Surfside Sisters(40)

Keely’s heart skipped a beat. “You do?”

“Keely. Listen. This doesn’t happen very often. This is like a lightning bolt! Ransome & Hawkmore Publishing loves Rich Girl. They’re making a low six-figure offer—I might be able to inch them up a little—and they want you to come in and meet with them. Keely? Are you there?”

“I’m…I’m here. Wow. This is…”

Sally changed to business mode. “So. How soon can you come in? We’ve got a lot to talk about. Can you fly in tomorrow? You’ll want to stay for a few days.”

“Well, my jobs…I guess, but I guess I can take some time off—”

“Keely, did you hear what I said? They’re making a low six-figure, two-book contract—I might be able to inch them up a little.”

Keely couldn’t breathe.

    “You’re good for that, right? You’ve got another book or two in you?”

Deep breaths, deep breaths, Keely told herself. She choked out, “Absolutely.”

“Okay, then, book a flight and let me know when you’ll be here.”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll get back to you right away.”

When the call ended, Keely didn’t move. Couldn’t. It was as if one twitch of her hand would disturb the universe around her, this universe so suddenly kind.

At last she took a deep breath. She stood up, and walked into the kitchen.

“Mom, I’m going to have a book published.”

Eloise was slicing a lemon. “What?”

“I’m going to have a book published. Rich Girl. Sally Hazlitt, my agent, just called me. I have to go to New York.”

Eloise gaped at Keely as if she were a puzzle. “I don’t understand. You’re going to have a book published?”

“Yes. A novel. I told you about it, you know I’ve been writing. I told you about Sally Hazlitt. She just called to say Ransome & Hawkmore are going to publish it.”

“This is amazing.”

“I know,” Keely agreed.

Eloise dried her hands on a towel and wrapped her arms around Keely. “I’m so proud of you. I’m so glad for you.”

“I wish Dad were here,” Keely said quietly, hugging her mother close. “I wish he knew.”

“Maybe he does,” Eloise said.

“I’m taking you out to dinner!” Keely said. “We need to celebrate.”

“Darling, could we order in? I’ve got to work tomorrow and I’m exhausted.”

“Sure. Absolutely.” Keely’s mind was spinning. “But let’s open a bottle of champagne, okay?”

“Will prosecco do?”

    “Fine.” She followed her mother into the kitchen and while Eloise got down the flutes, Keely dug around inside the refrigerator to find an unopened bottle of prosecco.

Keely opened the wine and poured.

“Here’s to you, my novelist daughter!”

They clicked glasses and drank.

“I’ve got to make plane reservations for tomorrow,” Keely said. “Where’s my phone?”

“Have you told Tommy? Have you called Isabelle?”

Keely paused. “I’ll call Tommy. I don’t want to tell Isabelle yet. I don’t know why. I guess it doesn’t seem quite real.”

“Ask Tommy over to celebrate,” Eloise suggested.

“It’s his poker night. Sacred. And I’ve got to let this sink in…I think I’m dreaming.”

While Keely made the flight and hotel reservations, Eloise called Sophie T’s for two Greek salads and one small anchovy and artichoke pizza. As always, they put the salads in bowls and the pizza on plates, but Keely discovered she had no appetite.

“I’m too excited to eat,” she told her mother. “I’m nervous about what to wear in the city tomorrow. I’ve got to check on my clothes.”

“In that case, I’ll eat the entire pizza,” her mother said, with a grin.

Keely whirled around in her room, pulling out three “good black dresses,” trying them, finding her best heels, choosing a bag, digging out a small suitcase. She found her travel bag and filled it with toothpaste and brush, dental floss—where was her small jar of face cream? She couldn’t find it! And her Jo Malone perfume that Tommy had given her for Christmas? It had disappeared, too! Her hands were shaking, her thoughts running on top of each other and falling into a void, like lemmings off a cliff.

Her cell rang. Isabelle.

Should she tell Isabelle? How could she not tell her? Isabelle was her best friend. And now the luck was tilting in Keely’s favor, in a gigantic way. She was going to have a novel published!

    “Isabelle, hi!”

“Keely, we broke up.”

Isabelle’s speech was shattered with sobs. She was hyperventilating, too. Keely could tell.

“Isabelle. Take a breath. It’s okay. Whatever it is, it will be okay.” She dropped onto her bed. This was going to be a long conversation.

“Gordon broke up with me,” Isabelle wailed. “For good. He’s going to marry someone else.”

“Oh, Izzy, I’m so sorry. But he was kind of—”

“You don’t have to insult him to make me feel better. I’ll never feel better. He asked me to give him back his ring! God, I feel so rejected.”