Embrace (16 page)

Chapter Nineteen

              It's been nearly a month since Emma left, and while her frequent phone calls keep us connected, I miss her a little more with each day that passes. Things seem to be going really well for her and even though I am green with envy, I am also thrilled for her.

             
Her and Alec have yet to make any kind of real commitment to one another but from what Em tells me, things are going well. They talk everyday and apparently have made plans to meet up at certain tour stops along the way. Most of the details of their relationship she keeps to herself, and I am very thankful. While I may have accepted that she is kind of dating my brother, that certainly does not mean that I need to know
everything.

             
Neither one of them will say it, but I get the feeling that this thing between them, well, it's life changing. I recognize it because I am experiencing something very similar and with each day that passes, my love for Zayne grows more and more.

             
With Em gone and Carver working crazy hours, it leaves me with way too much time to myself. Becca and Jake have been amazing but I can tell, even they would like some alone time. So this last few weeks I have spent exploring the city and scoping out quiet places to write. Well, during the day anyways. Most nights I end up at Zayne's or he visits me at
Vitos
after work.

             
“Earth to Grace.” I hear Carver laugh. I shift my position on the couch and look back at him with a warm smile. I rarely see him anymore and it's ridiculous how much I miss him considering that we live together.

             
“Seems like the wheels were really turning there. Everything okay?” He asks, dropping his work bag on the floor and throwing his keys on the island.

             
“Yeah, just writing.” I say, holding up my notebook. It has pages and pages of useless notes and scribbles but I am convinced that a bestselling novel or a number one hit song is hiding in there somewhere.

             
“Anything interesting?” He asks, crossing the living room and plopping down next to me on the  couch. I close my notebook and cram it into the side of the couch before he makes a grab for it.

             
“I'm working on it.” I smack his hand away with a laugh.

             
He pouts out his lip in the most adorable way, tearing another laugh from me. “I'm not letting you read it Carv.” I say, shaking my head at him. “Besides, the pouty face only works on Em, but good try.” I say, patting his leg.

             
My phone starts ringing from its spot on the kitchen counter and for a moment, I consider ignoring it, but curiosity sets in and I push myself off the couch, grabbing my notebook before making my way quickly into the kitchen to get it before the voice mail picks up.

             
I don't recognize the number, which is not that uncommon, so I slide the screen and click answer. “Hello.”

             
“Hello. May I please speak to Grace Morgan?” A woman asks, her voice both polite and professional with a hint of southern drawl to it.

             
“This is Grace Morgan.” I say, not really sure who I am talking to.

             
“Hi Grace. My name is Hannah Bower and I work for
Fischer Literary Agency
. Is now a good time?” She asks.

             
“Yes, of course.” I try to keep my voice even but my heart suddenly feels like it's beating in my throat.

             
“Wonderful. I received a sample of your manuscript from a work colleague and I must say, I am very impressed with the material I was given. I would love to have the opportunity to read the full manuscript if you have it available.” She says.

             
I run through the proper things to say and yet I come up short. I am at a complete loss for words. She wants to consider my manuscript? This seems too good to be true. And then suddenly I realize something. I never submitted my manuscript to this agency.

             
“I'm sorry but how did you say you received my sample pages?” I ask, praying I don't come across as unappreciative or rude for that matter.

             
“The owner of
Fischer Literary Agency
, Todd Fischer, received it through a business associate. He passed it onto me yesterday and asked me to take a look at it and I must tell you Grace, I loved what I read.”

             
I know without asking any further questions that Zayne is somehow behind this. For a moment, I consider refusing to do any business with her out of sheer spite but knowing I could never walk away from an opportunity like this....

             
“I would love it if you could send me the full manuscript. You can just email it to me and hopefully I can get back to you in the next few days.” She says, her voice still chipper.

             
“Okay, yeah that would be great.” I stutter, still a bit in shock.

             
I grab my pen and notebook off of the counter next to me and quickly jot down her information. After promising to get it over to her within the next day, I hang up, still not entirely sure if that actually just happened.

             
I drop my phone on the counter and look over at Carver, who is looking at me with wide eyes and a large smile.

             
“She's interested in my manuscript.” I say slowly in disbelief. “Oh my god Carv, she's interested in my manuscript!” I say, suddenly not able to stand still.

             
I sprint into the living room and jump into his lap, my arms flying up around his neck. “I am so proud of you Gracie.” He says into my hair.

             
While I am thrilled to share this moment with Carver, there is one other person that I need to speak to. One that I am not sure if I am going to kiss or punch, that part is still up for debate.

****

              I arrive at Zayne's house just after seven, having tried his cell phone multiple times with no response. If it were any other day, I would simply wait for him to call me back but my anxiousness and nerves over this entire situation would not allow for it.

             
I need to know what he did and how.

             
I punch in the code to his front door and let myself in. Though he told me I was welcome here anytime, this is the first time I have shown up unannounced and honestly, I feel like I am trespassing or something.

             
“Zayne?” I call out, not really expecting a response so I'm not surprised when one doesn't come. He's no doubt still at the office and I knew that coming here but I am so full of energy right now, I thought maybe it would be easier to wait here. As I wander his empty apartment, I now see how wrong I was.

             
Without Carver to at least talk to, I have nothing but the eery silence to focus on until Zayne arrives home. Just as I am about to leave and come back later, I hear the lock click and the door opens. Zayne walks in, not spotting me in the shadows of the living room, throws his keys down and then pulls his phone out, scrolling through the screen.

             
A smile lights up his face and he clicks something on his phone and then holds it to his ear. Immediately my phone begins ringing in my jeans pocket and echos through the silence. We both jump simultaneously and then, realizing that I am here, he drops the phone on the counter and stalks towards me.

             
“Why are you hiding over here?” He asks, reaching out and pulling me into his arms.

             
“Sorry, I.... I didn't want to startle you.” I say, momentarily forgetting my purpose for being here and simply losing myself in his arms, his touch.

             
“I missed you.” He says, kissing my hair.

             
“I missed you.” I repeat, squeezing my arms around his lean torso.

             
“Is everything okay?” He asks, clearly not missing the fact that I never show up like this. Suddenly my irritation over the literary agency somehow getting a hold of sample pages of my manuscript comes boiling back to the surface and I push out of his embrace.

             
“How did you get a copy of my manuscript?” I ask, knowing full well that I have not given it to anyone, including Alec.

             
“What?” He asks, clearly caught off guard by my question which makes me second guess myself.

             
“A woman from
Fischer Literary Agency
called me today. Said her boss received sample pages of my manuscript through a business associate and passed them along to her.” I pause, hoping he will jump in and explain, only he doesn't. He just stands there, arms crossed in front of him with the cutest damn smile I think I have ever seen.

             
I melt a little under his loving stare but refuse to let him distract me.

             
“It was you wasn't it?” I question, my hands instinctively going to my hips, as if every woman's instinct is to do this when upset.

             
“I may have played a small part.” He admits, his smile only growing wider.

             
“How did you get a hold of my manuscript?” I ask, this time my voice showing a hint of my aggravation.

             
The thought of him seeing it, reading it, causes a sick feeling to form in the pit of my stomach. I know that someday, hopefully, I will put it out there for the world to read, but it's not ready, not by a long shot and I don't want anyone reading it until it's perfect, especially given how personal it is to me.

             
As if somehow sensing my dilemma, he takes a step back and leans against the arm of the couch. “I didn't read it if that's what you're worried about.” He says, his smile fading a bit.

             
“How did you get it?” I repeat, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

             
“I called
World Lit.
You had mentioned it was one of the places you sent your manuscript to. I talked to one of the assistants there and after some convincing, she agreed to forward the pages to me.” He says with no other explanation.

             
“And you thought this was okay because?” I ask, completely thrown off by his lack of remorse for going behind my back.

             
“I didn't want to get your hopes up. I know how badly you want this and I didn't even want to mention it until I knew for sure that something would pan out. Obviously it did?” He phrases it in a question like he doesn't already know.

             
“Obviously you know that it did.” I say, irritation evident in my voice.

             
“Actually I didn't know. Congratulations.” He says, another smile pulling up the corners of his mouth.

             
It's nearly impossible to focus when he's standing there looking at me like he wants nothing more than to end this conversation and devour me on the spot but I somehow manage to stay strong and push forward. When he sees that I am not going to just drop this, he finally decides to give me a little explanation.

             
“I talked to Todd about you during a business lunch, which, for the record, Alec started, not me. He seemed genuinely interested by what Alec had to say and so I decided to see if I could get my hands on a few pages to send him. I'm sorry that I went behind your back. But if it means that you might get a shot to follow your dreams, then I'm not sorry at all.” He says, reaching his hand out to me.

             
I can't resist the urge to go to him and collapse into his embrace. “I wanted to do this on my own.” I say into his chest. “That way, if I succeeded, I would know that I earned it.”

             
He pulls back to study my face for a beat before responding. “If you succeed, you will have earned it. I didn't write the book. I didn't force Todd or his agents to read it. And I certainly didn't make the agent that contacted you like it. All I did was open the door for you, it's up to you to make it happen once you get inside.” He says, kissing me sweetly on the tip of my nose. “Grace. You are an amazingly talented woman. You just need to believe in yourself. You can do this. And now, you have a real shot. That's all I want for you. For you to have the chance.” He says, his eyes boring deeply into mine.

             
Every ounce of the frustration I feel just melts away under his stare. I am starting to believe that there is nothing this man can't talk his way out of. And as his lips gently take mine, I realize something very important. I don't think there is anything this man wouldn't do to make me happy. And I know without a shadow of a doubt that there is nothing I wouldn't do for him in return.