She's a born author. Everyone has praised her from a young age and she has a single- minded determination to be the greatest author there ever was. As a young woman in her twenties, she has only a few friends and a part- time job at a local restaurant to make ends just barely meet. Not that she needs it, though.

Her parents are famously rich. She knows they'll gladly spend her fortune on her, but she doesn't need it. She'll have her own fortune soon enough. Even soon, she knows they're waiting in the shadows, ready to hand her a solid gold rope when she's stuck in a rut.

Her days are unvaried and repetitive. She gets up, goes to work, eats lunch, comes back, and then spends hours typing away furiously in front of the screen. And there's no one to stop her in the empty apartment.

"No."

"Massie, come on." She and her friend are sitting in a crowded Starbucks, and it's too loud for them to worry about being overheard.

"Claire, I refuse to go on a blind date." Claire stirs her coffee slowly, shaking her head and warning Massie not to decide too soon.

"Take a few days to think about it, Mass." But Massie won't budge. She knows Claire, and she knows this is her way of easing people into her ideas until they agree completely.

"Claire, I'm perfectly capable of finding a date myself," she replies curtly. Claire sets her cup down and raises her eyebrows.

"Are you?" Massie is offended, even though she knows Claire is being honest with her. "I'm worried about you, Mass. You're almost thirty and still living alone!"

She flinches and shakes her head. "Don't say it like that. It makes it sound ten times worse than it really is."

Even as Claire scoffs she knows she's being ridiculous. Of course it's the truth.

"Don't think of it as a blind date," Claire amends, still looking for a yes. "Think of it as… a group of friends going out and there's just one guy you don't know."

"And two out of the four going are about to be married while the other two are conveniently single," Massie snorts. To her dismay, Claire claps her hands together.

"Exactly! So you're in?" As she stares at the excited blonde in front of her, Massie can't bear to refuse.

"What do I have to lose?" she grumbles, even as Claire squeals in delight, loading on her all the petty little details of the date.

Massie is squeezing in all the typing she can before its time to go. She couldn't care less about what the elusive Derrick Harrington will think of her, but she does finally decide to change out of the sweats she threw on this morning.

The doorbell makes her throw her hands up in frustration as she glares at the unfinished story in front of her. So close, she sighs as she gets up to answer the door.

A man who she can only assume as Derrick is as the door. He slides his sunglasses off with the indifferent yet interested attitude she's only seen in movies. He's handsome, and maybe she should have dressed up. But she's already frustrated at the stop he's causing in her story, so she grabs her purse and they head out.

"Claire tells me you're a writer," he says as they speed down the highway. She blushes, and notes his charm and tact in initiating a conversation.

"Not an accomplished one," she smiles.

"Yet," he adds teasingly, and she laughs. It isn't a bad start.

Cam and Claire are waiting for them at the restaurant, and Massie knows her outfit is anything but fitting. Claire's slightly annoyed expression confirms it, but she ignores it, smiling brightly at her friends.

"We aren't late, I hope," Derrick says as he pushes the chair back for her. Claire notes this small gesture, and her slightly forced smile turns genuine.

The dinner is spent retelling Derrick and Cam's high school adventures as she and Claire giggle.

After dinner Derrick drives her home, telling her about the great time he's had. She agrees. And as they stand in front of the door, Derrick hands her his number and she hers before turning away with a wink.

She walks in, and sighs as she collapses onto her writing chair. Just as she is about to begin, the phone rings. She tries to keep the annoyance at being interrupted again out of her voice as she answers.

It's Derrick. He can't find his way home and she is forced to give him directions as he weaves in and out of the winding streets near her home. It's nearly midnight when she finally hangs up, and she doesn't even glance at the computer before going to bed.

It's only when she's actually lying down in bed that she realizes her story is still waiting to be finished.

She's drumming her fingers against the table, glancing at the phone every few seconds. Derrick hasn't called in a week, and she worries he doesn't have any intention of doing so. She doesn't mention her worry to Claire, because she knows she can't bear to see the smug grin on her face when she finds out that Massie does care.

Even so, she swears she saw a glint of understanding in Claire's eyes the last time they met up for coffee and she oh so casually mentioned the date.

The phone rings and she jumps. She counts to ten before allowing herself to answer.

"This is Massie." She hopes she won't sound too eager and that this actually is Derrick.

"Hey, it's Derrick."

"Oh, hey." She hopes she sounds nonchalant because on the inside she's bouncing off the walls in jittery nervousness.

"So, you busy today?"

"Not yet…"

"How does lunch sound?" She can't help the smile that slips through.

"It sounds good."

And as they make plans to meet, her mind is on her story again. She can't wait to get started again. Out of the blue, she's gotten a blast of inspiration.

She is still clicking away when the doorbell rings. She curses when she sees the clock. Eleven already? She looks down at her t- shirt and shorts in dismay. But there's nothing to do when the doorbell rings again.

"Hi." She can't help but notice the flicker his eyes do over her clothes before they return to their original position.

"Hi," she manages to choke out in utter embarassment. He's wearing a suit, and it's only then that she realizes they made plans for an expensive restaurant.

"Um, let me go change," she stutters sheepishly as he nods and takes the liberty to walk in, glancing around as he does so.

When she is ready her embarassment has lessened and she's ready to meet him with a smile.

Their date is great, or at least in her opinion. She has no way of knowing his thoughts until he calls, two weeks later, to meet again.

For the first two months she's loopy in love, and too wrapped around his distant finger to notice how long it takes for him to call back, or how he's always late.

But then Claire wakes her from her dream with a tentative but determined shove.

"Massie, you need to break up with him."

"What are you talking about?"

"Derrick… is… he's cheating on you…"

The first thing that comes from Massie is a disbelieving half- snort.

"You can't be serious."

"But seriously, I know you'll think I'm crazy but-"

Something in her words makes Massie indignant, and it shows through in her next words. "I don't know what you're talking about, Claire."

"That's why I'm trying to tell you!"

Massie doesn't want to hear it, especially because she's afraid it will be true.

It's October when she is finally forced to face the truth. He hardly ever calls anymore, and for the first time in a long time she feels the absence of having someone beside her.

What happened? It was not so long ago that she was content, even glad to stay in the confines of her virtually silent and empty apartment. Now she shuddered away from it, and hated herself as she did so.

She meets him in the café she works at, calm and collected; ready for the job at hand.

"Hello, Derrick." If he notices the stiffness of her actions he does show it. He gives her a dazzling smile; one that used to brighten her day but now only looks like a flickering light bulb.

"Hey, Block, sorry I haven't been in touch for a while, it's just that work is really busy right now."

"I'm sure you're busy with a lot of things, Derrick." She hopes her words are calm and emotionless but can't help let a touch of anger tint them.

"What do you mean?" He hasn't caught on to where this is going, a fact that Massie doesn't know whether to cherish or hate. He runs his hand through his hair and takes the seat across from her.

"It's okay, Derrick, I know about Abigail." He stiffens but then relaxes, but by then it's too late. They both know what's about to happen.

When they part ways she feels empty inside, but isn't sure if he feels it too. One backwards glance from him dispels her doubts, but she propels herself forward, unwilling to give in.

She collapses into the couch at her house, sighing. She looks around, sadness clouding her vision. She slowly stands, making her way to the familiar computer.

She's finally free to finish her long- awaited story, but she's not eager anymore. She'd much rather have Derrick chatting over her shoulder, begging her to walk away from it for some fun.

She's got what she wanted, but her head falls to her hands as she cries over her loss, and there's no one there to hear her in the empty apartment.