Chapter 38 Madison
Chapter thirty-eight
Madison
December
Meow.
Hamlet’s loud voice wakes me from slumber. I crack an eye open to see him perched next to me on my bed, seafoam eyes studying me expectantly.
Meow.
“What are you doing in here, Hammie?” I mumble, voice heavy with sleep.
“I thought you could use a little coffee in bed to help you wake up this morning,” Liam says from the doorway. Glancing at the clock, I see it’s after eight already. Which explains why Liam looks freshly showered and already dressed in a maroon dress shirt and black pants.
He's looking so attractive, I’d love to run my fingers through that freshly-washed hair and mess it up just a little.
“You were up so late last night, I wasn’t sure you’d be able to make it to the kitchen without caffeine,” he says, the taunting look on his face offsetting the concern in his words.
Rubbing my eyes, I sit up fully in bed, crisscrossing my legs. Hamlet makes himself at home in my lap, and I hold my hands out toward Liam. “I accept.”
I’ve been working Becky’s stand at Christmas Fest almost every day for the past three weeks, only to come home and edit a manuscript I have due back to the author before Christmas.
Liam has supported me through the long hours with pour over coffees and shoulder rubs, knowing that padding my bank account over these few weeks gives me breathing room to figure out the next step.
As magical as the festival has been, I’m excited that this is the final weekend. Because I need a break.
Liam hands me a cup of steaming black coffee, then sits on the end of my bed. I raise an eyebrow. “Such a rule breaker.”
He leans in with a wicked look on his face, looking like he’s about to kiss me. I hold a hand up in front of my mouth and say, “Nope. No, sir. Let’s add ‘Must brush teeth before kissing’ to our list of roommate rules.”
With a fake pout, he sits back. “I don’t know—it seems like an awful lot of effort to get the contract amended and re-notarized when we have less than two weeks left of being roommates.”
After we travel to Nebraska so Liam can meet my family over Christmas, he’ll be moving into one of the new modern apartments.
I will be moving into a rundown apartment straight out of the 70s that is being vacated by a tenant moving to the new apartment building.
The rent is cheap, so I can continue scraping by with my trickle of editing clients and whatever other odd jobs I decide to take on until MJE takes off.
“What time do you have to be at Becky’s?” Liam asks, folding his arms across his chest. The movement draws my attention to the muscles in his forearms, visible below his rolled sleeves. I’m tempted to throw my new “no kissing before toothpaste” rule out the window.
Liam is only one week into building his consulting business, Executive Action Inc.
, and he already signed his first two clients (and turned down two others).
Apparently, word traveled fast that “The Fixer” was available for open hire, and all of corporate America is beating down the door for his time.
Do I exaggerate? Maybe. But barely.
He has made good on his promise to continue wearing the suits even while working from home. And he doesn’t change until after I get home from my shifts at Becky’s and can properly appreciate his professional attire.
“I’m supposed to be at Becky’s at ten,” I say. “But I told Clara that I would stop by Emily’s office first to help her unload the new shipment of collectible mugs.”
“I tried to tell them they were going to need more to start with,” Liam says, shaking his head.
I smile as I say, “I’ll be sure to remind Clara that you told her so.” Picking up my phone, I turn off my upcoming alarm and notice an email notification. Swiping down on the notification bar, my eyes widen when I see it’s an email from Elizabeth.
Not-so-gently setting my coffee mug down on the side table, I click open the email. Scanning through the words, I gasp, “Oh my gosh!” I scan them again and repeat, “Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh!”
“What?” Liam asks, scooting closer to me on the bed. “What is it?”
I look up at him with what I’m sure is a wild expression. “Do you remember that client I had, Elizabeth? The one whose manuscript was my dream kind of book to edit? The one I thought might be the beginning of things taking off, but I never really heard from her again?”
Liam nods along, clearly remembering this very pivotal and then disappointing client.
“Well, listen to this,” I say, clearing my throat. I read the email aloud.
Hi, Madison. I’m so sorry for the long delay in communicating with you.
Right after I released my book, I was contacted by an up-and-coming publishing house about signing a contract for two more books.
We’ve been in negotiations, and I mentioned that I would like to retain you as my editor if I signed on with them.
They requested to see the edits you did for me, and after reviewing the file, they’ve expressed interest in hiring you to be one of their in-house editors.
I know it’s late notice, and you’re likely swamped before the holidays, but if you would have time to jump on a video call this afternoon with me and the publishing house’s head editor, we’d love to talk to you.
If not, please send me your earliest availability for next week, if you’re interested.
Looking forward to talking and hopefully working with you!
All the best,
Elizabeth
When I look up from my phone screen to Liam, his face is brighter than a sunbeam. He lunges forward, crushing me in a hug, and I squeal in response.
“This is amazing, MJ! I knew something like this would happen for you eventually. You deserve this,” he says, taking my face in his hands. “Permission to break rule number eighty-five, or whatever number your new rule was?”
“Permission happily granted,” I say, elatedly returning his enthusiastic kiss. Hamlet squirms out from between us, retreating to the Christmas tree.
“I’m so proud of you,” Liam says when he pulls away from our kiss.
My heart swells as I say, “I’m proud of me too.”
“To Madison’s new proofreading position!” Clara declares, raising her glass in the air. The ten of us clink our glasses together and take a drink.
“To Liam’s new consulting firm thingie!” Beau exclaims, calling us all to cheers our glasses a second time.
“To Christmas Fest being over and the return of normalcy to Noel,” Clark practically groans, and we all heartily echo agreement.
Well, except Clara. She pouts a little bit before reminding Clark, “It’s still officially No-el through the end of the month, thank you very much.”
“When will you start with the publishing firm, Mads?” Syd asks, leaning her elbows on the table. The Deer River Bar is still decked out in all its Christmas glory, and the twinkling lights reflect in Syd’s eyes.
“Right after the first of the year,” I say. “So I have time to enjoy the holidays over the next couple of weeks, and then I’ll do my orientation with them in person for three days before I start taking on projects remotely.”
“But Madison Joy Editorial will still exist, right?” Clara clarifies. “We worked so hard on her—you can’t just leave her out to die!”
Rolling my eyes at her dramatics, I say, “Yes, it will. Because this publishing house is only doing nonfiction, I can still accept fiction manuscripts for freelance editing, as long as it doesn’t interfere with my deadlines.”
“You’re going to be amazing, Mads,” Becky says. “But I’m more than a little bummed to lose my best barista. At least come back next year for Christmas Fest to help me make those Grinch matcha lattes. I had no clue they would be so popular!”
“Deal,” I say with a grin.
The guys start talking about their bro trip to the cabin coming up next week, and Sydney is entertaining Becky and Abby with a story about her son. I lean my head against Clara’s shoulder next to me as I hold Liam’s hand under the table.
“I’m so happy to be here with you, Care-Bear,” I say. She huffs a laugh at my use of her parents’ nickname for her. “Seriously—thank you for suggesting I come here. I think you might have changed my whole life. I’m so lucky to have a friend like you. So lucky to be here.”
Clara shrugs her shoulder enough to get me to raise my head and look at her.
“We’re the lucky ones, Mads. I can’t even imagine what the past year would have looked like without you. Way more boring, at the very least,” Clara says with a teasing smile. “You’ve brought so much joy to me this year. To all of us.”
I raise my glass and give her a sassy wink. “Joy to Noel.”