Ross POV
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New York City by day is slightly less chaotic, but only marginally. There's still a large amount of people walking through the streets, mostly tourists as I grasp the brown leather bound folder into my jacket and walk myself through town.
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If only I think to myself ironically as I walk with a coffee in one hand and the book in my other, life were as simple as falling in love like it is in a book. The pages I have written that nobody knows about. The novel of a perfect love, one that consumes the protagonist. Should my life have been as easy as writing it all down I would be married by now I think idly as I push the glass door open to a large multi storey building where my appointment with an agent is taking place.
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The invite had been extended to me after an editor had briefly read a few pages of my chapters, declaring that it was utterly un-put-down-able and emotionally deep. The book has been a work in progress since the end of my first year at university. Taylor and I had coffee, and these ideas flirted through my brain compelling me to make use of my thoughts and write them down. Countless nights spent before the fire in my house in California writing has come into fruition.
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It's not autobiographical, I mean it would be if she had decided that I was the man for her. However the events within the pages I have composed directly relate to the wonderings of my mind, the opportunities we could have seized. The what could have beens turned into a reality of sorts through different names in a book.
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Essentially this is Taylor's book, and even though it does not relate to her actual life and choices it is however my imaginings of our lives. It wasn't hard to paint her in a positive light, the beauty and her many talents.
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Walking over to the desk I catch eyes with the middle aged woman behind it peeking her eyes over the top of the counter. She is reading a book. Perhaps one taken from the many bookcases around the room.
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"Good morning" I greet her and she smiles warmly placing the book down on the counter as I notice that she is reading some romance novel.
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"Morning" she smiles looking up at me patiently. She places a pair of specs on and taps away at her computer.
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"Appointment let me guess Ross is it?" She asks and I nod along.
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"Will not keep you waiting too long" she says holding a phone to her ear before gesturing for me to take a seat on one of the leather armchairs. Placing my coffee cup down on the small table I browse the book cases finding that I know most of the books and have read them all.
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Stacks upon stacks of novels laid before me on wooden shelves all of them stories that I know and love. From authors that have informed and influenced my own practise as a writer. I leaf through a copy of Austen and smile thinking about Taylor's obsession with her writing.
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"Ross" a female voice calls as I spin around with the book in my hand. A small lady with blonde hair, wearing a knitted vest and an a line skirt. Covered in plaid print as she smiles and I walk over with the book still in my hands. I would place her age at around forty. The smile lines on her face only add to her character.
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"Lovely to meet you my name is Amie” she begins shaking my hand first before she gestures that we head into one of the smaller meeting rooms.
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“I’ll be suggesting a few ideas for you this morning and working you up to submitting your book if that’s how you would like to proceed” she explains as her blonde ponytail swishes from side to side and I follow her down the small corridor. Spotlighting highlights the wooden floor and she opens up a small office door. Her desk is full of papers, an old fashioned typewriter and a book light. The large ebony structure stood by the window so that she can occasionally glance up and look out of her blinds at the city. On the far wall are wooden bookcases and in the centre of the room are two sofas facing one another for meetings.
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Aimee retrieves a host of papers from her desk and takes a seat on the cream sofa opposite mine. She crosses her legs delicately before placing the manuscript of my entire book down on the table separating us. A vase of tulips and a few business cards set to the side.
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“Now I love the premise. The undying love. And a snapshot of a perfect life, however I’ve made notes” she begins flicking through pages.
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“And of course this is your book my notes are but suggestions. I’m just adding a perspective that might interest you and also in turn interest more buyers” she says as I nod along.
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“They are suggestions that won’t deviate from your ending. Adding in more dialogue. You’re clearly a poet and the long prose is absolutely stunning” she adds her eyes widening as she glances over her notes.
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“Here” she says handing me the manuscript as I flick through the pages enjoying reading another person’s perspective more than I had ever imagined that I would. Her ideas are compelling.
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“You loved this woman” she says as my eyes flick up from the pages. A smile on my face as I look out over at the city skyline. The sun shining over the silver buildings, builders beginning to set up for their day and taxis swirling down the lanes beneath them.
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“I realise I love the version of her that I have created” I say softly and she nods.
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“She’s the perfect protagonist, her representation of a strong female is brilliant. I mean she isn’t just a sap. Have you changed her name?” She laughs slightly nervously and I smile.
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“I have yes. Only she will know it’s her” I inform
Aimee and she nods.
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“A true romantic” she says standing and heading over to her desk. Taking a seat as the sun swirls over the building tops and she clicks away at her keyboard.
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“Thank-you” I tell her standing and placing the edited version of my manuscript in my leather bound folder. I had brought along the second instalment to my novel and I take it out of the folder before laying it down on her desk. Her eyes flick over the sheets inquisitively.
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“It’s book two already” she exclaims clapping her hands.
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“It’s book two” I say softly as she eyes the paper hungrily and sets it down on the desk.
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“Wonderful, I’ll read it tonight” she smiles up at me before I leave. Pacing over to the wooden doors and telling myself that my next stop is a coffee shop to work over these edits.
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“Oh and Ross” she says as I turn my head.
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“Fabulous work” she smiles as I thank her before leaving.
