35. Amor Caliente

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"Are you sure it sounds good?"

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"Are you sure it sounds good?"

I scooped up the page with the article I wrote for Virginia from my comforter and skimmed the first paragraph again.

"Yes." Jim's warm voice caressed my ear through the phone. "It sounds like the girl who wrote it knows what she's talking about. And she writes. And she's overqualified, so they'd better give her a raise fast, or her boyfriend—"

"Jim."

"Ava."

"I'm not overqualified. I'm a wannabe author with no qualifications." And no job yet.

"You're an about-to-be college student who lived out of the country for a year, has work experience, and is talented at everything that has to do with words."

"You're biased."

Jim chuckled. "So are you. You love everything I write, even if I hate it. But I'm not saying stuff to make you feel good. You nailed the article. This is my unbiased opinion, so please believe me. And stop rereading that thing."

"How did you...Right, you always know."

"Now we finally are on the same page. Too bad we're not in the same bed."

"Are you already in bed?"

"I'm spent." Jim yawned. "The album's almost ready, but there's still too much to wrap up."

I put the page down and rolled onto my side.

"Are you nervous?"

"Yeah. We're experimenting with genres, and the vibe is different. It's a love it or hate it kind of situation, but both Dermot and Cay are confident it's gonna be alright."

"What does your intuition tell you?"

"That things usually turn out okay if you're true to yourself, and we were. But fans have their expectations too."

"It's going to be amazing, " I whispered. "I believe in you."

A sigh slipped past Jim's lips. "Ditto, beautiful."

☆☆☆

The following morning, I checked my email as soon as I woke up. There was nothing from Virginia yet, perhaps because less than a day had passed since I sent her the article about the new book releases. I needed to be patient, but it'd be way easier if the job weren't my dream job.

It wasn't only about the money, although money was important. If I worked for The Cultural Digest, I'd meet lots of industry professionals and attend events I would've missed otherwise. Plus, who wouldn't want to be able to list a famous magazine in the work experience section of their resume?

Still in my PJs, I dashed downstairs to have breakfast. Dad left for work, and although having the house to myself would grant me the quiet I needed to focus on editing my book, worry didn't let me think about anything other than Virginia's answer.

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