Page 65 of A Love Letter to Whiskey
He nodded, a smile playing at his lips as he turned to face me again. “Indeed. Randy is my father.”
“Oh.” That’s all I said. I wasn’t really sure how to respond to that.
River chuckled. “Yeah, I guess it’s kind of a family business. I’ve been in the literary world since I was in the womb, practically.” He smiled that wide, genuine smile again and I relaxed a bit.
“That’s neat, actually. Are you… what’s your position here, if you don’t mind me asking.”
He smiled. “Not at all. I’m an agent right now, but on my way to vice president if I have anything to do with it.”
“Impressive,” I said, taking the first sip of my coffee. I wasn’t sure where any of the creamer or anything else was and it was scalding hot, so I flinched, but tried to hide it.
River laughed, grabbing his own coffee and guiding me to a cabinet that held what I was looking for. “Here,” he said, handing me a few creamers and packets of sugar. “Fix your coffee up and take a few minutes to get settled at your desk. Your login info should be on a sticky note on the keyboard and you can change your password then. Get your email set up and I’ll be over to touch base in fifteen or so, okay?”
“Sounds great.”
He turned, but paused. “And B?”
“Yeah?” I asked, mid-tear on the first sugar packet.
River eyed me curiously, in a way that reminded me way too much of the first time Jamie had looked at me. “Welcome to Rye Publishing.”
• • •
I moaned out loud as I slipped off my first high heel and let it fall to the floor just inside my apartment. Stretching my toes, I pulled the bobby pins holding my hair up before tugging the other heel off and letting myself fully sigh with relief.
It had been a long, hard first day — but an amazing one, too. I smiled as I picked up my shoes and padded into my bedroom, tossing them to the bottom of my closet before turning and heading straight for my freshly stocked fridge. There was a cold slice of pizza and chilled beer in there with my name on it.
My head was still spinning with all the information I’d had shoved at me that day as I took the first bite and popped my beer open. I looked out the large window on the far side of my small studio apartment, loving the floor-to-ceiling view of Market Square. It was the main reason I decided to live here, even though it was more expensive than every other place I looked at. It was worth it to me, to spend a little more but get a view like that. Plus, it had a bathtub, and that was a necessity.
I think there are some times in life, seemingly insignificant snapshots of time, where a sizable shift takes place. Standing barefoot in my kitchen overlooking downtown Pittsburgh while I ate cold pizza and chased it with cheap beer was one of those times for me. This was it — I was on my own, for the first time in my life, and I was doing it. No mom, no roommate, no boyfriend — just me — and I was going to show the publishing world who I was in that summer I had their attention if it was the last thing I did.
When I finished my pizza, I texted my mom quickly before calling Jamie. My fingers still shook slightly when I called him, or in the few seconds it took me to answer his call, instead. After three years of ignoring him, I was finally at the point where I felt like we could be good for each other — even if just in the friendly way. I’d missed him, missed our conversations, and if I got to have his hands on me occasionally, too? It was an all-around win.
“I just rode the best wave,” he answered, breath heavy in the receiver. “You should have been here. For South Florida, it was like surfing gold.”
“Rub it in,” I teased.
“Okay. Did I mention I’m not wearing a shirt?”
I chuckled, tapping the speakerphone button before dropping my phone to the bed so I could undress. “You never did play fair, Jamie Shaw.”
“So you’ve told me.” I swear, I could feel his grin through the phone. “How was the first day?”
“Long, but amazing. My boss is young and really cool. He seems eager to have me start on projects, which eases my initial worry of being a paper-pusher all summer.”
“Yeah right. Like they’d stuff you behind some desk. You’ll probably be opening another office in NYC by next week.”
I smiled, both at the image he’d painted and the faith he always had in me. “How was your day?”
