Writer's Block (Complete)

Epilogue

                                             Epilogue

                                        Five Years Later

I climb a set of stairs that seem endless as I take one stair at a time until I finally reach the top. I could have taken the elevator, but the confinement makes me a little edgy these days, besides walking is great exercise.

People pass by me, all of them in a lot bigger hurry than I am, my appointment being an hour away. Everyone's always in a hurry in New York. I've figured that out quickly in the few days that I've been here. This place is quite a bit like Chicago but a lot busier, more congested and a little too crowded, even for me.

I step across the hallway to the sign that explains where everything is. After a quick scan I find where I'm heading and turn to the left. The room numbers grow larger on the glass doors that line the hallway, each one housing an office with people moving around inside, living a life of their own. Each person with a story to tell, each story unique and interesting in its own way.

B-130, the office I need lies just on the other side of the glass door. I smooth my skirt, checking my reflection in the door, before opening it with sweaty palms and a lump in my throat.

The office is silent, the waiting room empty. I guess I'm their only appointment at this time. I step up to the receptionists window and wait for her to notice me.

A bright smile forms on the beautiful blondes face as her eyes meet mine. "Katrina Cavanagh." She says rather than asks, making me wonder if she's a fan of my work. I nod, she lowers her head for a moment, her fingers typing away at a keyboard before she smiles up at me again.

"Mr. Walker will be with you shortly." She announces, her beautiful smile never fading. I nod in acceptance before turning to find a seat.

"Miss Cavanagh," I portly man announces after a door opens off to the side of the receptionist.

"It's Mrs. Caldwell now, I smile at him, taking his hand to shake.

"Ah, well congratulations."

"Thanks, but we've been married for four years now," I chuckle, a bit nervous.

He simply smiles at me before leading me down a long hallway to a wooden door at the end. He opens the door and waves me inside a rather large office, complete with a bar.

"Have a seat he says waving to a brown leather sofa."

I smooth the back of my skirt as I lower to the sofa, relieved to be off of my feet. I'm not quite used to wearing heels these days and my feet, ankles and calves are burning from the change in footwear.

"Mrs. Caldwell, I am impressed and intrigued by you latest book. It's said to be a true story, is this so or is it just a way of selling more copies?" He asks. I open my mouth to speak but he begins again, "Either way, it's brilliant. I am honored to welcome you as a New York times best seller." He says, making a smile form on my face.

"Thank you." My smile stretching at the thought.

"Have you thought about a sequel, maybe a series?"

My smile fades a bit, "I think this book will remain a standalone." I do not want to go through that torture again, I think but keep it to myself, leaving the mystery of its authenticity just that.

"I see... I see... Have you thought about what your next book will be about?"

"Actually, I have started a new book."

"Great." He grabs a file and hands it to me. "This is your contract with our publishing company please feel free to take it with you and have your lawyer look it over."

"Actually, I know it's a big honor to sign with you and I have given this a lot of thought, but I think I'm going to stick with my publisher. He's always done right by me, not that you won't but he has a husband and a child now and if I sign with you, I'm taking away his best client." I announce, laying the file on the smoked glass coffee table in front of me.

"I totally understand, and I admire your loyalty, however this is business, Mrs. Caldwell. Signing on with us will guarantee that you remain a best seller." He says sliding the file closer to me.

I stand, look down at him with a stern expression. "To be honest, I am a writer, not a fame seeker. I want readers and if my books are good they will go places without you, as I have proven already." I came here as a courtesy to Christian. He insisted that I come here and hear the man out, although I argued it. I never had any intention of changing publishers, but it has been a nice vacation.

I lower my hand, "Thank you for your time."

Blue, clear skies greet me as I step out of the oversized office building. I'm swallowed up in the hustle and bustle of the afternoon rush. I shuffle through the crowd, headed for my hotel with a desire to run away from the busyness of the city and return to the quiet island with it's beautiful scenery and warm sunshine.

Pulling my winter coat tighter around me to stave of the brisk air, I follow the crowd until my hotel comes in site. The doorman greats me, opening the front door so I can step inside. The warmth of the room embraces me as I find my way to the stairs, climbing them two at a time, eager to get back to my suite.

I hear giggling on the other side of the door before I even reach it. A smile forms across my face as I open the door and step inside.

Alex is tickling a small replica of myself, while our son climbs on his back, trying to protect his sister from his father's torment. Alex looks up, "Mommy's back," He announces and two heads spin to look in my direction. Before I know it, my legs are encased by little arms.

"The kids want to go hang out with Uncle Christian and Uncle Jayden. They are excited to meet their little cousin." Alex announces. That would be the actual reasons for our trip to New York, to pick up Christian and Jayden's baby. By the way, I lost a hundred dollars, and had to be in their wedding. That was a shock of a lifetime finding out that Jayden was indeed gay.

"Alright, get your shoes on," I order and wait by the door for them to get ready.

We travel down the hallway a few doors away from ours, the sound of a newborn baby crying brightens my mood as I watch Alex knock on their door. There's nothing like the sound of a newborns cries.

The door swings open exposing a very tired looking Christian, holding a screaming baby in his arms. I step around Alex, taking the baby from him. "Go shower, you look like shit."

He smiles, "Right but one day, I'll look back on this time and know that it's one of the best days of my life."

"Yes, it is.

"I can finally relate to all of those stories you and Del tell," His smile growing bigger by the second.

"Maybe, my next book will be about you," I say with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh no, no one wants to read about my life," he chuckles and steps away from the door.