Chapter 17
17
Dear Violet Vaughan,
Thanks a lot for your email. I’m delighted that you enjoyed Alien Hearts. More than that, I’m extremely grateful that you sent me my very first piece of fan mail. Let me assure you it will be duly printed out and framed. *smiley face* Really, I’m thrilled that my work made you cry and realise I have possibly the only job in the world where saying that is acceptable. After years of rejections, I still can’t get used to people in the industry saying I’ve done a good job.
However, I am surprised your friend Lenny gave you a copy to read and revealed my gender identity which is currently Top Secret – I’m aware that makes me sound like the biggest idiot. I’m just concerned readers may not take the book seriously if they know I’m a man – although my agent tries to reassure me that I don’t need to worry about that.
As you wish, I won’t mention that you’ve emailed to Lenny – or to the agency. I agree, from what I know of him, that he was probably just being overenthusiastic and I wouldn’t want him to get into trouble either.
Oh, by the way – your photo looks familiar. Have we met before?
Thanks again.
Yours truly,
Casey Wilde
Heart pounding, I lean back in the sofa. He responded quickly. On first reading it, an inexplicable wave of anxiety washes over me and my morning plateful of fruit remains untouched. But then I take a step back and tell myself I can deal with flirting. I stop overthinking and light-heartedly email back. It doesn’t come naturally and I hope the tone of my words suits the filtered photo in my email signature. As for him thinking he recognised me, this is good. It means I must look more like other young women and don’t stand out any more.
Dear Casey,
I’m moved to tears at the prospect of my words framed and hanging in your house. Thank you. It’s truly an honour. *smiley face* But seriously, Alien Hearts is unique. Bold. Romantic. Gripping. Emotional.
May I tempt you with an invitation to meet up? I’m so excited about your writing and would love to discuss your methodology and how you researched. I know a lovely coffee house next door to a vintage bookshop. Perhaps I could meet you there one day after work.
Yours equally truly,
Violet Vaughan
I hug the laptop to my chest, as if it’s a best friend at high school who’s just shared a juicy secret. This is fun. I get up to take a shower. Will he bother to reply? I’m almost in my bedroom when an email landing in my inbox pings. I hurry back to the sofa.
Dear Violet,
That would be great. Meeting a fan will be good practice for when I undoubtedly become a household name. (I hope you realise I jest!) Jokes aside, I appreciate your kind words. But I drink more than enough coffee during the day – how about cocktails?
Yours,
Casey
Of course. The suggestion of a café next to a bookshop is too like the old me. I don’t want to appear ignorant and think hard of a cocktail bar I can suggest. They aren’t the kind of places I visit often, but one comes to mind. Months ago I went with Farah. We’d been chatting about the fact that she didn’t drink and I didn’t much either, so we found a place called The Olive Bar where the mocktail menu was wide-ranging, including a lavender spritzer and virgin ginger mimosa.
Dear Casey,
Do you know The Olive Bar in Covent Garden? I’ll remember to bring my autograph book!
Violet
I smile.
Dear Vi,
May I call you that? I feel we are friends now, since I made you cry and you’re aware of my gender dilemma!
That sounds perfect. I know it’s the weekend, but dare I hope that you are free tonight? Eight o’clock? I’ll even wear my new leopard-print shirt.
Yours as ever.
Casey
My hands are clammy. Can I really do this? Faceless exchanges online are one thing, but what about meeting him in the flesh?
But Bella would tell me to go for it. She’s right. I’m an editor. Casey’s a writer. We’ll have lots to talk about. It’ll be all right. And besides, more than anything, I’m doing this for Felicity and Thoth.
I press send on my reply to confirm. What should I wear? I wish I was as small as Bella. She has such exquisite clothes that literally hang on her. Luckily she gets home early and we go shopping. Eventually I find a bright green dress. Normally that colour would complement my purple glasses, but after a week of getting used to contacts, I hardly wear them now. It’s cinched in at the waist – not a body part that’s been in my vocabulary much before. I stand in front of the full-length mirror as if I’m undergoing some test. The dress is low cut at the front but not too revealing. I buy a bright red lipstick. Bella has a pair of high nude shoes that she lends me.
I’m beyond grateful for her help. She does my nails, make-up and hair. I promise her a trip to the cinema next week, my treat.
At seven thirty, I look down at myself. I take a few selfies for Instagram and carefully choose the best filter. As soon as it’s shared, the likes come in. It’s helped that I’ve researched the best hashtags and add on #weekendvibes.
I scroll back through the few photos already uploaded on my account. Before heading out to the Underground, I delete all the shots of the old me.