Page 61 of How to Write a Rom-Com

“Should I grab some towels?” Liam offers. Mella nods.

“There are some in the cabinet just through the kitchen,” I say as Mella shrugs and shows me a kind smile.

“We thought you were leaving this weekend. Anne said before the fourth,” Mella explains.

Ugh, Anne. “Well, as usual Anne is a terrible communicator. She has me scheduled here until the fifth,” I say, just as Liam re-enters the room with a pile of towels in his arm.

“Who is Anne?” he asks, handing me a hand towel. I reach my hand out instinctively, but as I take it from his grip, my eyes focus on him in shock.

He doesn’t know who Anne is. He doesn’t know my connection to Al and Mella. He thinks I’m just renting their house.

I can’t open my mouth fast enough. Mella beats me to it. And then it’s all over.

“My daughter-in-law. You must have met her, Liam. Penny’s wife? She’s also Lucy’s boss,” she says with a smile.

“Why would your boss have you scheduled here?” Liam asks, the furrow in his brow getting deeper by the second. He rises from his crouched position on the floor, where Blue is now rolling on the towel Liam set down for him.

It’s as if I can physically feel the blood pumping in my veins. The clench in my stomach feels like a combination of when I got caught after pushing Sydney Dana off the swings in second grade and the lurch I felt a few days ago before I puked at Cammy’s party. And yet, I’m paralyzed. My face is sunken in, my eyes wide, and I can’t undo it. I can’t speak up for myself, I can’t explain myself out of the situation. All I can do is stand by and watch the world I’ve carefully crafted over the last four weeks crumble in front of me, like a slow-motion scene in a movie.

“For Lucy’s work project?” Mella asks, looking between me and Liam. Apparently, she doesn’t sense the tension or awkwardness in the room because she keeps going. “I don’t quite get it, if I’m honest.” She winks at me. “But Anne said something about a new book? Based on Hudson Hollow?”

“I—” I stutter.

“Lucy?” Liam starts.

We’re both cut off by Blue’s explosion of energy that sends him racing into the kitchen. Liam breaks my gaze and goes after him, calling his name. “Blue, no!” he commands from the other room. I turn my attention to Al and Mella, who are looking at me like I’m a statue. Which, to their credit, I must look like right now. My hair is still dripping wet, lines of water streak down my legs, and my feet are squishing in my sneakers.

“Are you alright, dear?” Mella asks, gently placing her hand on my arm.

“Um, Lucy, what is this?” Liam calls from the kitchen. I snap my head in his direction, as he turns the corner with my notebook in his hand.

My research. Mynotes. My computer. I left it all on the bar top when I went across the street to get Blue. And now it is in Liam’s hand.

Chapter Twenty

“Al, Mella, excuse me,” Liam says in a hard voice, before turning his attention to me. “But Lucy,what the hell is all this?”

“Liam I—”

“Al,” Mella interrupts, “didn’t you say you were hungry?”

“Starving, actually,” Al murmurs.

“Me too. We’re going to run down to the restaurant for a quick bite to eat,” Mella says, practically pushing her husband out of the door.

“No, you guys don’t have to leave,” I say, breaking off from Liam’s intense stare to meet them outside the door. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a bit of a crazy day, I guess.”

Mella turns to me and places her hands over mine. “Darling, it’s okay. We’ll be back in a little bit. It’ll give you two a minute to chat,” she says with a sympathetic smile. Before I can rebut, they’re out the door, and I’m left staring at the door handle, wondering how everything has imploded so spectacularly.

“Well?” Liam presses.

When I turn around, he’s reading my notes, the character profile of the bookstore owner. And on the corresponding page is the profile for the hero—the fictitious version of him.

In a moment like this, I’d love to be able to avoid him, to hide from him, tolieto him. But that isn’t me. I stare right into his eyes.

“Can we sit?” I croak, walking past him and collapsing at the kitchen table. He follows but leans against the counter instead of sitting. For a few beats, no one speaks, and then I start the speech I’ve prepared in my head over the past few days.

“I didn’t come here to run away from a relationship. I haven’t even been in a relationship since college.” Liam shakes his head. “The truth is that Anne, my boss, sent me here for one of our authors. To outline a new series.”

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