Read Online Love Isn't Blind 1 by Sweet and Special Books - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sweet and Special Books
Tags: Fiction
Ads: Link
takes a good three or four minutes to get flowing, so start running it early if you want a shower. I'll be downstairs if you need anything. The house isn't that big, so feel free to wander around anywhere you see an open door."
"Thank you. Oh, um, will I be meeting Mr. Lang today?" asked Ashley.
"I nearly forgot!" said Helene. "He's doing his exercises right now, so why don't you meet him in the parlor in about an hour?"
Ashley looked at the woman. She smiled and tried not to seem irritated by Helene’s assumption that she would be happy to blithely wander around the house trying to figure out where she was to meet her new boss. She opted for a questioning look instead.
"Just down the stairs; it's the double doors on your right. You can't miss it," said Helene as she exited the room.
Ashley opened the smaller of her two carryalls and removed her laptop and the neatly coiled charging cable. She hunted around for a few minutes before finally finding the only empty power outlet in the room. She was happy that the cable was long enough for her to be able to charge at her desk. A lamp that would be the one source of light in the evenings took up the other outlet, and she made a mental note to pick up a small power strip to plug in her phone charger. For now, she was happy to arrange a few of her belongings on the writing desk and bedside table. She'd unpack her clothes later as she was keen to take a few minutes to skim the work she'd done on her manuscript during the train ride.
This was the real reason she wanted to work for Anthony Lang. She'd completed two full-length novel manuscripts already, but both had been repeatedly rejected by every agent and publisher she could think of sending them to. She was doing what any self-respecting writer would do and had started working on her third book without wallowing over the first two failures. Now that she had a chance to work with a legend in the writing game, she figured she'd be able to learn a thing or two about crafting the sort of suspense tale that would finally get her noticed. It was difficult being a woman who wanted to write about political intrigue and foreign espionage, and as much as she didn't want to press Anthony to read her work and possibly share it with his agent, she did carry the small hope that he might one day take an interest in her writing.
The work she'd done that morning was rough and raw, an awkward product of the anxious state she'd been in. Her nerves had been a wreck as she'd put the last of her things from her cramped apartment into storage and boarded the train for Virginia; and that anxiety had only grown worse as the day wore on. Now, sitting and waiting for her first meeting with her new boss, she could only skim the page, her brain not wanting to settle on any particular words. What if Anthony Lang were one of those writers who turned out to be a completely arrogant jerk? It wasn't uncommon in the writing world. He'd remained largely out of the spotlight and almost never consented to interviews. His bio photo portrayed him with a kind smile, but that was just a promotional image created by a photographer and stylist who made people look nice for a living.
She wanted to believe that her boss was going to be a decent man to work for, and after the appropriate amount of time had ticked agonizingly away, she descended to the parlor to find out once and for all what the man behind her favorite books was really like.
Chapter Two
THE PARLOR WAS MUCH as one might expect a parlor in an old house to be. It was tastefully decorated, if a few decades out of date, but it suited the feel of the house and the furniture was surprisingly comfortable. Ashley sat on one of the long couches facing the main entrance and waited patiently for her new boss to arrive. She crossed one leg over the other and arranged the hem of her skirt so that it wasn't revealing too much thigh. Only after it was draping just right and she was reminding herself to maintain a
"Thank you. Oh, um, will I be meeting Mr. Lang today?" asked Ashley.
"I nearly forgot!" said Helene. "He's doing his exercises right now, so why don't you meet him in the parlor in about an hour?"
Ashley looked at the woman. She smiled and tried not to seem irritated by Helene’s assumption that she would be happy to blithely wander around the house trying to figure out where she was to meet her new boss. She opted for a questioning look instead.
"Just down the stairs; it's the double doors on your right. You can't miss it," said Helene as she exited the room.
Ashley opened the smaller of her two carryalls and removed her laptop and the neatly coiled charging cable. She hunted around for a few minutes before finally finding the only empty power outlet in the room. She was happy that the cable was long enough for her to be able to charge at her desk. A lamp that would be the one source of light in the evenings took up the other outlet, and she made a mental note to pick up a small power strip to plug in her phone charger. For now, she was happy to arrange a few of her belongings on the writing desk and bedside table. She'd unpack her clothes later as she was keen to take a few minutes to skim the work she'd done on her manuscript during the train ride.
This was the real reason she wanted to work for Anthony Lang. She'd completed two full-length novel manuscripts already, but both had been repeatedly rejected by every agent and publisher she could think of sending them to. She was doing what any self-respecting writer would do and had started working on her third book without wallowing over the first two failures. Now that she had a chance to work with a legend in the writing game, she figured she'd be able to learn a thing or two about crafting the sort of suspense tale that would finally get her noticed. It was difficult being a woman who wanted to write about political intrigue and foreign espionage, and as much as she didn't want to press Anthony to read her work and possibly share it with his agent, she did carry the small hope that he might one day take an interest in her writing.
The work she'd done that morning was rough and raw, an awkward product of the anxious state she'd been in. Her nerves had been a wreck as she'd put the last of her things from her cramped apartment into storage and boarded the train for Virginia; and that anxiety had only grown worse as the day wore on. Now, sitting and waiting for her first meeting with her new boss, she could only skim the page, her brain not wanting to settle on any particular words. What if Anthony Lang were one of those writers who turned out to be a completely arrogant jerk? It wasn't uncommon in the writing world. He'd remained largely out of the spotlight and almost never consented to interviews. His bio photo portrayed him with a kind smile, but that was just a promotional image created by a photographer and stylist who made people look nice for a living.
She wanted to believe that her boss was going to be a decent man to work for, and after the appropriate amount of time had ticked agonizingly away, she descended to the parlor to find out once and for all what the man behind her favorite books was really like.
Chapter Two
THE PARLOR WAS MUCH as one might expect a parlor in an old house to be. It was tastefully decorated, if a few decades out of date, but it suited the feel of the house and the furniture was surprisingly comfortable. Ashley sat on one of the long couches facing the main entrance and waited patiently for her new boss to arrive. She crossed one leg over the other and arranged the hem of her skirt so that it wasn't revealing too much thigh. Only after it was draping just right and she was reminding herself to maintain a
Similar Books
