Dear Adam (42 page)

He would never fail to take her in his arms
and gently say, “I am here, and here I will stay. I love you,
Edie.”

Perhaps in time it will fade, this need to be
reassured that Adam was real, sailed through storms, and crossed
thousands of miles to be with her. But the need to hear him say he
loved her – that will never fade.

“
All this mystery, what is
it for, I wonder?” he now mused out loud as they rode up the
building’s elevator.

She held a finger to her lips and shook her
head.

They got out at the ninth floor and stepped
into a spacious reception area.

Eden turned to Adam. “Can you guess where we
are yet?” She was dancing with excitement.

Adam looked around. “An office.”

Eden pointed to the reception counter, which
had a large, dark cutout of a bird on the front.

“
This is where we first
met, Adam. A year ago today. We’re in Twitter.”

“
Ah, so we are.” A smile
tugged at the corners of his lips. Eden’s excitement
fizzled.

“
You forgot our
anniversary, didn’t you?”

“
That’s not true at all.”
He motioned to the man behind the counter, who came around the
front bearing a silver platter with an opened bottle of champagne
and two crystal flutes. “I didn’t forget a thing.”

“
You knew all along? I can
never surprise you.”

“
Again, not true. You
surprise me every day. You exist and you love me. No one’s more
surprised than I am.”

Dear Reader,

If you are satisfied with
the ending you have just read, please go no further. What follows
is a chapter which may or may not ruin your enjoyment of
Dear Adam
.

Sincerely,

The Author

Epilogue

“
Have you got video on your
end?” Ollie asked.

Evelyn’s laptop screen was black for a moment
and then Ollie appeared. His curly, black hair had only gotten
bigger since they last Skyped, and his beard was bushier. He was
wearing horn-rimmed glasses for tonight’s call. It was his way of
trying to appear more distinguished, more “editorial.”

“
Hey, yeah, there you are.
Can you see me?”

“
Yes. You’re looking
beautiful tonight, Miss Evelyn.” Ollie’s eyes twinkled.

“
You’re flattering me. Does
that mean that you don’t like
Dear
Adam
?”

“
Evelyn, as your friend
slash editor, am I not allowed to shower you with compliments? And
it’s not flattery, it’s the truth.”

“
You hate it.”

Ollie stuck out his tongue.

“
Well?”

“
Oh, okay. I’ve worked on
three books with you, I should know by now that you get grumpy when
it comes time for feedback. And try not to look so worried, you’re
making me anxious.”

“
I think I liked it better
when we just e-mailed and talked on the phone. Why are we video
Skyping again?”

“
Because I like being able
to look at you, isn’t that reason enough?”

“
Ollie,” Evelyn said,
distressed. His face was serious for a moment then broke into a
smile.

“
Relax, relax. I know.
You’re still not over Adam, conflict of interest, etc.,
etc.”

“
Right about the conflict
of interest. Wrong about Adam. I am over him,” she said
firmly.

Ollie raised his galley
draft of
Dear Adam
in front of the screen. There were hundreds of tabs and sticky
notes. She groaned. Lots of changes.

“
Sure you’re over him.
That’s why you wrote a whole book about your love
affair.”

“
Most of the book was about
our love affair. The rest was pure imagination fueled by wishful
thinking and wild conjecture. Are you going to tell me what you
think or not?”

“
I think it’s
My Dinner with Andre
for
The Notebook
generation.”

“
So it’s too
wordy?”

“
It’s like …
Godot Shows Up
.” Ollie
smiled.

Evelyn glared at him.

“
Okay. It’s good. Better
than good.” Ollie may pay her extravagant compliments, but he was
temperate when he spoke about her work, which was why she trusted
him as her editor.

Evelyn sighed with relief. She was
temporarily switching genres, going from writing fantasy to
contemporary romance, and she wasn’t sure if she could pull it
off.

“
Very different from what
I’m used to seeing with you, very different from the
League of Librarians
series.
Dear Adam
proves that you’ve got range and versatility. Now, before
launching into my edits-“

“
Proposed
edits.”

Ollie chuckled. “The battle begins, I see.
Before I get into the nuts and bolts, may I ask how much is true
and how much is made up?”

“
Easy. Everything before
the middle of Chapter 17 is true, with some details changed. My
name obviously, for one, and Danny’s name, too. Vivian wanted me to
keep her name the same though.” Eden chuckled.

“
Why didn’t you change
Adam’s name?”

“
You’re assuming he gave me
his real name. The overwhelming odds are in favor of that being
false as well. After all, the private detective I hired couldn’t
find any trace of him.”

“
None?’

“
The detective couldn’t
find him among the 67 Adam Carters born in or around the birth date
I provided. He might as well have called himself John Smith. I gave
the detective every scrap of information I had, every hunch. I
pored through all the e-mails and messages, wrote down everything I
remembered. The detective still couldn’t find anything promising.
Even if Adam Carter is his real name, he would have made sure that
all records, all traces of him disappeared. His fanaticism for
privacy was very authentic, I assure you.”

“
Which leads me to my next
question,” Ollie said slowly. He was fiddling with his glasses so
that meant he was about to get into a troublesome topic. “Uh, what
if he reads this book and sues you for libel? Or breach of privacy?
You’re making his private e-mails public.”

“
First of all, Ollie, there
is no way he could possibly know I’m publishing this. He doesn’t
even know about the three books I’ve already published since we
broke up. I’m writing under my pseudonym, E.A, Valfiero, which he
knows nothing about. Even my family doesn’t know about it. Second,
contemporary romance and fantasy are like nonentities to him.
Third, this one will be self-published, just like my other books.
It won’t even cross Adam’s radar. He’s strictly New York Times,
London Review, traditional publishing. So it would a freakish fluke
if he even lays eyes on
Dear
Adam
.”

“
You know I’ve heard of
people like that!” Ollie said in mock surprise. “Every time they
say self-published books aren’t real, a self-published author falls
over, dead of a broken heart.”

“
Yes, he’s a bit of snob.
I’m glad I never showed him any of my writing. As for the libel
part – it’s a novel, it’s presumed to be fiction. Breach of privacy
– well, technically, he gave me the e-mails so they’re
mine.”

“
That’s some excellent,
pseudo-lawyerly analysis which I doubt will hold up on
Law and Order
, let alone
in court.”

“
Let him take me to court
then! At least I’d finally get to see what he looks like. It would
be worth it.”

“
Seriously though, I have
to put on my editor hat now and tell you that you should be
prepared for the possibility, however slim, that he might come
across it. How are you going to handle that? What if he tries to
get you to pull the book from publication? For someone who’s as
private as Adam, this book is going to infuriate him.”

Evelyn laughed. It wasn’t a merry sound. “He
should have known better than to mess with a writer. He gave me
fiction, so I wrote a novel.”

“
You’ve been dying to say
that, haven’t you?”

Evelyn laughed a real laugh this time. “You
know me so well. I have to think of my withering retorts ahead of
time before I’m in a confrontation.” It was one of her favorite
daydreams, wherein she and Adam were face-to-face. Only try as she
could she couldn’t imagine what his face would actually look like.
She would be proud and unyielding, even against his fury. He would
be silenced by her brilliant comebacks and fall to his knees,
overcome with remorse.

“
Although,” Evelyn said,
wistful, “I suppose it can be said that if it weren’t for Adam, I
wouldn’t have found the courage to put my books out there. He’s the
one who got me thinking about it. Polishing and editing the
League of Librarians
helped me through the dark months. I would have drowned in
depression otherwise. And writing
Dear
Adam
has been therapeutic. I wanted a
universe where he was who he said he was and everything he told me
or didn’t tell me was for a good reason. I got to live in that
universe for a few months and now I’m over him and I can move
on.”

“
And let’s not forget, if
you hadn’t needed an editor for your series, we wouldn’t have met.
So I guess I have Adam to thank for our friendship! Happy six-month
anniversary of the first time we ever talked!”

Evelyn laughed. “Ollie, you’re the
sweetest.”

“
Awwww.” Ollie batted his
eyelashes. “By the way, I thought you said you were going to put me
in your next book. Unless you patterned Jack after me.”

“
Jack? Tall, dashing,
devilishly handsome Jack? Of course!”

“
I was kinda hoping you
were going to put me in as a serious contender for Eden’s
affections.” Ollie had the hopeful look on his face which twisted
Evelyn’s heart every time she saw it. “You know, the nice guy who’s
crazy about her and supports her in every way, who’s willing to fly
from New York to California for her if she ever invited him
over.”

“
Ollie,” she said quietly.
It pained her to hear it in his voice when they talked on the
phone, even worse to see it on his face. She shook her head and
smiled a small smile at her friend. “My books are strictly in the
no-love-triangle zone.”

“
Hehe, right. Zero
tolerance for overused tropes.”

“
But you are going to be in
the next
League of
Librarians
. You’ll be the newest member.
Quirky, charming, and most beloved.”

“
Wait, most beloved. I
don’t like the sound of that. Are you going to do a George Martin
on me? A man in a refrigerator?”

“
I’m afraid so. Make the
readers fall in love with you and then have you be cruelly murdered
as a complete and utter surprise for maximum pathos. It will
galvanize the League and unify them in a single noble purpose – to
avenge your death.”

“
As long as there is much
hand-wringing and tearing of hair.”

“
The tragic loss of you
will be felt for at least two, no three, more books! And I will let
you have free rein with the editing of your death scene. How about
that?”

“
Free rein? I’ve never had
that before!”

“
Just don’t go mad with
power.”

“
Alright.” Ollie brought
his hands together and rubbed them. It was time for work. “Ready to
tackle
Dear Adam
?”

“
Ready.”

“
Let’s start with the
biggest issue, at least as I see it. The second-to-last scene.” He
raised a hand when he saw she was about to protest. “Wait, hear me
out first, okay? Remember what we talked about? Listen with an open
mind, then discussion.”

She shut her mouth and waved him to go
on.

“
I know this is
contemporary romance so there are certain conventions, foremost
being the guarantee of a happy ending. But the character of Adam
you’ve described throughout the book, I feel, would never fly Eden
out to Paris and rent out an entire restaurant for their first
meeting. It just seems completely out of character. He’d do
something more low key, something subtle. Not ostentatious like
that. I think you can pull off a happy ending that’s truer to his
character.”

“
May I present my rebuttal
now?”

“
You have the floor,
counselor.”

“
I agree. It is over the
top. It is flamboyant. And it is something the real Adam would
never do. But up to this point, Eden has suffered. The readers have
suffered with her. The payoff has to be huge. She’s earned her
happy ending and so have the readers. For Adam’s first appearance,
nothing short of a spectacular fairy tale would do. To just have
him show up out of the blue, after I’ve been crying my eyes out for
months, knock on my door, and say, “Hey, here I am,” isn’t enough.
Not after all I’ve been through.”

“
Not after all Eden’s been
through, you mean.”

“
That’s what I
said.”