Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Blaise sat cross-legged on her sofa, Beau curled at her feet like a furry paperweight as she and Cece hovered over the laptop balanced on the coffee table.
Morning light poured through the sliding doors, warm against her shoulders.
She sipped her coffee as Cece finished rereading the memoir query letter.
“Okay,” Cece said, tapping the screen with a freshly painted nail. “I think the middle paragraph is solid now. Makes you sound accomplished but human.”
Blaise snorted softly. “I am human.”
“That’s debatable,” Cece teased. “Most women don’t look like this first thing in the morning.”
Blaise waved the comment off, but she smiled all the same.
Cece scrolled down. “Now, this closing paragraph.” She went silent a moment, then nodded. “This is good. Feels strong. Confident. But the right kind of confident. Not delusional confident.”
Blaise laughed. “Thanks for clarifying. And for not making me sound like a nut.”
They both leaned in, taking in the polished draft one more time. It had taken a dozen tweaks, and a lot of conversation, but it finally sounded like it was talking about the version of Blaise she was trying so hard to reclaim.
Blaise had to ask. “You think it’s ready to send?”
“I do, but…” Cece tapped her lip thoughtfully. “You know what might give it a better chance?”
Blaise looked up. “What’s that?”
“If you included the first chapter.”
Blaise blinked. “What first chapter?”
“The first one of your book,” Cece said, like it was obvious.
Blaise stared at her. “Cece. I haven’t written anything yet.”
Cece paused mid-breath. “Nothing? I thought you were working on it.”
“No. Not a word.” Blaise pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around them, and suddenly feeling like she’d forgotten to do her homework.
Beau grumbled at being displaced, but quickly settled.
“I have to confess, I don’t know where to start.
My life feels too big. Too chaotic. Too hard to capture in words, which is ironic, considering this was my idea.
I just don’t know where to start. Or how. ”
Cece’s expression softened. “I get that. But it doesn’t have to be perfect. You just need a place to begin.”
Blaise sighed. “I’ve lived so many lives. Model. Wife. Mother. Widow. Woman who lost almost everything. Woman trying to rebuild. How do I decide what becomes Chapter One?”
“Well,” Cece said, shifting to sit cross-legged beside her.
“Let’s see if we can figure that out.” She rested her elbow on the back cushion and turned fully toward her friend.
“If you had to pick a moment—not the prettiest, not the fanciest, but the one that resonates with you the most—where would your story really start?”
Blaise stared at the coffee table, at the gentle rise and fall Beau’s chest, at the cursor blinking on the Word doc that held the letter they’d been crafting. Her throat tightened.
“I guess…the moment I realized how badly I’d screwed up.
When my life felt like it was gone,” she said quietly, remembering that moment as if it had just happened.
“When the bank called. When I understood what that scammer had taken from me. Not just the money. In that moment, it felt like he’d also taken my future. ”
Cece nodded gently. “That’s powerful. And painful. And very honest.”
“But depressing,” Blaise muttered. She picked at the seam of her jeans. The shame and despair of that event clawed at her, threatening to pull her back down. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get past it.
“Not if it’s the beginning of climbing back up.” Cece leaned forward slightly. “What did it feel like? What did you do? What was the very first thing you said to yourself?”
Blaise swallowed, unsure how to put that raw memory into words that made sense.
“I think…I remember sitting on my kitchen floor, phone in my hand. Just sitting there. Beau nudged me and kind of brought me around. I realized I couldn’t sit there forever.
That doing nothing was not an answer. And with Jay gone, I had to stand up for myself. ”
Cece nodded slowly, encouragingly. “That’s good. That’s a beginning. And because it’s so honest and true, it’ll draw readers in. Get them to empathize with you.”
Blaise looked at her friend, gratitude swelling. Asking Cece to help with this had been the right move. “Maybe.”
“Not maybe,” Cece corrected gently. “Definitely. The general public is already going to be on your side. You were—are—a famous face. You were well-liked in your heyday, there’s no reason to think you won’t still be well-liked.”
“Do you really think I have enough to fill a book?”
Cece laughed. “For sure. You just need to trust yourself enough to write it.”
“That sounds easier said than done.”
“Think of it this way,” Cece said. “Write like you’re talking to someone.
Me, if that helps. There’s nothing wrong with a conversational style.
Lots of autobiographies and memoirs are written that way.
Don’t worry about being perfect or how long it is.
Worry about telling a good story and telling it accurately. Can you do that?”
Blaise nodded. “Yeah, I can.”
“Good. Do you think you can write that first chapter today?”
Blaise’s mouth fell open. “Seriously?”
“Again, don’t think of it so…big picture. If a chapter feels intimidating, think of it as a collection of stories. Can you write up that first story today? Then if you want, I can read it over and help you polish it up. You could be sending all of this out tomorrow.”
That was exciting to think about. “I can certainly try.”
“Good. That’s all you have to do. Try.”
Blaise’s phone chimed. Beau’s ears perked up but only for a moment. She glanced down. “Hang on, Maude texted me.”
She read the message, hearing it in Maude’s voice. Your website is LIVE! Take a look and let me know what you think! If you have any changes, I’ll take care of them when I get home. Off to the hospital for my first day of volunteering.
Thank you so much and you’re going to do great, Blaise responded.
Then she exhaled and looked at Cece. “Oh, my gosh.”
Cece’s brows lifted. “What? Did you think of another genius story already?”
“No.” Blaise bit her lip as she put the phone down. “Maude. She got it done. My website’s up.”
Cece’s face lit with delight. “Well, then, open it! Don’t leave me hanging. I want to see it.”
Hands suddenly clumsy, Blaise typed in the domain name Maude had gotten her. For a moment, there was nothing but a blank page. Then it appeared.
Her homepage. Blaise exhaled. Wow. She smiled.
Her name was at the top in clean, elegant typography.
Three of the photographs Maude had taken on the beach on Sunday were arranged in soft, sunlit panels that contrasted beautifully with the black and gray.
Maude had done something to them as well.
Put some kind of filter on them that made them look slightly dreamlike.
Beneath her name was the tagline they’d discussed: Grace, Grit & Glamour.
Blaise’s throat tightened. “What do you think, Cece?”
Cece scooted in closer, almost shoulder to shoulder. “Oh, Blaise. It’s beautiful. This looks like you. The real you. It’s strong and classy and I don’t know how Maude did it, but there’s something vulnerable about it, too.”
“Those are the pictures she took.”
“Maude took those?” Cece leaned in. “Is there anything that girl can’t do? Then again, Beau could probably take a photo of you, and it would be stunning.”
Blaise laughed. “I don’t know about that.”
Her fingers hovered over the touchpad, scrolling slowly. The portfolio page showcased her past modeling shots, curated tastefully. Another tab featured the brief bio they’d worked on, now polished and glowing on the screen. And on another tab, the part that mattered most to her future, Book Blaise
She clicked on that and it took her to a page that said she was available for speaking engagements, modeling, and other promotional work with more photos of herself.
Cece inhaled sharply. “Oh, girl. This is legit. Anyone looking for a speaker or a model or a brand ambassador is going to take one look at this and hit that button to contact you. This is awesome.”
Blaise felt her eyes start to prickle with unshed tears. The kind she hadn’t cried in a long time. Her friends were so good to her. “I really hope you’re right.”
“And it’ll give weight to your query letter. You need to include the link to your site in your email signature.”
Blaise’s brows went up and she gave Cece a look.
Cece smiled. “Don’t worry, I can show you how to do that.”
“Thanks.”
They sat there for a moment, looking through the site again. Blaise had lost so much. Not just her husband and her money, but her security and confidence, too. But this? This website? It made it feel like all of that was about to change. Like real change was possible. Jay would have been so proud.
Cece bumped her shoulder gently. “I’m proud of you.”
Blaise let out a shaky laugh. “I might actually cry, but really, this was Maude’s doing”
“Don’t cry. I think I read that salt is terrible for the skin.”
Blaise snorted out a real laugh this time. “I’ll keep that mind.”
“All right,” Cece said, straightening. “You have some work to do, so I’ll get out of your hair. Send me whatever you come up with for that first chapter whenever you’re ready. There’s no rush to do this tomorrow, you know. The timeline is up to you.”
Blaise got to her feet and walked Cece to the door. Not one to be left out, Beau joined them. “I can’t thank you enough. You and Maude. I owe you guys dinner, at least.”
“I wouldn’t say no to that, but if you really want to pay me back, come shopping with me sometime and help me make better clothing choices.”
Blaise gave her a quick hug, then let her go to open the door. “I would love that. You pick the day and I’m all yours.”
“Great! We’ll do it as soon as you get that letter sent. It’ll be a good distraction, so you don’t sit around checking your email all day.”
Blaise gripped the door handle a little harder. “You don’t think they’ll respond that fast, do you?”
Cece shook her head. “Not a chance. Publishing rarely moves that quickly. Although, I guess it could happen. You are kind of a celebrity, but it’s still pretty rare. Just forget I said that.” With a wave, she was gone.
Blaise closed the door. Her laptop awaited. And she had a story to tell.