Page 102 of Fighting Words

I smile at her. “Appreciate it.”

“Sure thing.”

“You’re so polite,” Nate says, teasing me. He knows I will not say anything to him in a jam-packed elevator, but it’s part of the bit.

Even on the elevator, our call doesn’t drop, but I go silent as we ascend toward the fourteenth floor, a place I’ll only be calling home for a few more days. Joy confirmed with me earlier this week that HR officially approved my request to work remotely.

“I still can’t believe you’re going to England,” she said during our meeting.

I smiled sheepishly, a little embarrassed. “Do you think it’s silly?”

Her eyebrows rose. “Silly?” She sat up, perfecting her posture, and then laid her hands carefully on her desk. “On the record, your personal life is none of my business. You don’t need to worry how it will affect our professional relationship.” Then she smiled and leaned in, dropping her manager mask. “Now between me and you, if I weren’t happily married with three children under three and ifthat manwere in any way interested in shacking up with me? Summer, I’d be on a red-eye tonight.”

I laughed. “It just seems kind of crazy. Doesn’t it seem crazy?”

She tilted her head, studying me with a gentle expression. “Is it? I moved here from Arizona for Bob when we were dating. People move for their partners all the time.”

Shocking as it might seem, Emma has been reassuring me as well. We’ve seen each other a lot over the last few weeks, and not just at family dinners. We’ve met for coffee and to get our nails done. I brought her lunch at her practice the other day just because I had a free hour. She’s even chatted with Nate via FaceTime a few times, and she’s slowly but surely warmed up to the idea of me going to England, so much so that she’s blocked off a week of her schedule in late summer. She and Lincoln and the kids are going to come visit Sedbergh during the high season.

“Okay. I’m walking to my desk now, Ireallyhave to go,” I tell Nate.

“Do you, though?”

I laugh. “Nate.Yes. Of course I do.”

It’s so hard to say goodbye to him in the mornings. Sometimes we just don’t. Occasionally, we’ll stay on the phone until my AirPods die. He’ll listen as I work and I’ll listen as he writes at the coffee shop. He’s even taken me into Martin’s shop once and let me say hello.

“I don’t think youreallyhave to go,” Nate protests. “Can’t you explain you’re on the phone with me? Surely they’ll understand.”

“You’re not my author anymore,” I say, trying to be admonishing. “You haven’t been for two months. So no, I can’t pull that excuse.”

“Has it already been two months?”

“You know it has,” I say drolly.

Over two months, actually. 67 days of him writing from sun up to sun down in an effort to churn out 3,000 words a day. He only takes breaks to chop wood or go into town for groceries and our phone calls. I mailed him a care package a few weeks ago, filled to the brim with nothing but chocolate bars to get him through a particularly rough few days of writing.

“I’m almost done, Summer,” he tells me now.

A trickle of excitement sweeps through me.

“And then…”

“And then…” he repeats like it’s a line from a love poem.

Our motto has stuck because of all the possibilities it brings. Nate and I know what we want for our future. We’ve discussed it like two lovesick teenagers planning to run away together, except instead of stealing off to Vegas with the last hundred dollars we have left to our names, we want to organize the cottage’s guest bedroom and turn it into an office we can share. We want to plant a garden in late spring and help Alice with the summer crowd. We want to explore more of Kendal and the surrounding towns, and most of all, we want to tumble into his bed and stay there for days. It makes me laugh to think back to Nate putting that on our fictitious to-do list.

“Tell me you didn’t write that down.” I grinned.

“Yes, it says here, ‘Seduce Summer.’”

I still haven’t managed to hang up with Nate as I round the corner toward my cubicle and come to a screeching halt when I see a thick manuscript sitting on my desk.Really?Ugh.I already have three books I’m working on. Joy is usually so good about giving me a heads-up before she—

The thought dies a swift death once I see the title printed on the first page.

A Cosmic Penance – First Draft

My free hand reaches up to cover my mouth as I gasp.It can’t be.Last we talked about it, Nate said he was still a week from being done. He confirmed it on the phone just yesterday.

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