Chapter 18
ISABELLA
Iwalk inside the conference room after Slade hangs up.
Everyone is waiting on me so my cheeks heat up.
“Sorry, I’m a little late.” I sit down next to my agent.
Miranda and Matthew, my editors, Coraline, my agent, and Bentley are here in the meeting today.
My editors haven’t finished editing the manuscript from what I know. They have made a few edits here and there but aren’t done.
Bentley has finished reading the manuscript and he told me he wanted to know a few things about the story before I went home for the day.
Slade said that Niko will be waiting for me downstairs whenever the meeting is over since he doesn’t want me to have any more issues getting to and from work.
Thankfully, Slade has been sleeping with me almost every day since I sometimes get nightmares.
I haven’t told him the whole story about the car crash or said how that hooded guy with the blue eyes may be connected to that night because I don’t want to rehash it.
I want to pretend for a little bit that he isn’t out to get me and I still have time left to enjoy my life and live.
“Where did you get the inspiration for your book?” Bentley asks, his facial expression revealing nothing.
He doesn’t look mad, just curious.
“Oh, mostly dreams I have or random thoughts.” I shrug, glancing around the table at their faces. “Why? Did I do something wrong?” Anxiety crawls up my throat as I start to worry if I accidentally might have stolen another writer’s idea or story.
“No, no,” Coraline says. “We were just curious because your scenes and some of the chapters remind me of what’s been happening in the news lately. I mean they are so graphic and specific so we were only wondering how you came up with it all.”
“Mostly dreams. I got help from an outside source as well with some ideas that I was stuck on but I don’t watch the news.”
“You should. It’s a coincidence that you’re basically writing what’s happening in New York,” Miranda explains. “I was thinking about it the other day when editing a scene and I rewatched the news then spoke with Bentley and Coraline about it and they saw the similarities too.”
I furrow my eyebrows and try to think.
Watching the news always makes me feel a little anxious so I try to not pay attention much to what’s happening on the TV and instead just focus on what’s happening with myself.
“I’ll have to check it out because I don’t know anything about that.”
“That’s what I told them. Isabella’s just a genius.” Bentley smiles at me, looking like a proud father.
I know he is proud.
He always tells me that I’m his favorite in the building. I know he sometimes just says that to make me feel better about myself and my writing.
We talk more about the editing and the cover and how marketing is going. They all tell me I’m doing a good job and to keep it up.
Miranda and Matthew leave and it’s just Bentley and my agent.
“I want to give you a break before you start writing the next book. But I’m curious if you have any ideas for what’s next?”
I have thought about it.
I’ve enjoyed writing this book a lot and I know I’m getting really good feedback so I want to keep writing similar stories to what I’m writing right now.
“Yea, I was actually thinking about extending this world I’m currently writing.
Everyone is loving it and romance seems to be popular right now,” I explain with a shy smile on my face, wondering what they will think about me continuing this book.
“I think I could make this book into a series. Leave the first one on a cliffhanger and add a book or two. Readers love interconnected standalones or just series in general.”
Bentley smiles at me and glances at Coraline.
“And this is why I will continue to praise her.” Coraline smiles at me too, looking insanely proud.
“Let’s fucking do it. Take a breather after editing and let the marketing team worry about getting the book out there and attention.
You can relax while we plan some signings for you, and you start working on the next book whenever you feel the inspiration. ”
Bentley doesn’t know this and I won’t tell him until I’ve started writing but I already have the whole story outlined and plotted.
I’m almost ready to start writing it but I do want to take a break and maybe read a little bit since. I don’t really like reading while writing because then I’ll sometimes get the worlds or plots mixed up.
Plus, I really need to catch up on my Tbr.
We finish up the meeting and I tell everyone to get home safe before leaving. When I’m downstairs I see the car that Slade told me Niko was going to wait for me in.
“Miss Rossi,” Niko says, opening the door for me as I get in.
I thank him and he rounds the car, getting in the drivers side and then pulling out onto the road.
The drive is pretty quick and quiet.
Niko and I don’t talk much.
Rides are silent but he seems nice. Niko is basically Slade’s assistant or personal driver.
I’m not really sure but it’s cool that he has someone like Niko to help him out.
I tried talking to him the other day but he barely responded and I wonder if it’s because he doesn’t understand or speak English that well.
He drives to the underground garage of the building while I go to my messages with Slade. I text him letting him know I just got home and ask him when he’ll be home.
Things between us are good.
We keep getting closer and my feelings for him grow everyday.
He is so easily able to make me happy and smile.
I can only hope I’m able to do the same for him.
Niko parks the car and then opens my door. “Miss Rossi.” He smiles and I take his hand as he helps me out of the car.
“When do you think Slade will be home?” I ask, impatiently.
“I’m not sure, Miss. He had a few things to get to today,” Niko says in a heavy Russian accent, struggling to say certain words.
“Okay. Thank you again for the ride. I always appreciate it.”
“Konechno,” he says, smiling at me. “Do you need me to escort you?”
I shake my head. “No, Niko. I’m good, thanks.”
We say our goodbyes and I leave to go up to the apartment.
When I walk in, it’s empty, not that I’m surprised.
Whenever the apartment is empty, I try not to let it get to me since I’m so used to Slade being home now compared to before.
He is usually cooking while talking on the phone, smiling and winking at me when I walk in.
I go to my room and put my things away before changing into more comfortable clothes—shorts and a T-shirt.
I walk out of my room as my stomach growls, begging for food.
I heat up the alfredo that Slade told me he made.
He already knows me so well even though we’ve only known each other for around two months.
Time passes by so fast whenever I’m with him and I always want to beg for more.
I have no clue what we are doing and we’ve never talked about it. I want to because not talking about it is killing me.
So I won’t think about it, I turn the TV on and go to the news channel in order to watch what my team was telling me.
I’m curious how similar my book is to what’s happening in the news.
Are they really that similar?