Page 5 of You & I, Rewritten

I’ve beenawake for several hours when my alarm finally goes off.

A considerable amount of time was spent begging my overactive mind to let me sleep. But it had other plans—I tossed and turned all night as thoughts of Klair’s previous relationship and this new role and Graham’s look of confusing disapproval had me spiraling down an anxious and inescapable rabbit hole.

Ripping the warmth of the covers off like you would a band aid, I swing my legs over the edge of my bed, stretching my body and rubbing what little sleep I had out of my eyes. After slowly padding over to the bathroom, bumping into nearly everything in sight, I take stock at the disheveled mess staring back at me in the mirror. My unruly and thick sometimes-brown, sometimes-strawberry-blonde hair is sticking up in the most epic yet unintentional mohawk that I am always tempted to leave—Klair says it’s a hard pass—and the dark bags under my greenish, grayish eyes could pack a commercial 747 to the brim.Sexy.

I give the state of my body a once over. My shoulders are flecked with freckles that only get more prominent in the sun and unfortunately, I never quite grew into my lanky arms and legs. I’ve always been lean but I’m officially at that stage in my late twenties where caffeine, stress and thoughts and prayers aren’t enough to entirely ward off the consequences of late-night fast-food binges and the dessert I can never seem to say no to. As I climb into the downpour of the scalding hot shower, I make a mental note that it wouldn’t kill me to step into the gym every now and again, so I should probably look into getting a local membership.Maybe tomorrow.I rush through the remainder of my morning routine, throwing on a pair of slim navy chinos and a pale blue oxford, grab my loafers and race out of my room before my new roomie has the chance to complain about me making her late.

Klair and I have quickly settled into a routine that works for both of us. We alternate prepping dinner and setting the coffee for the next morning, loading the dishwasher and making sure our wine collection is always stocked. For as long as we’ve known one another, this is the first time we’ve ever lived together and thankfully, it’s been nothing short of amazing. If you ever get the chance to live with your best friend, do it.

But one of my favorite things about this new living situation is our shared fifteen-minute walk to work each morning where we talk about the important things in life: reality television, our interpretations of the latest Taylor Swift Easter eggs, and our dating lives.Or lack thereof.

“I think I’ve been on a tragic date with every single guy in the city…and honestly? Each one gets worse and worse,” Klair groans as we make our way into the office. Austin Publishing House is in the heart of Manhattan and despite our obnoxiously early wake up call, the city is brimming full of life as its inhabitants head in every direction to start their days.

“Wait, but what about the architect from the other night?” I ask Klair as we cross a crowded intersection.

She loops her arm through mine to avoid getting separated among the growing number of pedestrians. “I don’t know. He was nice but…”

“Excuse me, you came home smiling from ear to ear, talking about how sexy and charming he was! What do you mean youdon’t know?”

Klair rolls her eyes at me. “We’ll see…don’t start planning the wedding yet. But what about you, my sweet friend? Anyone catching your eye?” She changes the subject but despite her best efforts, can’t hide the smile plastered across her face.

I’ve only been back in the city for a few days now and truthfully, the thought of dating or even putting myself out there hasn’t even crossed my mind. Change has always been hard for me—too much of it at once tends to put me in a permanent state of nerves.No thanks.Between the move and starting this new job, I think that’s about as much change as I can handle at once.

But then Graham’s smile from the other night in the parking garage comes crashing into my thoughts. His strong gaze. The sound of his voice during our staff meeting. His tall, lean body—Woah, That doesn’t count. Obviously, he’s impossibly gorgeous and wildly successful in our career field so it’s only natural I would be drawn to that sort of…whatever that is. However, I’ve also seen him be so cold and seemingly detached from basic human empathy in the office. In such a short amount of time, I’ve already seen the toll hisdirectapproach to leadership has on the rest of the team—it’s too much, and I don’t think he even realizes. That’sdefinitelynot the energy I need or want in my life.Right?

“I think theonly thingthe two of us need to be paying attention to is making sure we aren’t late again…come on!” I say, tugging Klair along faster as we approach the steps to our building.

“Fair point…You can’t afford to have a repeat of your first day,” she says, sticking her tongue out in my direction as we step through the wide double doors of APH.

I rush to catch the closing elevator, throwing my arm between the heavy metal doors. “Um, excuse me? Whose fault was that?”

“I think webothcould have handled that differently.” Klair and I laugh as we ride the elevator to the twenty-first floor, heading into another busy day in the office and when the doors reopen, dropping us off on our floor, I check my phone to see the time.

Ten minutes to spare, thank goodness.

Fun fact: I learned rather quickly that working in a well-known publishing house is dangerous for someone who is perpetually clumsy and completely out of control of his own body’s movements at times—someone like me, because you never know who you are going to run into. Quite literally, in fact—as I have just run headfirst into one of my favorite authors of all time moments after rounding the corner from the elevator bank, nearly knocking her to the ground in the process.

“You…you’re Alexis Wingate,” I say in a much higher pitched tone than normal.Humiliation washes over me when I realize who I’m awkwardly holding on to.

“And you’re going to have to carry me to my next meeting if you don’t let go,” she says through a deep, red-lipped smile as she glances down at my hands that are firmly on either side of her arms. I rather cartoonishly drop my hands to my sides, my cheeks burning bright red as I take an overly dramatic step backward and she smooths out her chic-cut, blonde hair. Alexis is one of those exceptional talents who can bounce back and forth between writing heart-pounding and diabolical thrillers and then turn around and write tear-inducing and totally swoon-worthy romcoms—all while remaining incrediblyrealand deeply connected to her fans.

A.k.a. me, the super fan who’s keeping her from what I’m sure is a very important meeting. “I’m so sorry, Alexis…I, eh…wasn’t paying attention. I’m ahugefan. Like, I’ve read everything of yours. Um…I’m also Will. Will Cowen. Not that you needed to know that…” I should stop talking now. Is it hot in here? Just me? I’m acutely aware of the fact that Klair is standing just behind me with what I can only imagine is a far-too satisfied look on her face as she watches her starstruck friend completely bomb.

She quickly waves off my apology. “Don’t even worry about it, Will…I must have needed that shock to my system.” I could die of embarrassment. “But between you and I, I’m secretly hoping my editor also wasn’t paying attention to the latest draft I sent him. Becausewow…” It’s cute to see an icon like Alexis Wingate be this humble but there is no reality where anything she’s written isn’t perfection.

“Um…please tell me we aren’t talking aboutThe Lady of the House?Because I wouldliterallysell my soul and swear-off men for all of time to read your next book.” Good one, Will—that was a sentence you just said out loud to a literary legend.

She laughs at my awkwardness as she rummages through her oversized handbag. “Here, don’t tell Graham you got this from me,” she says, pressing a mockup of her book against my chest and I fight every urge to not jump up and down out of excitement. It doesn’t matter how long I’ve worked in this industry. When I get the chance to read something new from one of my favorite authors—especially before anyone else does, I revert right back to the younger version of myself who just discovered his obsessive love for reading.

“Alexis?” an impatient voice calls out from down the hall causing the three of our heads to simultaneously swivel. It’s no surprise that Graham, who’s clearly been waiting, is the one working with someone of her caliber. Standing in the doorway of his office, his stare is filled with annoyance, agitation and just a smidge of assholery. As much as I would love to continue fangirling over Alexis and her impeccable writing, style and overall icon status some more, inconveniencing the Ice King isn’t how I want my day to start.

“That’s my cue, Will Cowen. Be a doll and let me know what you think of chapter seventeen. It’s a little…twisted. Even for me.” she says, raising an eyebrow as she turns to meet Graham. I watch in embarrassing awe as the two of them continue down the hall toward his office.

Klair loops her arm through mine but before she has the chance to point out every which way I just completely embarrassed myself, I beat her to it. “Just don’t…I’m extremely cognizant of the train wreck that was.”

We continue down the hall arm-in-arm. “Will, I’m offended! I would never bring up how you just physically accosted a New York Times Best Selling author in the workplace and then went on and on about how obsessed you are with her.”

“Mmhmm.” I’m going to need a neck brace after the eye-roll I just gave her and as we both settle into our desks for the morning, I do my best to put the awkwardness of all ofthatout of my mind—especially the displeased expression permanently etched on Graham’s face.

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