Page 87 of The Midnight Book Club
“He would and look—there he is,” she said smugly, pointing to the page in front of them, “saying just that.”
“That’s not Tolstoy’s Vronsky.”
“No, you’re right.He’s changed a lot since Anna died.”
Oliver shook his head and opened his mouth to argue.
“You can disagree with me,” she continued, “but it’s staying put because I know I’m right.”
“How?How do youknow?”he challenged her with a grin.
She answered with one of her own as she said, “Because he told me so himself.”
Oliver rolled his eyes, all too familiar now with her insistence that her characters spoke to her, never guessing that her fib about her ‘process’ was closer to the truth than she’d let anyone else get.Aurelia enjoyed those moments of being honest with him, even enjoyed how much it annoyed him.It was their own private ‘joke.’
“Right,” he sighed, a hint of surrender in his voice.
“Exactly.In it stays.”
She turned the page before he could press the point.He slid the manuscript away from her and began flipping through to his next edit.As she watched his fingers moving over her words, searching out his next attack, the mantel clock behind them began striking the hour.Aurelia turned idly to the clock, saw the time, then turned back to Oliver as he set the pages down.She was about to argue on principle before even hearing what he was going to suggest, when she jerked her head back to the clock again.Could it really be ten o’clock?They might have another hour of work ahead of them, and she’d missed her chance for a nap.
“You okay?”Oliver asked.
“Yes—yeah.”
“Do you want a break?We could walk around the square, stretch our legs,” he suggested, nodding to the door.
“No, I’m alright.Unless you need a break?”
“I’m fine.Here—this line here,” he said, diving right back into his notes.
She tried to focus on his words, but her brain kept dragging her back to thoughts of the characters, of wanting to show Vronsky what they’d been working on.Though, at the same time, she was enjoying her time with Oliver and had to admit she didn’t mind being secreted away with him in the shop.Just the two of them… Side by side… Talking so passionately about the words she’d written…
“What do you think?”he asked.
“Um, I think that’s probably fine,” she answered dreamily, her voice far away.
“Seriously?I thought you were going to fight me tooth and nail on that.”
She stared down at the paper, willing herself to focus.
“Wait, no… No!That doesn’t work at all,” she said shaking her head emphatically.
“That’s what I thought you’d say.You know, this would be much easier if you’d just zone out and let me have at the book on my own.”
She shot him a death glare and he laughed before starting to talk through his next edit.
Again, she lost the thread of it as she wondered how he could stay out so late.Surely he wasn’t dating anyone new?Wouldn’t a girlfriend mind him being away for so many hours a day?Of course, he was only here working—they were just editing her book together.That was his job, after all.They’d become friends too, after all these months, but that was it.Thanks to her tears—maybe even thanks to her stubbornness with his edits.Then there were her midnight visits with fictional characters that, if he ever guessed they were more than a shared joke, would surely send him running.
“I’m losing you.Let’s call it a night,” Oliver said, patting her on the shoulder as he stood and gathered his things.
“What?Why?”
She’d been caught up in her thoughts again and had no idea what had happened.
“You’re drifting off.I know it’s late.”
“No, it’s fine!I’m used to late nights.Really,” she said as she got to her feet.
