Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 78(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 78(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
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EPILOGUE
ELIAS
One Month later
Fresh from the showers, I step my way through teammates, family, and friends with an imperceptible limp. Nothing bad, just an ankle sprain, but I'll miss the next game. I see Elise and James hanging back near the exit doors. Elise jumps, throwing her arms around my neck. I've come to expect this greeting from Elise. James just stands back and watches.
"Aww, that greeting never gets old. But don't you think it might be best to go easy on the man, especially right after a game?"
"Oh, so sorry, darling." Taking a step back, her jaw drops open, and her hand hits her mouth. "What happened?"
"Nothing, I'll tell you on the way. Are we late, James? Let's go."
James drives, and we head straight to the Khan hotel. "You two obviously need me to get you another room when we arrive ... " he glances at us kissing in the back seat, "... and some food too. Can't you just stop eating each for the next ten minutes? Please!" Then he grins at us in the rear-view mirror. I'll make sure you have enough to eat and drink, promise.
We arrive, and James ushers us into his private office.
A tall, elegantly dressed woman is standing, admiring the city skyline through the huge glass window. James introduces us. "Ms. Talia Morgan, I believe you know Elias King." She waves her hand.
"Of course, everyone in this city knows Elias. Did you guys win today?"
"Yes, we sure did."
"And this is Ms. Elise Walters," James continues. "Drinks all round ...champagne, of course." We all sit around the oval, polished wooden table, decorated with a cerulean blown-glass vase placed precisely in the centre.
"Thank you, James," says Ms. Morgan. "Shall I start?" James excuses himself and leaves us.
Elise looks so puzzled. She glances at me with a wide-eyed expression, silently mouthing what the fuck. I pretend not to understand. I just shrug and smile at Ms. Morgan. Yes, please go ahead, Talia.
"Elise, I met with Elias and James recently, and they passed me your latest manuscript. They were highly enthusiastic. I rarely, if ever, take unsolicited manuscripts, but who can refuse Mr. King? Oh, forgive me, I am the Commissioning Editor at Axiom-Morgan Publishers. You might be aware of our company. Well, I am delighted to say that I was very impressed and can see potential in your work. I don't think it is ready yet by any means..."
Elise almost jumps up from her chair. I swear I see her butt clear at least half an inch. She places both palms down flat on the table surface and takes a deep breath.
"... But I am willing to sign an initial exclusive arrangement for further development, which will include an advance to help you re-draft and edit the work further to meet our specifications. Plus an Option or Right of First Refusal for future books, if any." Talia places the document on the table and hands Elise a shiny Montblanc fountain pen.
Elise looks at me, then Talia. She takes the Montblanc and looks back at me. Her mouth emits a shrill squeak. Then tears start to flow down her cheek.
James enters right on cue, with another bottle of Champagne.
"Of course, we can discuss how and where we think the work needs development. We will introduce you to our top developmental editor. You'll have quite a bit of work to do before it is ready for publication. Please read this before you sign, if you wish, and I am happy to respond to your questions."
Elise signs the document before Talia finishes her sentence. Then she leaps and throws her arms around my neck, slapping her mouth onto mine. Then with "Oh no, s o r r y!" She pulls back immediately.
"Oh, so sorry again. I am so stupid. Did I hurt your ankle, poor darling?"
I squeeze her tight, laugh out loud, and kiss her forehead.
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EXTENDED EPILOGUE
ELISE
One year later, and I still can't believe how much has changed. I sit behind a table stacked with copies of my debut horror novel, "The Girl Next Door," watching as the line of readers stretches toward the back of the bookstore. My fingers are cramping from signing my name so many times, but I wouldn't trade this feeling for anything.
Not the two-book deal I signed with Axiom-Morgan. Not the movie rights that sold last month in a bidding war that still makes me dizzy to think about. Not even seeing my name on the New York Times bestseller list for six consecutive weeks.
The manuscript Elias read that night in his apartment—the one I was ready to shelve after seventeen rejections—is now displayed prominently in the front window. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming.
"Next, please," I say automatically, eyes down.
The open-book slides across the table under my gaze. I raise my pen. Name?