Page 60 of All For You

“Shall I turn it off?” I asked.

“No. I’m not going to let him ruin yet another movie for me. He didn’t want me, and I have to accept that.”

“Maybe if William took on his brother’s opinion that easily, you don’t want him anyway,” I said. Every time I replayed Darcy’s and my argument at the Amor Inn, I felt more confused in the aftermath, going back and forth for a week now. I thought I truly needed time away from him to think about how he’d influenced his brother against my sister. But he was always on my mind. I wondered if I’d acted harshly in the moment since he’d claimed to only have suggested Wills take his time. But thenI remembered how he thought so poorly of my sister, and that sat badly with me.

I could tell from Jane’s tense face that my words didn’t help.

“He accepted his brother’s opinion because family is everything to him and he’s so trusting.” She tugged at her sleeve.

Like Jane.

“I could tell that chap was no good,” Mum said from her perch on the couch arm.

What was Mum dressed as? She’d clearly cobbled together a costume at the last minute, as she often did to save money. She was wearing a sausage body with two round pillows strapped around her hips and a lampshade on her head.

Oh God. No. Really?

Was she dressed as a…penis?

I couldn’t help but think about what Darcy would say. He’d have a field day. I should probably be horrified about her costume, but instead, a smile bubbled through me. Afondsmile.Say what you like about my mother, she does what it takes to get the gig.

Mum wiggled her body to get more comfortable. “All the looks, all the money in the world, can’t buy good character. You’re well rid of those brothers.”

Maybe Mum was right. I should be relieved, but I still missed him and was thinking about him.

“And yet, in the not too-distant past, we were to slap our bums raw to attract their attention,” I murmured to Jane.

Jane gave a pained but slightly amused chuckle, and I counted it a small victory.

Mum hadn’t heard. Her headlamp bobbing, her pillows bunched around her, she randomly guessed the murderer on the TV show, calling it out to the detective actor.

“I have a party to lead.” Mum sighed when we got to the commercial break. As abruptly as she’d entered, she stood up and headed out, her lampshade wobbling.

After the door banged shut, Jane turned to me. “Was she a…male member?”

“Yes,” I answered. “I think so.”

Both of us bent over laughing, and I counted that a big victory where Jane was concerned. The only victory I needed was to write good material.

After Jane left, jaw firm, I marched to my bedroom. I would lock myself in until I had three good chapters.

The next day,I glanced at the pages I’d written. My inner pep talk had worked. I’d finally nailed the plot, mood, romantic tension. And I still had a week until my deadline with my publishers was up! I couldn’t wait to get these chapters to Charlie—or see her face when she finished reading. But I had to get Oodles to the vet for his lagging energy.

[email protected]: Charlie, attached find the first three chapters. See what you think!

I sighed with satisfaction as I pressed Send. Then I clipped Oodles into his leash to head to the vet’s. It was a beautiful Cotswolds day outside, vivid blue skies, browning leaves thinking about falling but still clinging on gratefully. And better, I’d written three uplifting, fun scenes set in a nearby enchanting estate I knew inside out.

This past week hadn’t been easy, to say the least. My first writing efforts after the Amor Inn weekend had been abysmal.So shell-shocked and angry, I had felt my fingers quiver as they hovered over the keyboard.Thatmanthatman,I typed out in a crazed mantra. Both my characters, Thomas and Peony, had been filled with rage rather than friendship, and that hadn’t worked.

But this morning, I’d reopened my laptop and made a vow to myself. That man was not going to spoil my writing. Darcy reminded me that love sucked, but that wasn’t going to bleed into my work. I wouldn’t give that man the satisfaction; I had too much at stake with this next book. My readers had waited so long that this next story had to reward their patience and satisfy their expectations.

Instead of giving in to my frustration and fury, I made this new version of Thomas a man who loved Peony and had nothing but good things to say about her. He was charmed by how she played the piano with enthusiasm but mediocre skill, he understood that she didn’t like horseback riding and instead drove her everywhere in his phaeton, he admired how she spent all day arranging pearls in her lovely brown hair. In return, Peony knew he was a good, kind man, and their friendship led to a peaceful, restoring love and an alliance that made everyone in the family happy.

Oodles barked and drew me out of my reverie, keen to head out the door. The vet’s, yes.

On the drive to Knightley’s office in my little EV, the hopefulness I felt from my new pages buoyed my mood. I was pulling into Knightley’s car park when my phone boomed with a bassy ringtone, the theme fromCall My Agent!Charlie. Had she already read my first chapters? Page-turner!

From his perch in the back seat, Oodles scratched impatiently at the door, recognizing where we were now. He loved Knightley with an epic adoration, but talking to Charlie was important.