Chapter 22
Syd
It was, one hundred percent, the best month of my life. We fell into a comfortable routine. But unlike before when our routine consisted of avoiding each other’s presence, now it was built upon being near each other any chance we got.
I would nearly run to Snyder Hall when I was done with either classes or my shift at the admin building, depending on the day. I’d work on the many boxes he’d bring over from his apartment while he was either still teaching or reading his students’ papers.
If I was sorting piles of notes, he’d sit behind his desk to read. If I was transcribing, he’d read on the couch and I’d take his desk.
We’d keep the office door open when we were both working to ward off any gossip and in case students wanted to consult with him.
He had standard office hours, but Montrose liked to be accessible to students.
Not for the first time, I thought he made a good teacher, and that it was too bad that this gig was only for one year.
I thought about that part, about him only here for a year, a lot.
Most days, I’d leave and meet Lily at the caf for dinner. Jane was still MIA most afternoons and evenings, though I guess she could have been in the room all the time and I wouldn’t have known it. There seemed to be an air of secrecy about her, when I did see her.
I didn’t try to break through it, having my own secret to protect.
Billy and I had decided to keep the boxes coming here and not to have me work out of his apartment.
For one, we knew we’d probably be a topic of rumors for just me working for Billy, we didn’t want to add any fuel to that possible fire by having someone see me coming or going to his home.
Bribury was a small school, and there wasn’t one female on campus who didn’t know who Billy Montrose was, whether they’d had his class or not.
For another thing, the old leather couch was temptation enough to quit early each day, we didn’t need the added risk of a full-sized bed nearby. We’d never get any work done.
Not that the couch was the only surface in his office that we’d take advantage of as soon as I’d get back from dinner with Lily. The desk, his chair, the guest chair, the credenza… They all saw their fair share of action.
And the floor. Oh, the floor. One evening I had piles of his notes all around me, when I heard him leaving his chair. Brushing past me, he quickly closed and locked the door, turning off the overhead light, leaving just the soft glow of his desk lamp.
I looked up at him, a question in my eyes. My body always heated up the instant he shut the door and locked it, because I knew that soon he would be touching me, making me melt, making me feel special, making me…his.
But usually he’d wait until I’d packed up for the day, or was done with a particular box, not when I had notes scattered in various piles all around me.
He stood with his back against the door, staring down at me. The lamp seemed to reflect off his eyes and it was easy to see the desire there. The desire I saw every time we were in this office.
“Ever since that first time we talked on the phone and you said you were working on the floor. And then you stretched out. It was before we FaceTimed, and I only heard your voice, but I imagined you stretched out here, my work, my characters, my thoughts spread around you… It was just such an awesome vision.”
“I remember,” I said, my voice rough and deeper than normal.
He pushed away from the door and went down to his haunches.
“I never forgot,” he whispered and crawled to me, papers crinkling under his knees, skittering away under his hands as he made his way to me. “Do it,” he said. “Lie back.”
I did. And it was crazy erotic having Billy Montrose make love to me on his office floor with the sound of his life’s work crunching around—beneath—us.
It was later that same night, as he was helping me clean up the mess we’d made (and had no guilt whatsoever about) that I came across notes about Aidan Colly for a book just named GP in his notes.
I recalled a GP folder from the day I’d opened all his docs, but it was one I hadn’t gotten to before he came in and blew a nut.
“Aidan Colly?” I asked him. “You’re doing a sequel?”
His face, so clear and at peace moments ago when he’d been inside me and looking down into my eyes, turned troubled, and I instantly regretted the enthusiasm that must have been in my voice.
“I didn’t think I’d seen any notes on a sequel before,” I added, looking around, putting a no-nonsense tone into my voice.
Like my heart wasn’t pounding with the thought that my author lover was going to continue on with my favorite literary character ever.
“There aren’t many,” he said. His hands stilled on the papers he was collecting and he placed them on the carpet, then stood up, zipping up his cargo pants as he did.
He crossed to his desk and sat down as I continued on with the reorganizing.
I didn’t like that he’d pulled away, but honestly, I wanted to put the papers back in the order I wanted.
This was my giant jigsaw puzzle after all.
I waited for Billy to come to terms with whatever ghost Aidan Colly represented to him. And to talk about it with me.
“It seemed the easiest route to go at the time. It wasn’t what I necessarily wanted to write next.”
“No?” I said, but kept my attention on the work, not looking back at him.
“No. In fact, I think I started Skylark first. But then Folly hit and everybody loved Colly, and I knew I could clean up with a sequel. I didn’t know at the time how much money I would end up seeing with Folly, so that was foremost in my mind. I wanted to be able to support myself as a writer.”
“Well, you’ve accomplished that,” I said lightly.
“Yeah, I have. So far.”
I thought I’d lost him, but I kept on working, letting him sift through his demons like I sifted through his notes.
“When we sold Folly, my agent insisted on a one-book deal, even though we got offers for two, and even three books. She said because of the price that Folly went for at auction, that the publisher would put so much promo behind it that it couldn’t help but do well.
And then we could negotiate for a killer deal for the next book. ”
“Sounds like she was right,” I said, my back still to him.
“She was. It’s not her fault that I haven’t been able to cash in on that by completing a second book.”
“Is that when you switched from Skylark to the sequel?” The piles were all straightened and I turned to face him, though I stayed seated on the floor. I had put my clothes back to rights, but I knew my hair and swollen lips showed the past hour we’d spent in each other’s arms.
But he wasn’t looking at me. His gaze was fixed out the window, even though the shades were down.
Slowly, he began to nod. Still looking at the window he said, “Yes. We weren’t counting on Folly doing so well with the critics. We knew it would do well the first few weeks out because of what the publisher was putting behind it, but then…once more and more big-hitter reviews came in…”
“You moved to the sequel. GP?”
“Gangster’s Providence. But I didn’t get very far.”
“No?” I asked, though his number of files on his computer was answer enough.
He shrugged, and his gaze finally fell to me. “Folly was a coming-of-age story. How many times does someone come of age?”
“I don’t know. It seems like it could be once. Or for other people, it could be all the time. People change. What they grow into changes.” I looked away from him, his gaze was too intense. It felt like he knew more secrets than I had revealed.
Would ever reveal.
“Yeah, that’s true. But, I didn’t want to do that to Aidan.
I left him in a good place at the end of Folly.
And yes, other challenges will most certainly come his way, but I didn’t want to manufacture them just to cash in on him.
It sounds crazy, but it kind of felt like I was… betraying him, you know?”
I nodded. Yeah, I did know. Though I—and any other Billy Montrose fan—would love to read a Gangster’s Folly sequel, I did kind of like the idea of Aidan Colly staying forever as we left him.
“Anyway, I knew it didn’t feel right, and I never came up with much. I put the idea away for a while, and tried to go back to Skylark, but by then… I don’t know. I lost the thread or something.”
He looked away from me with a sad smile. “And thus began what I now call my Years of Starts.” He motioned to the completed boxes in the corner of the office and the remaining ones on the credenza.
I’m not typically the pep talk kind of girl. That is much more Lily’s area. I kept my voice equal, without any sign of rah-rah, and said, “And this will be your Year of Finish.”
He looked at me for a long time. I held his gaze, not saying a word. This was on him. I could lead the author to water…
“Yes,” he finally said. “It will be.”
We both took deep breaths, like something monumental had just been overcome.
Montrose pulled his laptop over to him and opened it up. And I pulled the GP notes over, and immersed myself in my other boyfriend—Aidan Colly.