Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Natalie and Harper worked on Lionel’s book during every available moment over the next week.
Early, before Natalie opened the shop for business. During the day, whenever Jules didn’t have class and could cover the sales floor. And late, after the store was closed.
Once, they even worked on it long after dark when Liam, busy in the lab, and Stone, at a meeting, wouldn’t miss them.
The only thing Natalie could say about the agony of this book deadline was that at least they were making progress.
Every chapter done was a small victory. Every time Harper ticked off another task on the pre-submission checklist Natalie got another jolt of adrenaline.
That feeling made it seem like all the hours, the exhaustion, the stress, the endless repetition of going over the same words over and over again, was all worth it.
But all in all, deadline-mode, as Harper called it, was hell interspersed with brief moments of drug-like highs.
And it definitely wasn’t pretty.
Harper’s hair had been in a ponytail and she’d been wearing the same oversized sweatshirt for most of this week. Natalie couldn’t criticize. She was going on her third day without showering.
They were both sucking down caffeine like it was their life’s blood. When someone or another didn’t bring them food, they made do with whatever snacks were the quickest to grab.
And even though Natalie fell into bed every night so weary she could barely climb onto the mattress, she still woke in the middle of the night with her mind racing.
Natalie leaned back in the kitchen chair and stretched her muscles. Then tried to stretch out the ache in her wrists.
“How could sitting all day be this exhausting?” she asked.
Harper visibly startled, her head whipping up at Natalie’s words.
Natalie cringed. “Sorry. You were concentrating and I disturbed you to complain. God, I suck at this. I’ll keep my mouth shut from now on. I promise.”
“No. Don’t worry about it.” Harper shook her head and stretched. “I need to drink some water and stand up for a bit. My legs are going numb.”
“I also have to apologize to you in general.” Natalie shook her head. “I never appreciated how hard you work. How difficult this job is. Physically. Mentally. ”
Harper let out a short laugh. “Don’t worry. No one does.”
“I owe you so much for doing this with me. I couldn’t have done it without you. And I can’t even count how many hours you sacrificed. I appreciate it. So much.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s been fun.”
“Fun?” Natalie choked.
This was definitely not fun. Not for Natalie, who realized life was too short to spend this many hours checking this book’s appendix.
Not even for Gabe and Millie who had all the time in the world. The two ghost lovebirds had abandoned the project days ago in favor of watching the new streaming channels Harper had made the error of logging them into before the book was done rather than after.
“Okay. Maybe fun isn’t the word. How about challenging?”
“Better.” Natalie nodded.
Harper grinned. “Just wait until you see it in print. And even better, for sale and in readers’ hands. It’ll all be worth it. You’ll see.”
“All I see right now is bibliographical citations.” She slumped against the table, the page numbers of the sources beginning to swim before her eyes.
“There’s a reason I write fiction, and romance.
It’s a hell of a lot more fun than this.
” Harper said. “I mean the historical research was interesting, but this other stuff. The citing of sources and formatting endnotes and footnotes… I guess we have to give Lionel a pass, because this stuff is enough to make anyone a cranky son of a bitch.”
“No kidding.”
“But you want good news?” Harper asked.
“Please,” Natalie answered emphatically.
“I think we’re done.”
That had her sitting up straighter than she had in the past week. “What do you mean?”
“I think that’s it. I checked the back matter over twice.
I read through the chapters again and didn’t find anything wrong.
And honestly, at this point we’re both so familiar with the words we wouldn’t be able to see any mistakes anyway.
We’re done. I think it’s time to email this thing to the publisher. ”
Natalie’s eyes widened. “It would be like…” She did a quick calculation. “Two days early.”
“It would be.” Harper grinned. “I read that ninety percent of authors submit late to their publishers. Allen Turning is going to think you’re a goddess for submitting early.”
Harper’s joy and her smile were contagious. That combined with the sheer relief of being done with this book had Natalie’s mood soaring.
“Can we really send it. Like now?” she asked, afraid it might all be a horrible mistake.
“I don’t see why not.” Harper shrugged and came to stand behind Natalie’s chair. “Open up your email. Let’s send this baby.”
Shaking now, Natalie opened the browser, found the latest email from Allen and hit reply. “Just attach the Word document?”
“Yes.”
“What do I write? Do I need like a cover letter?”
“No. You can be casual. Something saying that the file is attached. And he should let you know if he has any problems accessing it.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Natalie glanced up at Harper. “I’m nervous.”
“I know. I still feel that way when I send something off even after all the books I’ve submitted. But listen, once you hit that send button, we can celebrate.”
“I can take a shower. And finally watch that new series that dropped on Netflix,” Natalie said wistfully.
“And take care of the To Do list of everything else you ignored while we’ve been busy on the book. There’s no more reason to ignore it all now,” Harper reminded.
Natalie slumped again, remembering the income tax stuff she had to prepare for her accountant for her upcoming annual appointment. And the fact she hadn’t done laundry in like two weeks.
With a groan, Natalie glanced up at Harper. “Now I’m depressed.”
“Welcome to life as a writer, Nat. It’s not all champagne and chocolate bonbons like people think.”
Refusing to feel defeated after the huge accomplishment they’d just completed without Lionel’s help, Natalie jumped up. “I don’t have bonbons but champagne I have. You up for a glass?”
Harper glanced at the screen of her cell phone. “What time is it?”
“Too early to drink?” Natalie asked.
Harper laughed. “Never. I was just wondering if it was so early we needed to add some sort of juice to our champagne so we could call it a mimosa. But hell, it’s almost noon. Pop that bottle. I’ll get the glasses.”
Natalie smiled. This part of publishing she liked.
With Jules still handling the store, the book done and in the editor’s inbox, and a glass and a half in her stomach without the benefit of lunch, Natalie was feeling pretty good. A little sleepy. But in general all around relaxed and happy.
“You know, now the book is done, we’re going to have to turn our attention to the Mudville article,” Harper reminded her.
Natalie frowned. “Hush up, you. You’re harshing my mellow.”
Harper laughed. “Sorry. But the end of one project just means the beginning of the next.”
Natalie sagged back against the chair. “Can’t we just feed all the information into like Chat-GBT and let AI write the article?”
Harper narrowed her eyes. “Bite your tongue, woman. AI might take over all our jobs in the future, mine as a writer especially, but I refuse to use it now. Human writing only. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry.”
“So, just in case Lionel doesn’t return we should start sorting through all those papers you found, compare the information in there with Lionel’s research, make a list of inaccuracies and then write that Mudville article.
” Harper ticking off that exhausting list of tasks was more than Natalie could take.
“Nuh, uh. Nope.” Natalie shook her head. “We can talk about the article tomorrow. I demand you give me at least the rest of today off from thinking. I mean don’t we deserve it? We accomplished an amazing feat. We finished Lionel’s book and emailed it off to the publisher, all without him.”
“You did what!” Lionel roared.
The professor stood just inside the apartment’s back door glaring at her through narrowed eyes.
Liam flung the back door open, sending the old wooden door swinging through the ghost.
“Lionel’s back. The county coroner just dropped him off,” Liam announced, a bit breathless like he’d sprinted over from the lab to deliver the news.
Natalie drew in a breath, her gaze shooting from Lionel, so angry he honestly looked a little scary, to Liam standing just next to him.
“Thanks, babe. But I know.” Natalie tipped her head toward where the ghost was huffing and puffing even though, technically, she didn’t think ghosts could actually breathe.
Harper’s eyes widened. “Lionel’s here?”
Natalie nodded. “Mm-hm. And he doesn’t look happy.”