Page 67 of Guys Can't Write Romance
“She’s not a fan, is she?”
“I would use the word ‘despise’ to describe it. She had Daisy’s future all planned for her, and then you came along like this sweaty monkey-wrench and jammed it all up. Which, by the way, is awesome. So, in case you were wondering, this is me giving you my official endorsement. Keep up the good work, coach.”
Chapter sixteen
The Writing on the Wall
The back room of The Book Nook Cafe hummed with its usual Wednesday night energy, the scent of coffee mixing with Chad’s junk food and energy drinks. The small space had become their sanctuary over the years, with its warm lighting, mismatched comfortable chairs, and walls lined with bookcases that had seen better days.
Helen noticed it first; their usual entertainment wasn’t bickering with each other. Chad and Daisy sat side by side, with neither of them shooting barbs at the other about sleep-inducing characters or juvenile stories. In fact, she would go so far as to say they seemed almost comfortable together.
“Oh, my,” Helen whispered to Ruth, her voice carrying the hushed tone of someone witnessing a rare natural phenomenon. “It would seem that hell has frozen over.”
Ruth nodded, adjusting her reading glasses as she observed the pair with the keen interest of a retired English teacher evaluating an unexpected plot twist. “They haven’t even arguedover proper pen placement on the table. And I had my entire ‘Shakespeare on conflict’ lecture ready to go.”
Liv leaned over, her bohemian scarf trailing dangerously close to her coffee cup. “He’s using the coffee coaster she gave him last week.”
The coaster in question, a ceramic disk with ‘Books Before Bros’ printed on it, had been Daisy’s pointed gift after Chad left ring marks on her manuscript pages during their last session.
Helen nodded, noting how Chad absently rotated the coaster between sips of his coffee. “The one he kept using as a Frisbee. I noticed. And she hasn’t reorganized his manuscript pages once, even though they’re clearly out of order.”
The group exchanged meaningful glances, decades of collective wisdom recognizing the shift in dynamic. Phil raised his eyebrows at Bernie, who gave a subtle nod to Mags. Something had changed between their group’s most contentious members, and no one was about to let it pass without comment.
“I suppose we should get started,” Mags said, tapping down a stack of pages before turning to Chad with a sly smile that suggested she was about to enjoy herself immensely. “Chad. Why don’t we start with you.”
Chad shifted in his seat, running a hand through his perpetually disheveled hair, a nervous gesture the group had come to recognize whenever he was genuinely concerned about their feedback. “Do we have to?”
Mags nodded. “We do. And my first reaction is, your pages are... how should I put this…different.”
“Different bad?” Chad shifted again, his usual cocky demeanor notably absent. He glanced briefly at Daisy, who seemed unusually interested in arranging her notebook at a precise ninety-degree angle to the table’s edge.
“No. Quite the contrary. Different wonderful.” Mags’s voice held genuine surprise.
“I have to agree,” Liv said, flipping through the pages. “I noticed a distinct lack of monsters chasing girls in bikinis. In fact, your female protagonist is wearing appropriate clothing for almost every scene. Even the shower scene involves a bathrobe.”
“Your female lead is actually quite complex,” Helen noted, scanning the pages. “I’m speaking here about the human one, but I would also like to note that I found the ghostly one equally interesting. Your human lead, the ghost’s sister, seems to be very organized, but with this underlying sense of adventure she’s afraid to embrace. And the way she plans everything down to the minute, but secretly wishes she could be more spontaneous...”
The group watched as Daisy’s cheeks took on a subtle pink tinge, her fingers fidgeting nervously with her pen cap.
“You guys wanted character development,” Chad said, his tone aiming for casual but landing closer to defensive. “I just did what you all told me to do.”
“I think you’ve done a wonderful job with her,” Ruth said, her gentle smile belying the mischief in her eyes. “She feels quite real now. Almost like someone we might know.”
“Mmhmm.” Mag’s eyes twinkled with knowing delight. “And does this well-developed character also color-code her grocery list?”
“Only the vegetables,” Chad said before catching himself. His eyes widened slightly as he realized his mistake. “Wait.”
“And what about this scene,” Phil said as he pointed to a page, “where she organizes the hero’s closet while lecturing him about proper sock storage? It’s a funny scene, but do people actually do that?”
“Some do,” Chad muttered, carefully avoiding Daisy’s eyes, which had widened to an almost comical degree.
“I noticed this obsession she has with the color purple,” Ruth added innocently, though nothing about her sly expressionsuggested actual innocence. “It’s quite endearing. Would you care to elaborate?”
Chad shook his head. “Nope. No elaboration. It’s just one of her quirks, you know.”
“That your male lead finds charming,” Bernie noted, “but you mention here that he would never tell her in a million years.”
“I forgot about that part,” Chad said, looking down at his manuscript with dawning horror, as if seeing his own words for the first time.
