Page 118 of Some Like It Scot
Mrs. Lennox? Seemed unlikely with only a few hours before the ball.
Which reminded me of why I’d shown up a little early to the lunch date—I needed to cut it short because all guests were encouraged to be ready for promotional photographs an hour before the ball began. I looked down at the clock on my phone.
Which meant a half hour for lunch, at most, and then I’d need to ride my bike back to Craighill to get a shower. I grinned as I thought about Graeme seeing me in that ball gown. I’d never had a Cinderella moment, but to be honest, I related the most to that particular princess because of her losing her shoe.
Belle was way too clever to be relatable.
Aurora too elegant.
But a poor girl who kept soot on her face, occasionally talked to animals, and had a tendency to lose footwear? I could see myself in her.
A half hour was enough time for some much-needed conversation with Graeme though.
And maybe a snuggle with Lachlan and Wedge? Okay, Wedge snuggled. Lachlan wrestled.
My phone buzzed in my hand and an unfamiliar and local number popped up.
Katie, it’s Calum. Your book is brilliant. You are one of the most natural storytellers I’ve ever read.
I stared at the phone for a good fifteen seconds, rereading the text. Seriously? He thought my book was “brilliant.”
Me:Are you serious?
Calum:I know it’s hard to believe with my ever-ready wit, but I am very serious. And I want your permission to share the book with my editor.
It took about twenty seconds to comprehend that one. I’d looked up Calum—or his pseudonym, C.J. Cunningham—and he was published by one of the top publishing houses in the world. And he thought my book worth a look by them?
Calum:It’s a great opportunity. Even if he doesn’t take it, which I highly doubt, he’ll give great feedback.
And opportunities like this never came for new authors. Ever. Not that I was completely new, but definitely new to fiction.
Calum:Katie, it’s a braw story.
The compliment alone had me a little lightheaded.
Me:I don’t want to miss the opportunity, Calum. And if you think it’s really worth a look???
Calum:I do! I’ll send it right now to prove my point.
Me:Are you serious?
Calum:I don’t joke about excellent writing, Katie. That’s just rude.
I chuckled, half because of his humor and the other half out of sheer disbelief.
Me:Thank you so much. I’m a little astonished.
Calum:Thank you for allowing me to read it. I see excellent possibilities here and will let you know what I hear. Is there another phone number or email address I could use to contact you after you leave Scotland? (Assuming you’re going to leave?)
I had to leave. I had a job to do.
Me:Was that a threat, premonition, or wish?
Calum:I can see why Graeme likes you. Quick wit is a winning feature.
Calum:But not a threat. I only make those in fiction. But as for the latter two? Perhaps. You do fit in rather well with our family, and it would be nice to have another writer around. No one else understands the plight of imaginary friends.
I grinned, touched and amused by his words. The idea of leaving kept getting harder. But I... I didn’t want to give up traveling. Graeme had a hard enough time just talking about showing his work abroad, so how on earth would he handle a girlfriend who spent a large portion of her time as a nomad?
