The Secret Life of a Romance Novelist

chapter three

Isabelle dreaded the impending ball. She normally enjoyed balls, but now she was engaged to Duke Rumford and her dance card would be full of... him.

She glowered as Mary Beth tightened her stays, "Must I wear this gown, Mary Beth? It's far too," she paused, searching for the right word, "Fetching."

"The betrothal's sealed, Miss," Mary Beth sighed, "No amount of frowning with change that, it'll only add lines to your face."

"Maybe if my face is full of ugly lines, Duke Rumford will detest the site of me and call it all off," Isabelle hoped.

"What, and you can run off with your mysterious letter writer?" Mary Beth teased.

"Mary Beth!" Isabelle gasped, "You must not tell a soul! Not a soul! Promise me!"

"I promise miss! I wouldn't tell any soul. It's just nothing interesting happens around here, except for you and Duke Rumford's constant bickering," retorted Mary Beth.

Isabelle rolled her eyes, "I'm glad someone get's enjoyment from my pain."

Mary Beth smiled, "Of course miss."

Ingrid stared out the window, hating every minute of this phone conversation with her editor, Lana Diaz. She twirled a piece of redish brown hair around her finger.

"And Leo is wondering if you'll do a book tour this time? To promote Her Handsome Hero and your work in progress- what are you calling it again?" Lana droned. She always spoke in a monotone.

"I wish this was little less patriarchal and a little more feminist, but my editor tells me that "arranged marriage to a Mr. Darcy-esc character" is a good idea (and why do I find this idea so attractive? It worries me)," Ingrid said, equally monotone.

"We'll need to change that," Lana said.

"Obviously," replied Ingrid, "But it's just a working title. Do I need to mention that I've only written the first two chapters of the first draft? Tell Leo from marketing that it's a little early to be promoting it. But only by like a week?"

"Darling, you're hilarious," Lana said, "I'll pass the message a long."

"Good," Ingrid sighed, "So we good here? No book tour, no promoting until I'm done with maybe the second draft?"

"If we must, darling," said the editor, "Oh and Norman was been wanting to meet you."

Ingrid's eyes widened, "Norman? Like CEO of Rose Books?"

"The one and only," somehow, Ingrid picked up on a weird coo in Lana's still monotone voice.

"I... don't know," she stammered, "You know I don't like people putting my face to my name- or to Rosetta French's name, I guess would be more actuate."

"I remember how much of a struggle it was to get you to fly out here to meet me!" Lana agreed.

"Can we, like, work up to it? Maybe I should talk to Leo from marketing first, then your receptionist, and in, oh say, five years I can meet Norman the CEO?"

"Five years isn't going to go very well is Norman, he can be a bit... demanding?" Lana sighed, "He's gone through five assistants this year."

"That doesn't make me want to meet him anymore, Lana," Ingrid rubbed her eyes, "How about in six months?"

"Two months," bartered the editor.

Ingrid countered, "Five months."

"Three, and no more talk of book tours for a year?"