Can't Look Away(65)
“God. I’m so sorry. Were you close?” A beat of silence passed, and Molly immediately regretted the question. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“No, it’s okay. We were very close. We did so much together—he got me and my brother into sailing and skiing when we were little. He always stayed so active, until he couldn’t anymore.” Hunter paused. “It’s still hard. I miss him.”
“I can’t imagine.” Molly studied him, the anguish in his expression. But there was pride there, too. And respect. And fondness. She wondered what it was like to feel that way about your father.
“What about you?” Hunter asks. “Your parents are still around, I hope?”
“My mom is. She’s a nurse. Lives and works in New Jersey, where I grew up. My dad…” Molly blinked. “He left when I was young.”
Hunter’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.” Molly tapped Sinatra’s face, eager to change the subject. “So. What are you going to do with all these Life covers? Why did your dad collect them?”
“You know, I think he just liked them, the history they captured. He never really had a reason beyond that. But I do.” Hunter paused, his eyes sparkling. “One day, when I have a house, I’m going to use them to wallpaper a bathroom.”
“No way.” Molly laughed. “I’ve always wanted to do the same thing, but with old issues of The New Yorker. I have a subscription and save them all.”
“Great minds.” Hunter winked, his soft brown gaze catching hers in a way that made her stomach flip. “Should we grab a beer?” Around them, the sky was beginning to darken. “Or you probably need to get back.”
“I do, yeah.” Molly stuffed her hands inside her pockets, chewed her bottom lip. Hunter was staring at her, and he was handsome. Had he been this handsome in the coffee shop? She was having trouble distinguishing the flipping feeling in her stomach. Was it butterflies or guilt? “Jake and I have dinner plans,” she lied. “Rain check?”
“Sure.” Hunter gave a gentle smile. “Thanks for keeping me company today.”
After they parted ways, Molly practically sprinted back to the apartment, eager to fall into Jake’s arms and alleviate the feeling of distance that had cropped up in her day with Hunter—a distance she hadn’t totally minded. But when she arrived home just after six, he wasn’t there. A note lay on the counter. At the studio finishing a few things. Back by 8, then let’s figure out dinner? Love you.
This quirk of Jake’s—leaving physical notes instead of shooting a quick text—was a trait that partially frustrated Molly, but also one she found old-fashioned and endearing.
She decided to open a bottle of wine—she needed to calm down—and was deliberating between Cab and Pinot Noir when her phone began to vibrate on the kitchen counter. Bella was calling her on FaceTime, which seemed odd. They never spoke over the weekend.
“Hey, Bella.”
“Girl.” Bella’s friendly face appeared on the screen of Molly’s phone. She wore more makeup than usual behind her horn-rimmed glasses, her raven hair loose around her shoulders. “I have major news. Are you sitting down?”
“What is it?” Molly’s heart began to race inside her chest. She slid onto a counter stool—one of the cheap steel ones Jake had ordered from IKEA. “I’m sitting.”
“We got an offer.”
“Stop. Are you serious?”
“A fantastic editor—Alexis Rubio from Penguin—adores your brilliant manuscript. Now, she has a good amount of feedback, which she’s going to send you in an email on Monday. But, Molly, she loves this book as much as I do. She wants to buy it.”
“Oh my god, Bella.”
“She’s offering fifty grand for world English rights, which I know is probably le—”
“Fifty thousand dollars?”
“Yes.” There was a note of apprehension in Bella’s voice. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Molly laughed out loud, her heart light in her chest. “Bella, I teach yoga. Before that I was serving coffee. Fifty grand is a lot for me.”
“Oh.” Bella tilted her head, seeming to consider this. “Good. Well, for what it’s worth, I see us tripling or even quadrupling your advance for book two when this one blows up. Which it will.”
“Book two?”
“Hell yes. Book two, book three, book four. You’re at the start of a big career, Molly Diamond, and this is only the beginning. I’m lucky I snagged you when I did.” There was the sound of clinking glass in the background, and a man appeared at the edge of the frame beside Bella, whispering something in her ear. She turned back toward the screen, cleared her throat. “Sorry, Molly, I should run. I’m at drinks for a friend’s birthday but just saw the email from Alexis—she works around the clock—and I had to FaceTime. I’ll touch base Monday with the details.”
“Thanks, Bella.” Molly was smiling so wide, her mouth hurt. “I can’t thank you enough. This is the best phone call I’ve ever received.”
“Of course. I’ll talk to you in a couple of days. And, Molly? I’m proud of you.”