Page 57 of The Write Midlife

"Stupid, handsome, traitorous editor," she muttered, tossing the pillow aside. "I bet he thinks he can just flash those blue eyes and I'll roll over like some starstruck groupie."

Her phone buzzed for the umpteenth time. It was probably Nate, trying to smooth things over. She ignored it, but the constant notifications were driving her crazy. Finally, she snatched it up, ready to give him a piece of her mind.

But it wasn't Nate. It was Carmen.

Melody took a deep breath and answered. "Carmen, hey. I was just about to call you."

"Melody, my love!” Carmen's voice chirped through the speaker. "I've been trying to reach you all day. Just wanted tocheck in on ya. I bet you’re still buzzing from the movie deal news, huh? Isn't it exciting?"

Melody winced. "Yeah, about that..."

She launched into a recap of her meeting with Nate and the subsequent blow-up. Carmen listened quietly, which was unusual for her. When Melody finished, Carmen let out a long sigh.

"Oh, honey. What a mess."

Melody flopped onto her couch. "Tell me about it. Carmen, please tell me I have some legal recourse here. They can't just... change my entire story without my consent, right?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Well, technically, no. Your contract with Carlisle gives you final say on creative decisions. But..."

Melody sat up straight. "But what?"

"But Hollywood can make things sticky for you. For us. These producers hold a lot of weight in this town.”

Melody's stomach dropped. "So you're saying I should just give in? Let them turn my book into some generic rom-com?"

"Not necessarily," Carmen said slowly. "But it might be worth considering a compromise. Something that maintains the core of your vision while making some concessions.”

Melody fell back onto the couch. "I don't know, Carmen. The whole point of this book was to challenge romance novel stereotypes. How can I do that if I'm pandering to Hollywood clichés?"

"I understand, sweetie. But think about it this way – even with some changes, like Nate stated, your story will still reach a much wider audience through film. Isn't that worth something?"

"I guess. But where do I draw the line? How much compromise is too much?"

"That's something only you can decide, Melody. But remember, you're in a position of power here. They want your book. Use that leverage to negotiate terms you can live with."

After hanging up with Carmen, Melody felt even more conflicted than before. She needed a second opinion, someone who knew her better than anyone. She needed Hannah.

An hour later, Melody was sitting in Hannah's cozy living room, nursing a glass of wine—stolen from Marco’s cooking class Cucina Bella, of course, and pouring her not-yet-drunken heart out. Hannah listened attentively, occasionally offering sympathetic nods or outraged gasps at all the right moments.

"...and then I stormed out.”

“What’s that, like, the thousandth time you’ve done that on Nate?"

“Thousand and one,” Melody finished, taking a large gulp of wine. "God, Hannah, what am I going to do?"

Hannah leaned back. "Well, first of all, I think we need to address the elephant in the room."

“And what elephant is that?”

“The fact that you're completely out-of-your-mind, no-turning-back hot for your editor."

Melody choked on her wine. "What? I am not!"

“Don’t even give me that. We’ve been over this a million times already. You and I both know that every time you talk about Nate, you get this look in your eyes. Like you can't decide whether you want to kiss him or kill him."

Melody felt her cheeks burning. "That's... that's not relevant to the situation at hand."

"Isn't it? Because it seems to me that a lot of your anger stems from feeling betrayed by someone you care about. Someone you trusted."