Chapter Thirty-Two Savannah
| Thirty-Two |
Savannah
Savannah and Bennett had ordered her office furniture yesterday. It ended up being a lot more high-end than what she had originally chosen, but he had insisted on the Eames Executive desk and matching chair.
“It’s too much money,” she said when Bennett pointed it out to her. The chair alone was over five thousand dollars.
He’d laughed. “Um, if you haven’t noticed, we’re rich. You’re going to have to get used to it, my little country bumpkin.”
She stiffened. “I’m not some hick.”
“Kidding. Don’t worry about money. It’s not an issue.”
She’d nodded, trying to dismiss the feeling that he was being condescending.
It wasn’t like she’d grown up with nothing.
But she didn’t have the careless disregard for the cost of things that he did.
She also had no idea how much money he made.
She could guess that Promise Me Never staying on the list as long as it had must have made him well into seven figures, and that was only one book.
Not to mention the money from the movie.
She ordered the desk, the chair, and a credenza.
She couldn’t wait to have everything set up.
It was going to look gorgeous in the loft, but they would have to wait three to four months for them to arrive.
If he said money wasn’t an issue, then so be it.
She didn’t have access to any of his accounts yet, though he’d promised to add her. In the meantime, he’d given her a credit card to use. But she hated not having her own money. She told him she wanted to find a job, and they’d had their first fight.
“Make up your mind. Are you a writer or not?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m giving you a beautiful office and the gift of time.
And you want to go, what, do some mindless job around here?
It’s absurd. A real writer would take the opportunity and get to work.
It kind of feels like you don’t appreciate everything I’m doing for you.
” His hands were balled into fists, and his face was red. Why was he getting so angry?
“Of course I do! I just feel bad not having my own money.”
He scoffed. “Use the credit card. Who needs cash these days? Unless you want me to give you an allowance, like a little girl?”
She felt tears prickling her eyes, humiliation and anger vying for dominance. “How can you talk to me like that?”
His expression softened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just trying to get you to take your writing seriously.”
She’d felt so confused then. But maybe he was right. She did need to stop screwing around and get this book finished.
“Savannah, did you hear me?”
“Sorry, my mind drifted. What?”
“We can always buy some temporary furniture so you can start using your office sooner,” he’d said.
Savannah had shaken her head. “No, that’s a waste. It’s okay. I can take my laptop to a coffee shop. It’ll be fine.” But she did want Poppy’s stuff out of there. “We can get started with the painting and shelving in the meantime.”
He’d nodded. “One step ahead of you, I’ve already arranged to have that done.”
This morning Bennett awakened her with a kiss.
Her eyes fluttered open. “Good morning.” She smiled at him.
“Good morning, beautiful. Come here.” He pulled her closer to him and kissed her again, deeply this time. She felt the stirrings of desire. They made love, and she held him tightly to her, marveling once again that he was hers.
“That was so nice,” she whispered. “I like when you wake me up before you go to your office.”
He smiled. “It’s the best part of my day.”
“Time for breakfast together?”
He shook his head. “No, love. Just coffee for me. Would you mind taking Finn to the park again? I’m hopelessly behind.”
“I was thinking of checking out the karate studio this morning.”
He frowned. “Is that really a good idea? You’re a bit old to be starting karate. Shouldn’t you be focusing on your writing?”
Why was he being so negative? Plenty of people took self-defense classes as adults. And she had already taken a few classes when she was in the city. She untangled herself from him and leaned up on one elbow, looking at him. “I’m younger than you are!”
He shook his head. “Yes, Savannah, but you’re not a kid. It’ll be embarrassing. But do what you want.”
“I’m not going to take a children’s class. I’ve already taken some self-defense classes, so I’m not a total beginner. And besides, it’s for research. And my protagonist—”
He sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I know. She’ s a martial arts expert. Does she also speak five languages? Honestly. It’s been done. A lot.”
“You’re saying it’s a cliché?”
He got up and stood by the bed, looking down at her, a derisive look on his face. “It’s certainly not original.”
“I just thought it would make her stronger.”
“Whatever. I’m running late now since you can’t take the dog. I’ve got to get a move on.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll do it.”
“What about your class?”
“You’re right. It’s stupid. I’ll take Finn. I can make it part of my daily routine. The exercise is good for me too.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I mean you use the rowing machine every night, so you don’t need the exercise. But I do.” She was still struggling to lose that extra ten pounds, even though she’d never admitted it to Bennett.
“I didn’t want to say anything, but you have been pretty sedentary. The exercise will be good for you.”
She took a deep breath, willing herself to keep her composure. She wouldn’t let him see how hurt she was by that remark. “Maybe you can read my revised chapters? I’d love to get your feedback.”
“Shit, I forgot. I promise, I’ll do it today. I’ll have notes for you tomorrow at the latest.”
She didn’t want to be a nag, but this was the third time she’d asked him. Hopefully he would keep his word. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” He went into the bathroom.
She heard the shower turn on. This was good.
A routine was exactly what she needed. She and Finn would go to the park, then she’d come home and grab her laptop and go to the coffee shop.
Tonight, she’d get home early enough to prepare a nice dinner for the two of them.
He’d see that she was doing things for him, and it would make him more amenable to helping her with her book. At least that was what she hoped.
When he was finished in the bathroom, she got up, showered, and dressed.
As she entered the kitchen, the aroma of coffee filled the air, and she poured herself a mug.
Finn was in his usual spot by the French doors, and Savannah crouched down and gave him a pat on the head.
He rolled over on his back and she laughed.
“I can take a hint.” She rubbed his belly and his tail began to wag. She wondered why Bennett didn’t bring him into his office while he worked; she certainly would if it were her. Maybe Finn was a distraction from his writing. She stood up.
“How about a walk, sweetie?”
Finn’s ears perked up at the word walk, and he sprang up.
She grabbed the dog coat that she’d ordered from the hook on the wall and put it on him.
Bennett had told her that Finn didn’t seem to mind the cold, but it wasn’t like the dog could talk!
Besides, she’d looked it up and according to the Internet a Great Dane had a thinner coat and should be protected from the cold.
She could tell by Bennett’s expression that he was embarrassed not to have known that, and he said he felt terrible.
When they arrived at the dog park, Savannah paid attention to everyone around her, trying to memorize every face in case there was a repeat of the note incident.
She and Finn went inside the fenced area, but she kept him on leash.
A few people nodded a hello as they passed, but no one was overly friendly.
Even though starting over in a new area was exciting it could be lonely, and she hoped to make a friend or two.
She was thinking about signing up for a class at the local community center as a way to meet people.
They finished and returned to the car. She breathed a sigh of relief that there was nothing on the windshield, even though she likely would have noticed had anyone approached the car.
She dropped Finn back home and grabbed her laptop.
As she was getting ready to leave, Felicia came in—or at least a woman Savannah assumed was Felicia.
Felicia had been out of town visiting relatives when Savannah had moved in.
She’d returned last week, but she had been out the other day when Felicia had come by to do the shopping.
She knew from Bennett that Felicia was in her sixties.
She was pretty, her blond hair cut in a stylish bob and her eyes a beautiful cobalt.
“You must be Felicia. I’m Savannah.”
Savannah smiled at her, but Felicia didn’t return the smile. “Nice to meet you, Savannah. Bennett has told me so much about you.
“I go to the market on Tuesdays and Fridays, so make sure to update the list before then if you need anything. Tuesdays are roast nights. If you don’t mind staying out of the kitchen between five and six, I’ll have it ready for the two of you after that.”
“Oh, that’s so nice, but I was planning to cook tonight. Kind of a thank-you. Bennett’s been helping me with my book.”
Felicia’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, he told me you’re trying to be a writer. Already getting his help, I see.”
Hostility oozed from the woman and Savannah swallowed, reminding herself that this was someone Bennett was very fond of. She needed to get along with her. “Just some advice. Actually, a roast sounds wonderful for dinner.”
“If you’re sure?” Felicia said, her tone slightly more conciliatory.
“Absolutely. I’m really not much of a cook. If you weren’t here Bennett would probably starve.” A nervous laugh escaped her.
“He doesn’t have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere.”
An awkward silence settled between them until finally Savannah broke eye contact.
“Well, I’m off to do some writing. Going to find a café or someplace to work in. Any suggestions?”
“Try Mast Market others sat looking at their phones.
She sipped her drink and took a bite of the sandwich as she waited for her computer to start up.
She opened the Word file with her untitled manuscript.
She had written three books before this one and had shelved each one.
First drafts were supposed to be shit, or at least that was what Stephen King said.
But when she typed the last word on each of her previous attempts, she had no desire to go back and fix them.
It was as though the magic had gone. And she believed part of the reason was that she had outlined them and then followed the outline to a T despite feeling that the actions didn’t line up with how the characters had developed.
So she decided to wing it, or be a pantser in writing lingo—writing by the seat of her pants.
The problem was, it was easy to write yourself into a corner or into a dead end.
It was also difficult coming to the page with no idea about what to write.
Maybe that was why she hadn’t worked on the book in over two months.
But this one was coming along nicely. She reread the three chapters that she had revised based on Bennett’s suggestions.
They were good. She’d read enough manuscripts to know, even if this was her own work.
She was eager for him to see what a good job she’d done.
She moved on to the next chapter and read it over, making notes in the margin at points that needed more elaboration or a more evocative response from her protagonist.
“Pardon me. Mrs. Bryson, right?”
She looked up to see the woman from the furniture store standing there. “Oh, hello. Savannah, please.”
The woman smiled. “I see you found the best café around! Nice to see you. Hopefully you won’t have to wait too long for the beautiful pieces you picked out.”
As she walked away, Savannah noticed a man behind the counter staring at her with what looked like shock. He quickly looked away when she met his eyes. She glanced at the name tag on his shirt. Henri.