Forgotten Love

Chapter 1

Allen sat rigidly in the chair, her hands clasped tightly together as she waited outside Mr. Browne's office.

Her eyes darted towards the clock on the wall for what felt like the hundredth time, her mind racing with anticipation and nerves.

She had spent years pouring her heart and soul into her book, and now, finally, she had the opportunity to present it to Mr. Browne, a renowned book publisher.

She took a deep breath, smoothing out her dress and trying to calm her racing thoughts.

Would he like it? Would he see the potential in her story? The questions swirled in her head like a vortex, making her stomach twist with anxiety.

As she waited, she mentally rehearsed her pitch, her hands growing sweaty with each passing minute.

She knew this was her chance to make her dream a reality, and she was determined to make a good impression.

As Mr. Browne emerged from the meeting room, his eyes scanned the waiting area, but he barely registered the young woman sitting there, her eyes fixed hopefully on him.

He nodded curtly to his assistant, who was busy typing away on her computer, and strode into his office without so much as a glance in Allen's direction.

The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving Allen feeling deflated and wondering if she had been forgotten.

She checked her watch again, her mind racing with thoughts of whether she should approach his assistant or simply wait a little longer.

The minutes ticked by at a glacial pace as she sat there, her book clutched tightly in her hands, her heart heavy with anticipation.

Allen took a deep breath and approached the assistant's desk, trying to sound confident and composed.

"Excuse me, I had an appointment with Mr. Browne to discuss my book. I've been waiting for a while, and I wanted to check if he was running on schedule."

The assistant looked up from her screen, her expression a mixture of annoyance and disinterest.

"You're the one waiting to see Mr. Browne? Yes, he's busy right now. Just wait." She nodded curtly, her eyes already back on her screen, dismissing Allen.

Allen felt a surge of frustration and disappointment, but she tried not to show it.

"I understand he's busy, but I did have an appointment," she persisted gently.

The assistant sighed audibly, not looking up. "Like I said, just wait. He'll see you when he's ready."

Allen felt a wave of indignation wash over her as the assistant's dismissive words struck a nerve.

She had been waiting for this appointment for a whole week, arriving early every day, only to be told to wait again.

She had watched as male authors, who had arrived late, were ushered into Mr. Browne's office with ease, while she was left to languish in the waiting area.

The injustice of it all burned within her. She thought of all the times she had been forced to leave by the security guard, only to return the next day, determined to be seen.

The assistant's offhand treatment was the final straw. Allen's eyes narrowed, her voice taking on a firm tone.

"I understand that Mr. Browne is busy, but I've been waiting for a week. I've seen other authors go in before me, despite arriving after me. I'd appreciate it if you could let him know I'm still here."

The assistant looked up, slightly taken aback by Allen's assertiveness.

The assistant's sigh was audible as she picked up the phone and dialed a few numbers.

"Mr. Browne, there's a woman named Allen here to see you. She's been waiting...for a while."

She paused, listening to his response. "Yes, sir. I'll send her in." The assistant hung up the phone and looked up at Allen, her expression softening ever so slightly.

"You can go in now." A tall, imposing man with a stern expression appeared in the doorway, his eyes scanning the waiting area until they landed on Allen.

"Ms. Allen, please come with me." Allen's heart skipped a beat as she stood up, smoothing out her dress and gathering her book and notes.

She smiled at the assistant, who nodded curtly in response. "Thank you," Allen said, before following the man into Mr. Browne's office.

She felt a sense of trepidation mixed with excitement as she entered the inner sanctum, her eyes adjusting to the dimmer light within.

Mr. Browne looked up from behind his massive desk, his eyes piercing as he took in Allen's determined demeanor.

Mr. Browne's expression changed from curiosity to shock as Allen shared her story, her words pouring out like a river. But as she finished, his face darkened, and he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together.

"I must say, Ms. Allen, that's quite a tale you've spun. But I'm afraid I won't be publishing it under your name." Allen's heart sank, sensing what was coming next. "Why not?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. Mr. Browne snorted.

"You're a woman, Ms. Allen. This is a man's world, and no one wants to read a book written by a woman. But..." He paused, a sly glint in his eye. "I might consider publishing it if you're willing to let a male author take credit for it."

Allen felt a wave of outrage wash over her. "You want me to plagiarize my own work?" Mr. Browne shrugged. "Call it what you will. Or, you can simply go home, tend to your domestic duties, and leave the writing to the men." His tone dripped with condescension, and Allen's anger boiled over.