Page 34 of The Write Midlife

Before she could talk herself out of it, she pulled out her phone and typed out a quick text:"We need to talk. Professionally.”

She hit send before she could second-guess herself, then watched as Nate pulled out his phone. His eyebrows rose as he read the message, then his eyes scanned the crowd, searching.

Their gazes locked across the busy conference hall. For a moment, it was like everyone else faded away. Nate's lips curved into a small, hopeful smile as he typed his reply.

Her phone buzzed."Absolutely. Name the time and place.”

Her mouth went dry. Not a date, she wanted to protest. A professional meeting. But as she watched Nate turn back to his conversation, a new energy in his stance, anticipation swirled in her stomach.

This conversation could change everything—her career, her relationship with Nate, her entire approach to writing.

As she headed towards the main hall for the closing keynote, she steeled her nerves. All she knew was this: she wasn’t going down without a fight. And she was starting to believe that this time, the fight would lead to something beautiful.

Time to see what surprises Nate Carlisle really had up his sleeve.

EIGHTEEN

The day after the symposium,Nate stared at his phone screen, reading Melody's text for the tenth time. Her words, "We need to talk. Professionally," glared back at him, a mix of hope and dread swirling in his stomach.

It had been nearly twenty-four hours since he sent his response: "Absolutely. Name the time and place." But there had been no reply.

The urge to double-text her was nearly nuclear.

On the verge of imploding, he started writing out a second text. Something like “Don’t make me beg.” Or the more stalker-ish “I’m not above showing up on your doorstep with an apology and a vat of the good espresso” when his office door swung open with enough force to rattle the framed publishing awards on his wall.

His father, Liam Carlisle, strode in like a storm cloud in an expensive suit.

"Nathaniel," he boomed, "we need to discuss the Archer situation."

Nate suppressed a groan. "Good morning to you too, Dad. Please, come in. Make yourself at home."

His father ignored his sarcasm, settling into the chair across from his desk. "This is no time for jokes. The board is breathing down my neck about Melody Archer's book. We need results, and we need them now."

Nate leaned back, steeling himself for the battle ahead. "I'm working on it. In fact, I just scheduled a meeting with Melody to discuss?—"

"Discuss?" his father interrupted, his eyebrows shooting up. "There's nothing to discuss. Either she makes the changes we want, or we drop her. It's that simple."

A bolt of anger burned hot and deep in Nate's chest. "It's not that simple, Dad. Melody's not just another author we can push around. Her work has integrity, depth. If we force her to change everything, we'll lose what makes her special."

"Special doesn't pay the bills, son. Like I said before, we’re running a business here, not a goddamned charity.”

Nate stood up, pacing behind his desk. "I know that. But what if there's a way to maintain Melody's voice while still making her work more…marketable?"

"And how do you propose to do that?" his father asked, skepticism dripping from every word.

"I've been researching alternative publishing models. Hybrid approaches that give authors more creative control while still meeting market demands."

"Sounds like a recipe for chaos. Next, you'll be suggesting we let the interns pick our bestsellers."

“For God’s sake, Dad," Nate said, trying to keep his voice level. "Just hear me out. What if we create a new imprint? One that focuses on unconventional, boundary-pushing fiction? We could tap into a whole new market."

For a moment, Nate saw a flicker of interest in his father's eyes. Then it was gone, replaced by his usual stern expression. "And who would run this... experimental imprint? You?"

Nate nodded. "Yes. I've got the business background, but I also understand the creative side. I could bridge the gap between art and commerce."

His father stood, straightening his tie. "I'll think about it. But in the meantime, you get Melody Archer on board with our original plan. I want a proposal on my desk by the end of the week. One that guarantees bestseller numbers, understood?"

Nate swallowed hard, nodding again. "Understood."