Read Online Midnight At Tiffany's by Sarah Morgan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sarah Morgan
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to Mandy, who will be your editor. Do you have an agent?”
“An—” Matilda stared at him.
Agent?
“Are you saying you’ll publish it?”
“Definitely. I didn’t mention that?” He looked vague and distracted. “As you correctly identified in your cover note, it’s perfect for our romance line, Bliss. I predict readers will fall in love with Lara. She’s an interesting, layered character. I loved the mix of strength and humor. Quite a woman.”
“Yes. She is.” Matilda sat there, reflecting on the irony of feeling jealous of a character you’d created yourself. Maybe if she were more like Lara she would have had the courage to answer Chase’s email asking her for her address. She would have pointed out that what they’d shared wasn’t real, and she’d rather keep it as an amazing memory than have it end badly when he realized the truth about her.
“We’ll sort out the details in due course, but in the meantime, congratulations. You’ll be an exciting addition to our list.” He hesitated. “How well do you know my brother?”
Matilda thought about the night they’d shared, about the confidences and the intimacy. “I know him quite well,” she said quietly. “Why?”
“Because he sent a note with the manuscript and asked me to hand it to you if I saw you. I thought that was a little strange. Have the two of you fallen out? Have you changed your address or something?”
“No. It’s … complicated. You said you have a note?” Herheart thudded against her chest. There was no harm in reading a note, was there? “Do you have it?”
He handed it over, a curious smile on his face. “He addressed it to Lara, your heroine. I presume that is some sort of private joke.”
“Yes.” Her mouth dry, she scanned the bold handwriting on the envelope. “Private joke.”
“If you know him well, then you probably know that my brother and I lost touch a few years ago. Just one of those family things. Thanks to you and this manuscript, we’re back in touch.”
“I’m glad.” And she was. She really was. Chase needed people in his life he could trust. People who cared about him for who he was, not for what he was.
Clutching the note, she stood up and picked up her bag.
Brett Adams looked at her expectantly. “Aren’t you going to read it?”
“Later.” It was too precious to read in public. She needed to be somewhere private in case she made a fool of herself. She knew that even the envelope was something she was going to keep forever. A reminder. A memory of a single amazing night when reality and fantasy had merged.
The next hour passed in a whirl of excitement as she met her editor, discussed ideas for the next book and agreed to a deadline. By the time she finally stepped out of the door into the sunshine, her head was spinning.
She was going to be published.
She was a published author.
And it was all thanks to Chase.
It was a bittersweet moment to think that he was the one who had made her dream come true. He’d done that for her.
Finally, hands shaking, she opened the note.
There were just three words, written in the same bold, black scrawl as the envelope.
Midnight at Tiffany’s.
CHAPTER EIGHT
W OULD SHE COME?
Probably not, but that didn’t stop him pacing outside Tiffany’s every night like a desperate, discarded lover.
He glanced at the store and gave a humorless laugh. They probably thought he was casing the joint. He half expected to be arrested.
Brett had assured him that he’d handed the note to her personally, but that didn’t mean she’d come.
Midnight at Tiffany’s.
He could have written her a note saying “call me at the office,” but he knew that would have intimidated her.
She’d found the courage to speak to him when she’d desperately wanted to contact his brother, but did she have the courage to speak to him when the interaction was more personal?
He hoped so.
This was a place she knew and loved. He hoped she’d come.
And then he felt a
“An—” Matilda stared at him.
Agent?
“Are you saying you’ll publish it?”
“Definitely. I didn’t mention that?” He looked vague and distracted. “As you correctly identified in your cover note, it’s perfect for our romance line, Bliss. I predict readers will fall in love with Lara. She’s an interesting, layered character. I loved the mix of strength and humor. Quite a woman.”
“Yes. She is.” Matilda sat there, reflecting on the irony of feeling jealous of a character you’d created yourself. Maybe if she were more like Lara she would have had the courage to answer Chase’s email asking her for her address. She would have pointed out that what they’d shared wasn’t real, and she’d rather keep it as an amazing memory than have it end badly when he realized the truth about her.
“We’ll sort out the details in due course, but in the meantime, congratulations. You’ll be an exciting addition to our list.” He hesitated. “How well do you know my brother?”
Matilda thought about the night they’d shared, about the confidences and the intimacy. “I know him quite well,” she said quietly. “Why?”
“Because he sent a note with the manuscript and asked me to hand it to you if I saw you. I thought that was a little strange. Have the two of you fallen out? Have you changed your address or something?”
“No. It’s … complicated. You said you have a note?” Herheart thudded against her chest. There was no harm in reading a note, was there? “Do you have it?”
He handed it over, a curious smile on his face. “He addressed it to Lara, your heroine. I presume that is some sort of private joke.”
“Yes.” Her mouth dry, she scanned the bold handwriting on the envelope. “Private joke.”
“If you know him well, then you probably know that my brother and I lost touch a few years ago. Just one of those family things. Thanks to you and this manuscript, we’re back in touch.”
“I’m glad.” And she was. She really was. Chase needed people in his life he could trust. People who cared about him for who he was, not for what he was.
Clutching the note, she stood up and picked up her bag.
Brett Adams looked at her expectantly. “Aren’t you going to read it?”
“Later.” It was too precious to read in public. She needed to be somewhere private in case she made a fool of herself. She knew that even the envelope was something she was going to keep forever. A reminder. A memory of a single amazing night when reality and fantasy had merged.
The next hour passed in a whirl of excitement as she met her editor, discussed ideas for the next book and agreed to a deadline. By the time she finally stepped out of the door into the sunshine, her head was spinning.
She was going to be published.
She was a published author.
And it was all thanks to Chase.
It was a bittersweet moment to think that he was the one who had made her dream come true. He’d done that for her.
Finally, hands shaking, she opened the note.
There were just three words, written in the same bold, black scrawl as the envelope.
Midnight at Tiffany’s.
CHAPTER EIGHT
W OULD SHE COME?
Probably not, but that didn’t stop him pacing outside Tiffany’s every night like a desperate, discarded lover.
He glanced at the store and gave a humorless laugh. They probably thought he was casing the joint. He half expected to be arrested.
Brett had assured him that he’d handed the note to her personally, but that didn’t mean she’d come.
Midnight at Tiffany’s.
He could have written her a note saying “call me at the office,” but he knew that would have intimidated her.
She’d found the courage to speak to him when she’d desperately wanted to contact his brother, but did she have the courage to speak to him when the interaction was more personal?
He hoped so.
This was a place she knew and loved. He hoped she’d come.
And then he felt a
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