Page 45 of Is This for Real?
I narrow my eyes at Jamie. What is up with him?
“Probably,” I say. “And my storyline, which parallels the book, is getting more followers every week.”
“Why won’t you let me read it?” Olivia pours some more milk for her son.
Because I can’t take your criticism.“You can definitely be a beta reader. I’d love your feedback.”
“I’d be happy to read it,” Jamie says, “once I’m done with the tech due diligence for this M&A deal. I can give you the guy perspective.” He winks at me.Winks.
“Rory gives me the guy perspective.” I put my hand over Rory’s. “And this guy, Aarav, in my writers’ group.”
“But I’d like to do it. It’s the least I can do—the store’s Instagram account has really picked up from your posts. Isn’t it better to have as many beta readers as possible?”
“No offense, but you’re not really my target demographic. And I like to stick to other writers as beta readers because friends can leave you hanging.”
“But you give it to Rory.”
“The burdens of being my boyfriend.”
“The joys of being your boyfriend.” Rory puts his arm around me, and I lean into him.
Olivia asks what we’re doing tonight. I look guiltily at Rory. We had no plans to spend the evening together. I was planning to write as much as possible today.
Rory says, “We’re going to an art show opening, which includes one of my mom’s new clients. She’s representing this up-and-coming painter.” He takes another bite of his omelet.
I nod.
“That sounds exciting,” Olivia says.
Jamie gets up to pour himself another cup of coffee and asks, “So if you get the teaching job, does that start in January? That won’t interfere with this, right?”
“What teaching job?” Olivia asks.
Rory darts a sharp look at me. I can feel his shock next to me.
“Yes, what teaching job?” Rory asks.
“Mom told me. Was it supposed to be a secret?” Jamie asks.
“No, I . . .” I don’t know what to say. I know Rory is disappointed in me. “I applied for a job teaching writing, but it’s a long shot. It won’t start until January. I told your mom because I thought it would alleviate some of her worry about me. But I’m not giving up writing.” I turn to Rory as I say the last bit, willing him to understand.
Rory looks down at his plate.
“Well, you were only planning to take two years to write full time, right? And that’s up in January, so that makes sense. I hope you get the job,” Olivia says. There’s a pause. “What kind of art will be shown at the opening tonight?”
I look at Rory. His eyes seem a colder slate gray than their usual blue and green.
“Paintings. Abstract paintings,” Rory says.
Olivia turns to me. “Do you ever still draw? Will you illustrate your own cover?”
“No.” My lips press together. “I’m so out of practice.”
“Oh, you used to draw all the time. Do you remember?”
This brunch has been enough of a disaster.She is not about to go there, is she?I put down my fork. I don’t want to have food in my mouth if I need to change the topic quickly.
“Penelope took portrait drawing classes in high school.” Olivia points to a portrait I drew of her that I gave her as a gift. It’s hanging on the wall above the sideboard. I also did one of our parents and one required self-portrait. Other than those, I drew tons of portraits of Jamie. My jaw clenches.
