One Year Later
New York was not LA. It was hot and muggy and crowded and vibrant and exciting and interesting.
It was full of people always in a hurry because there were so many places to go.
And buildings that rose so high into the sky they touched the clouds.
It was loud with honking horns and ringing bike bells and shouting cab drivers and construction workers and also music and laughter and conversation.
And there were trees. More trees than I was expecting.
Some with little iron gates around them in the middle of a sea of concrete.
There were vines that climbed up brick walls and potted flowers that sat on porches and hung in window boxes.
Food carts dotted corners and people played guitars with boxes full of change in front of them.
It didn’t surprise me that this was the heart of publishing.
“This place is so full,” I said, Oliver’s hand in mine as we headed for the Ritz-Carlton.
“Full of what?” he asked.
“Of everything,” I said.
“You want to move here?”
“I want to visit here. Way more often. But no, LA is home.”
He squeezed my hand. “You excited for this?”
Kari’s AI book came out on Tuesday to rave reviews, and right now at the ballroom in the Ritz, we were having a book launch.
Lots of important people from the industry would be there and we would celebrate Kari and her success.
She took a risk. She stepped outside her genre and it was paying off in a big way.
“I am. I have some editors I want to talk to about Lacey’s book.
” I had clients now. Lots of them. Even some of my old clients had found me and joined me for their current projects.
And I’d sold more than just Kari’s book.
In fact, I’d been featured in Publishers Weekly as a Rising Star.
I was still paying back my parents’ loan and barely managing my bills, but I was on my way.
“Don’t work too hard. This is a party too,” he said. “A celebration.”
“I like celebrations.”
“I know you do.”
At the front doors to the hotel was a larger-than-life cutout of Kari’s book cover. I passed Oliver my phone and he took a selfie of us standing in front of it. Then he turned the phone toward me, showing me the screen. “Your sister is calling.”
I nodded for him to answer the FaceTime call. The image that came on the screen was my sleeping niece. “Adeline wanted to wish you luck tonight,” Audrey said. Her daughter was seven months old now and the sweetest baby ever.
“Aw, I miss her,” I responded, taking over holding the phone.
“Hi, Audrey,” Oliver said. Yes, it had been weird at first, anytime the two of them interacted.
And perhaps I hadn’t fully anticipated the feelings of jealousy I’d have at the beginning.
But then those feelings faded away, because aside from the few stories they shared from the past, they really were like strangers getting to know each other.
It was obvious I knew more about Oliver than Audrey ever had.
“I know you’re busy,” Audrey said. “I just wanted to say congratulations. Tell Kari hi from me and that I adore her book.”
“No advice for me tonight? It’s my first big party.”
“You should be giving me advice, little sis. You’re killing it.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”
We hung up and Oliver and I finished our walk inside to the ballroom already full of people dressed up and enjoying themselves.
On a big table just past the doors were stacks and stacks of Kari’s book. She’d signed them earlier to give away to the guests tonight.
Kari met me in the middle of the ballroom and brought me into a hug. “Don’t be alarmed, but Rob is here.”
“You invited Rob?” I asked.
Rob. He did not go quietly. We fought and threatened each other weekly for three months after I signed Kari.
But he didn’t sue me. And I didn’t expose him.
Then one day, he just stopped. I didn’t ask him why, not wanting to reopen dialogue.
The romantic in me told me it was because he fell madly in love and his anger disappeared.
Sloane had said, “Let’s hope it’s not with his twenty-four-year-old assistant. ”
“I did not invite him,” Kari said now. “But you know how publishing is…”
“Small,” I said.
“Exactly. You can play nice?” This she directed at Oliver.
“I don’t know who Rob is,” he said.
She laughed. “Good answer.”
A woman approached from my right and I immediately recognized her as Doris Mesner from my dream agency. “You must be Margot,” she said, extending her hand.
“I am. It’s so nice to meet you, Doris.”
“What do I have to do to get you over to my agency?”
“Move to Los Angeles?” I smiled.
“Let’s talk later.” To Kari, she said, “Congratulations. Your book is phenomenal.”
“Thank you.”
“We’re going to grab drinks,” I said to Kari. “Would you like anything?”
“No, but I need to talk to you later too. I have an idea for something outside the box.”
“More outside the box than this?” I nodded toward her table of books.
She smiled.
“I’m sure it’s amazing.”
As we headed toward the bar Oliver said, “You like people more than I do.”
“As long as you like me, I’m okay with that.”
“Not even a question,” he said.
My phone buzzed and I pulled it out of the pocket of my dress, hooking my arm in Oliver’s so I could read and walk at the same time.
Sloane had sent a text that was accompanied by fireworks shooting across my screen.
The fireworks are supposed to represent yours and Kari’s success, not whatever you and Oliver have been doing in your fancy hotel.
Thanks for the clarification , I typed back.
Congrats! Oh, and you left your notebook on the coffee table and I may have read a few lines on the page. Are you writing a screenplay?!
I had started writing again, just for fun. It was amazing how much I wanted to, now that I was listening to my own instincts. And maybe it would be more than fun one day. Don’t read my stuff, nosy!
I won’t have access to your stuff anymore if you would talk to Oliver about the whole moving in thing. I want to sign a lease with Miles next month.
Glad to know you can so easily replace me. And asking someone to move into their house is a delicate matter. It takes time.
More fireworks exploded on my screen. Those represent me and Miles.
Ew. I gotta go. I’m in the middle of a party.
Love you!
We stopped at the back of a decent-sized line for the bar.
Oliver pulled out his phone, read something on the screen, and looked at me. “You want to move in with me?” he asked.
My mouth fell open. “Did Sloane just text you?”
He turned his phone toward me: Ask your rock star girlfriend to move in with you already.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “You know Sloane.”
“You want to move in with me?” he repeated.
I studied his face, trying to read his expression. “Are you asking me or asking me?”
After a year, Oliver knew me well, because that question didn’t confuse him. “I didn’t need this text from Sloane. I was going to ask you as soon as we got home.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
We were almost to the front of the line when I saw Rob ahead ordering drinks, a very young blonde on his arm.
Oliver had pretended Rob didn’t bother him when Kari brought it up, but I knew better.
The months of back-and-forth between Rob and me were hard for him to sit through without doing anything.
And now, I knew Rob was one errant word away from getting laid out by Oliver’s fist.
“I’m fine,” Oliver said, reading my mind, like normal. “Are you ?”
“You’re really fine?”
“We won, Margot. I kind of feel sorry for him now. But if you want to avoid him, I understand. We can turn around.”
I smiled up at him. “Yes, Oliver, I want to move in with you. I want you to be annoyed that I turn that nice chair in the corner of your room into my clothes chair and that I stack piles of books on the nightstand by the bed and that I only do dishes when the sink is full.”
“And you can be annoyed that I don’t hit the snooze button and I run every morning at the exact same time and I eat the exact same thing for breakfast regardless of my feelings.”
“That is pretty annoying,” I said. “But I’m already used to all that.”
He kissed me softly. “You’re good for me.”
I laced our fingers together. “I get to use your toilet all the time now.”
He let out a groan. “ Toilet still doesn’t mean what you’re implying it to mean, Margot.”
I laughed. “It will always mean that to me.”