Page 39 of All Too Well
Tap, tap, tap.
I bounce the pencil against the table over and over.
Tap, tap, tap.
Come on, ideas. I need you. Come to me.
Tap, tap, tap.
I stare at the screen, willing the words to magically appear, but they don’t. How the hell am I going to write a story about Lachlan and where he is now when he won’t let me interview him? I could write about what I do know, leaving out any freaking commentary from him. Which will be a boring and absolutely basic story. I could always make it more about the Ultimate Frisbee players who once were deemed the top athletes of their time. That way it could kind of be a much broader article, even though that’s totally not what my boss sent me here for.
Ugh.
I’m so going to fail.
My email pings, and I’ve never been happier to stop staring at a blank screen. Only when I see it’s from my boss, I no longer feel relief, because today I need to send him my top six angles.
I don’t even have one, so this is going to be a shitshow.
Ainsley,
I will be traveling this week and I need your storyline proposals by four.
The clock says it’s two, so ... I’m screwed.
“More coffee?” Hazel asks, coming around the partition.
“Sure. Maybe coffee will perk my brain up,” I say, holding out my cup.
She gives me a refill and then puts the pot on the counter. “Everything okay?”
“I just have two hours before I need to submit something that sounds Pulitzer winning about heroic former athletes or Frisbee.”
She lets out a soft laugh. “That doesn’t seem all that difficult.”
I drop my head on the table. “It’s impossible.”
“It can’t be that bad!” Hazel says with some gusto. “Come on, tell me what you have so far.”
I lift my head just enough to see her face. “I have nothing.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Hazel pulls the seat out across from me. “Okay, this isn’t the end of the world. You have two hours. I’ve seen writers pull things out of their ass in minutes. What usually gets your brain working?”
“Talking it out,” I admit. I’m so much better when I can think aloud, which is why I love writing in my office. Caroline is an amazing sounding board and always helps me work through the wormholes in my brain.
“Then let’s hear it.” Hazel lifts both hands.
It’s great that she wants to help, but I don’t even have a jump-off point. “I can’t give you anything because I have nothing.”
Nothing except replaying that moment when he held me against the wall. When I was an idiot and thought that maybe he was feeling the same thing I was. Once again, I’m a freaking dumbass.
“Okay, so what’s rattling around in your head? Is it the fire at the cabin that has youmessed up?”
“I wish,” I confess under my breath.
