pull it off.”

“Nonsense, why wouldn’t you? I get that it’s scary, but if you want to achieve something, you have no choice but to put yourself out there. Do you write?”

“I do, but I’m afraid of people hating my work.”

“Oh, you’ll get negative feedback for sure. Everyone does. Your style won’t be for everyone and people can be harsh, especially online. But if you never try, you’ll never know what it would’ve been like to reach your dreams.”

“Kind of like love,” I said.

“A lot like love, yes. You can’t get someone to love you if you don’t open yourself up to them, even though being vulnerable is hard and scary. It’s the same with writing.”

The bell of the store jingled and I sprang to my feet. “That’ll be Alex, my neighbor.”

“Knock, knock,” he called out, and stepped into the living room with a platter filled with cheese, grapes, olives, some bread and an assortment of nuts.

“That looks delicious,” Becca said as he set the platter on the coffee table. “Much better than those soggy sandwiches they often have at events.”

“Becca’s right, this looks amazing. Thanks so much.”

“It’s no biggie. You ladies enjoy,” he said and then turned to me. “How about I start rearranging some things downstairs to fit everyone in? And then we’ll head to the factory around six?”

“Perfect,” I said and closed the door behind him.

Becca raised her eyebrows. “That hottie is your neighbor? I wonder how you get any sleep at night knowing he’s only a few feet away from you.”

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