Love Is Black And White

19. Second Chances

Don't ruin it.

I spoke to myself while waiting for the meeting with the publisher. I got a second chance, thanks to Professor Bristol and his contacts. And this time I couldn't miss it.

Weeks before that, Professor Bristol had sent a copy of my book to this publisher. I was very excited when I first saw my printed and complete book, it smelled so good. I smelled all the pages. Maybe it was weird, but it was a pleasure. Smell of books, one of life's little pleasures. Even more, when you wrote it.

"Mr. Bloom?" A woman called me, "She's waiting for you." She completed when I looked at her.

I smiled, got up from the chair and followed her to an office door. Natalie Stein was the name engraved on the door plate, which I stared at, while my presence was announced at the office.

"Good luck." The woman said with a friendly smile, before closing the door.

Slowly, I walked towards the office desk. A woman with blond hair in a bun, with a serious and focused posture, was writing on papers in front of her. She looked at me and lifted her glasses closer to her eyes, "Take a seat." She said, and went back to the papers.

She waited for me to sit down to proceed, "So you're Leon Bloom," she gave me a quick look, "Bristol talked a lot about you."

I smiled, "I'm very grateful to him... He's a great Professor."

"He certainly is." Mrs. Stein dropped the pen and folded her hands in front of her, "This meeting was supposed to happen last week, did you forget?" She asked, staring at me from above her glasses, which were already on the tip of her nose.

I shook my head, frowning, "No, of course not. I wouldn't forget a chance like this."

"So what happened?" She asked me, eyebrows raised.

I bit my bottom lip, and lowered my head, thinking of an appropriate response, "Personal issues." I said, it can't go wrong.

"A very cliché excuse, don't you think?" She took off her glasses slowly, took a deep breath and looked back at the papers on her desk, "I don't like cliches."

It went wrong. I looked at the floor, as I used to do when I was scolded by my school teacher. "My friend, uh..." I decided to explain myself, "She had an episode of psychosis."

She faced me again, without showing too much emotion, "Oh... And how is she now?"

"She's getting better." I answered, "In therapy."

"Good." She smiled, and I breathed a sigh of relief, finally a smile. "Now let's talk about your book."

I fixed my posture on the chair, while she arranged things on her desk, placing my book in front of her.

She cleared her throat before she started, "It's a good book." She said, and I couldn't stop my lips from curving into a smile, "But..." Of course there is a but, I stopped smiling, "You're a new writer. And this book is just one part of the story, I need to see the rest. Not all, but at least the second book." She paused, and looked at me with raised eyebrows, "If you bring me a second book as good as the first, your story will be published."

I swallowed, not sure how to feel about it. My mind was already analyzing the negative and positive points, it won't be published right now, but she seems to be interested in publishing it. I just need to finish the second book. But what if it's not as good as the first one?

Oh, many seconds in silence, it's better to say something, I nodded, "I'm glad you liked it. And I'll work hard on the second book." I replied, trying to look confident.