Page 81 of A Novel Summer
Before Colleen could respond, Hunter passed her the phone. Shelby took a breath, then faced Colleen through the screen.
“I really don’t have the energy for this,” Colleen said. Her blond hair was up in a ponytail and her face was puffy. “Put Hunter back on.”
Shelby hesitated. She didn’t want to stress her out, but the only way to alleviate her worry was to push forward with the conversation. “Okay. But one thing first: I’m not publishing the novel.”
Colleen frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I told my agent I’m scrapping the book. You’re more important to me.”
“Wait. Are you serious?”
Shelby felt a weight lift, as if she’d been holding her breath for the past week and just now exhaled. “I just hope you’ll forgive me and forget about all this and enjoy being a new mom.” Beside her, Hunter reached out and touched her shoulder.
After a second or two of silence, Colleen said, “That means a lot to me, Shelby.”
Shelby felt a lump in her chest. She didn’t know if it was relief, or the intensity of the call, or lingering terror at what she was doing to her career.
All she could do was hand the phone back to Hunter.
Hunter lay in bed wide-awake. The click and hum of nocturnal insects in the tall beach grass outside her bedroom window was usually enough to lull her to sleep. Well, that and a few drinks. But she was wide-awake hours after saying good night to Shelby.
There was no reason for her mind to be racing so much. Colleen was happy that Shelby was pulling her book. And Shelby seemed to be in a forgiving mood herself; maybe they’d be able to move past the Anders Fleming fiasco after all.
Now all she had to do was figure out her job situation. It shouldn’t be that hard, especially compared to what Shelby just did with her own career. Hunter had to give her credit for a very gutsy move.
She hated to admit it, but seeing Shelby’s sacrifice she realized that personally, she made her own major life decisions out of fear. Fear of people using her for her parents’ money. Fear of never accomplishing anything on her own because so much had been handed to her. Fear of failure. Fear of relationships.
But she’d never been afraid of her friendships with Shelby and Colleen. That was why the character inSecrets of Summerhad stung so much. She felt exposed by one of the few people she trusted. But now, seeing how Colleen reacted to the new novel, she realized she’d actually been most upset with herself. Shelby’s character had reflected herself back at her, and she didn’t like what she’d seen.
At close to midnight, she gave up on sleep and padded down the hall to Shelby’s room. She opened the door slowly.
“Shelby?” she called out softly. The window shade wasn’t entirely drawn and moonlight cast a wide beam across the hardwood floor.
“Mmmm,” Shelby said.
“Are you awake?”
She heard sheets rustling around and could see in the shadows that Shelby sat up.
“Sort of.”
Hunter climbed into the king-size bed next to her. After being college roommates for four years, the right to wake each other up in the middle of the night was baked into their relationship. The room was cooler than her own. She shivered under the whir of the overhead fan, and folded the edge of the comforter so it covered her bare legs.
“I have a job interview on Monday,” she said.
“Where?”
“Paragon agency. I’m not sure about it. I don’t think I belong in New York.”
Shelby shifted position, lying back down. “I don’t belong anywhere. Sometimes you just have to go where you need to go.”
Hunter considered this. Shelby was quiet, and Hunter thought maybe she’d fallen back to sleep. But then Shelby said, “You’ll do great. You can stay at my apartment if you don’t want to go back and forth.”
“Really?” Hunter said. “Okay, thanks. And you can stay here. We can house-swap. Just like in a movie.” The idea of it made her feel buoyant, like her job interview was less of a solitary venture. Shelby would be waiting for her when she got back. They could analyze it and gossip about the people she’d meet. Even if she didn’t get the job, she’d have a story to share.
She felt less afraid already.
“Shelby, I missed you these past few years.”
