Page 57 of Where the Little Birds Are (Little Bird Duet 2)

“I…” I lick my lips, struggling to admit the truth. I don’t want to tell her that I wrote it out of pettiness and assumptions that might not even be true. The pictures surfacing of Corbin with different women make it hard to deny though. He never reached out, showed up, or even tried.

He moved on.

And I felt … cheated.

Yet, I blamed myself. I always do that and hate myself for putting so much pressure on my shoulders to be what everyone wants. The truth is, I’m not what Corbin Callum wants. The girls in those pictures are skinner, prettier, and probably have a lot more money and time to offer him. They’re not in high school. They’re probably from his new world—actresses.

“…will do very well. You should be proud of yourself, Kinley. I am. In fact, I sent the manuscript to Kim at Rave as soon as I finished it and told her waiting another three months before reading it was too long.”

Speechless, I just swallow the bitterness of Corbin and the girls and absorb the pride in Jamie’s eyes. It’s the type of pride I need to confirm that this is exactly what I worked for. And it’s … overwhelming in the best way.

Then reality hits me and I slide forward in a new anticipation that fills the room. “Did she reply? Is she going to read it sooner? Do you think they’ll pick it up now—”

Jamie laughs and waves me down. “She read the first few chapters and told me she was drawn in from page one. The first version was good, Kinley, but not even I knew what you were capable of until I read this one. Through Shattered Glass is going to be a huge hit.”

“So…?” I grip my hands together in my lap, waiting for her to tell me something positive.

She grins. “Kim can’t officially confirm that Rave will pick it up, but she’s confident that they will once a few others read it. As soon as I know, I’ll reach out to you.”

My heart is racing so fast that I think it might propel out of my chest. “You really think it’ll be picked up?”

Leaning back, she rests her hands on her desk and levels with me. “When have I ever told you something I didn’t mean? This book is one of the best ones I’ve read in a long time because of the raw emotion you put into it. For somebody so young, you have a talent that amazes me.”

Did she just … compliment me?

Jamie Little complimented me.

A huge smile stretches across my face until it physically hurts. But I don’t care. Because Jamie freaking Little just told me that my talent amazes her—that my book is the best she’s read.

“We can take this far,” she continues, reaching for a pen and writing something down on the notepad beside her. “There’s no doubt in my mind we can secure audio and foreign deals through Rave when the time comes. And even better, if the sales are as good as I think, we can look into film rights as well.”

“Fi…” I blink. Then blink again.

In fact, I’m tempted to pinch my arm because there’s no way I’m sitting here in her office discussing any of this. It’s too good to be true. Being picked up by a publisher is one thing, but everything else? A movie deal?

It’s…

She sets her pen down. “This type of book raises the kind of questions that readers love talking about. The love story you created is rough around the edges and real, and you’ll get a vast array of readers.”

My lips part, then close, then open again. There’s a lot I want to say but can’t verbalize. Do I want something so personal on blast? I knew it would be if it was picked up, but the potential of it being brought to life is a dynamic I never in my wildest dreams could imagine.

“Are you sure it’ll do well?” I hate the doubt in my words, but at this point that doubt is all that glues me together. “I mean, it could flop. People don’t like infidelity, and—”

“But they like drama and real love.”

That shuts me up.

“And Beck and Ryker?” She smiles at me, a genuine, honest-to-God smile. “They share the purest love I’ve ever seen. I don’t know how you encompassed something so beautiful at your age, but I’m glad you did.”

Thankfully, before I can even try formulating a response, somebody knocks on the door before it cracks open.

“I’ve got Kinley’s hot chocolate, ma’—Ms. Little,” Parker announces, walking in with a large Styrofoam cup in his hands.

The humor on Jamie’s face as he passes me the warm cup is lost on me. Parker just smiles at me, nods at Jamie, before walking out and closing the door behind him.

I eye the cup. “I would have thought offices have those smaller cups you can buy in bulk for cheap.” Taking a sip of the rich chocolate, I lick my lips and sit back. “Why are you making that face?”

Jamie’s lips waver. “We don’t have hot chocolate here.”

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