Three Weeks Later
Liza sat at her desk in the Empirical offices looking over her day's schedule. It was jammed with back-to-back meetings and conference calls, but one appointment stood out from the rest. Charles was coming in to discuss his book and talk preliminary ideas. He was due at eight o'clock tonight.
She had not seen or spoken to him since the morning she woke up at his place, but The Miseducation of Henry Cane manuscript had been laying on her desk one morning. He must have delivered it himself overnight. Afterwards he sent an email asking for an appointment when most of the staff would be gone. He wanted to be a regular author meeting with his editor and not be seen by employees who wanted to catch-up or ask work-related questions and thought the best way was making the appointment for the evening. There would be plenty of time for employees later.
Liza thought his book was wonderful. A coming-of-age story about a twenty-one-year-old man having an affair with a forty-something unhappily married woman. It was semi-autobiographical in the same way Pauline's book, Marriage Vacation, had been a semi-autobiographical retelling of their marriage and her year away from her family trying to find herself.
Liza read the manuscript hoping it would be as wonderful as the draft she had found, and the truth was, it was even better. Maturity had sharpened his perspective and given him an honest sense of his place in the drama that consumed his one summer after college. She could see Yaddo's influence in the prose. Gone was the simple phrasing and in its place was a more sophisticated and, at times, raw emotional tale. He really had a storyteller's voice, and this was a unique opportunity to finish a book years after starting that few ever get, and she wanted him to take full advantage of it.
Shaking herself from reverie and turning her attention to the day ahead, Liza had to get to work and put off thinking about tonight.
The closer it got to eight o'clock, the more nervous she became, which was crazy. She was good at her job, but this was more than that. This was Charles and she was running his company, started by his grandfather after winning a poker game and made successful by his father. Part of her wanted to impress her boss and part of her wanted to impress him as a woman. Which half was winning was anyone's guess.
Something that was not confusing was realizing the business side of publishing was not her forte. That much she knew. Discovering new talent while promoting literature in an age of quick, superficial soundbites was a joy. Helping authors with the editing process was exciting. All of that made her eager for Charles to take back his job as publisher so she could return to Millennial full-time. At least, she hoped he wanted to return, while realizing that if he did not, it was because she gave him a mighty wind to soar with his ambitions. The future was unknown, but if the last few years had taught her anything it was that one way or another, survival was certain.
Diana stopped by Liza's office on her way out for the night.
"I'm leaving. Enzo is showing me how to make a dessert and I need to pick up a special ingredient from some shop in Little Italy. All I know is the name. I have no idea where it's located. I eat in Little Italy; I don't shop there. I thought there was a map on this phone," she said, impatiently looking at her phone.
"Oh, how nice. What are you cooking?" Liza asked politely.
"I don't know, some dish his mother makes that apparently, I need to learn. Why do I need to learn if she already makes it?! I don't see why she can't keep making it! Maybe I will buy it in the future and say it's mine. Why do I need to cook?"
Diana continued, "by the way, when is Charles coming back? I assume you know since you're the one who exiled him," she asked haughtily.
"I don't know, Diana."
"How long is he staying at Yaddo?"
"He's back in town and wants us to publish the book. That's all I know."
"Did he enjoy Yaddo? Details, Liza!"
Liza took her eyes off the screen and gave Diana her full attention.
"Yes, I think he did. We spoke a few weeks ago but very briefly. I don't know many details. Sorry, Diana."
"Hmmmmm," Diana mused thoughtfully asking, "What exactly is the status of your relationship?"
"We are friends and that's all."
Diana looked at her with some concern. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Liza put her eyes back on the screen in front of her, "No."
Diana was not put off but did not pry.
"Fine. Anyway, I'm leaving. What are you working on?"
"I'm looking at financials for last quarter and projected figures for next quarter."
"How exciting," she said dryly, clearly not meaning it. "Liza, try not to run the company in the ground before Charles gets back," Diana said, waving goodbye and walking off.
Minutes before eight o'clock and Liza had lost track of time, still typing on her keyboard with nearly all the staff having left for the day when a shadow filled her doorway.
"Good evening," Charles said.
He was wearing chinos and a nice, but casual long-sleeved shirt, both in solid colors and he looked more relaxed than she had ever seen him. Handsome as always with a slightly unshaven face and looking younger in appearance. It made her wish she had known him when they were both younger.
"Good evening," she returned his greeting heartily.
"Is now still a good time?" he asked gingerly, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, of course. I've been expecting you. Please come in, take a seat. You are looking really rested. It's striking the difference in your appearance."
"Thank you. I feel good, although I have missed this place and am eager to get back in the swing of things. Thanks also for agreeing to meet now. I know it cuts into your personal time and I apologize for that," he said, walking into her office.
"Oh, no. You're fine. No worries. I don't have a personal life right now," Liza said laughingly, gesturing to her office visitor's chair.
Charles laughed too, looking at the floor and then back at her.
"I completely understand," he smiled, sitting down. "This book has consumed me for eight weeks. When I finished it was like coming up for air and trying to remember how to breathe again. I'm not sure what to do other than write," he admitted incredulous.
"Yeah, a lot of authors tell me that," she told him, nodding her head.
"Yeah, me too, but it's completely different from this side of the fence," he confessed.
"I bet."
A semi-awkward silence followed as they looked at each other. Book editors and authors worked closely for weeks editing and negotiating changes getting manuscripts ready for publication, but this was uncharted territory, and their history was complicated. They worked well together, but how they would navigate this process was unknown. The break-up happened right before he left for Yaddo. There had been no time to process the split before he departed for Upstate New York for six weeks. How they, a separated couple, would do under the pressure of such close familiarity was either a loaded fuse or a peaceful surrender to cooperation.
"Charles, your book is wonderful, and I am looking forward to working with you on it, but before we get started, now that you're here, can I ask you a non-author related question and more of a publisher question?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Of course," he said.
"I've been looking at this financial report for hours and this one item doesn't make sense. Can you explain it? I am not familiar with this entry. I have tried looking for answers and keep coming up short," she asked, reaching for her monitor to turn it around for him, but he moved too quickly and was standing over her shoulder faster than she could rotate it.
"Which line?" he asked, one hand on the back of her chair and the other leaning on her desk.
"This one," she said, pointing to a line item on a spreadsheet.
"Can you expand the column, so I can see the entire entry?" he asked calmly, pointing to the top of the column.
She obligingly expanded the column.
"That is a dummy entry, see the symbol at the end of the cell, that indicates it's a dummy," he said pointing to the cell in question.
"That's a scary large amount for a dummy account," she said, pointing to the amount in the total column, looking at him with concern.
"I believe that's the Brooks Scholarship Program. They lump it all together in one entry for this report. You would need to talk to accounting to get specifics," he explained, looking down at her. "I've seen it before but am unsure off the top of my head."
She turned her face and their eyes met. The intimacy it created sizzled between them making past emotions rise to the surface, bubbling with intoxicating fire.
Charles stepped back as if suddenly burnt.
Clearing her throat, she turned away from him, "Okay, uh-thank you for that. I appreciate you explaining it," she said.
"Sure thing."
"Hey, how 'bout we go to the conference room and get started? That way we can spread out," Liza said, thinking that way you won't be so close, as she reached across her desk for an imaginary anything to put space between them and avoid looking at him. "I'll meet you there," she suggested.
"Yep, sounds good," he said.
He picked up the manuscript and headed to the conference room leaving her in the office alone.
A/N: Chapter 5 is already written. I will spend the next two weeks editing chapter 5 and finish writing chapter 9(!). Thanks for reading and your kind comments.
