Until Her (Sequel)

chapter one

"Heidi, I need you to tell Graham that I won't make it." I voiced over the speaker with my assistant, Heidi, a fiery red-head that quickly became my closest friend in the city. It was sheer luck that I found her, but even better that she became one of my closest friends since moving to Atlanta just after graduating from Central Beach University five years before.

                  Finding friends in this busy city proved to be more difficult than making friends in my small college town. With my best friend, Peyton Ferrero, and her husband Jonathan, both miles away in our hometown, a small piece of me was missing, although I'd never mention that to my husband who worked so hard to get where he was. Everything he'd done, he did for us.

                  I swayed back and forth on the spacious balcony, gripping onto the iron hand-rail that kept me from falling off the edge, although I contemplated that ditching out on a conference with my editor, Graham, would be more sufferable than tumbling five stories down to the bustling street underneath me.

I bit on my index finger waiting for her response.

"Chloe, you know he's not going to like that." she replied back cautiously, knowing exactly what I'd say.

"I know," I pleaded. "but tonight is special for Carter and me. And my pages aren't... finished yet." I murmured the last part as if I were ashamed of them, because I was. I'd always trusted my good intuition, like the night I watched a bunch of rambling drunks fight in a field back in college; my gut feeling was off from the start, and low and behold, the cops almost busted us. I smiled at the memory, considering I'd been through much worse since that night.

I couldn't help but feel that same tugging for the last few weeks—while I was supposed to be working on my newest novel—but I just couldn't help it. My gut was strong, like a Mother Bear's, and whatever was lurking in the shadows would have to reveal itself before I lost my job, and my eighty-thousand-dollar book deal.

I was thankful that my writing career took off after my victory in the Young Writer's Competition of North Carolina. From there, Rockwood Publishers signed me on as their youngest author, publishing my book in the miraculously quick time of just one year after winning the competition.

Success hadn't come easy, with backlash from certain audiences and book critics who didn't like the main character, who, of course in my first novel, was me. They said she was too uneasy. Ha. Younger Chloe Banks was the most uneasy person I'd ever known; they just didn't know why. Deciding to switch it up, I had begun writing a series about a feisty girl-boss who falls in love with an inferior. The audience loved that one. I groaned at the thought, although writing was still my passion and I owed all of my hard-earned success to the simple magic of putting pen to paper.

Graham Hall, my editor, talked me into writing a mystery novel, which hadn't been easy thus far. Since my life had included past trauma and other terrifying experiences, I knew I was capable of putting myself into the shoes of the characters; but my perfectly-quiet and calm life was lacking those experiences lately; I definitely wasn't upset about that. Boring and calm was exactly the way I wanted it. But, I've lost my magic touch, and Graham, Heidi, and all my other colleagues were noticing it.

"What?!" the other line squealed. I recoiled, pulling the phone from my ear to keep from bursting my eardrum. "Chloe James! You cannot keep doing this! It's been three weeks and nothing!"

I loved Heidi. She was my big sister Kate, my best friend Peyton, and my mom wrapped into a feisty twenty-six-year-old.

"I know," I exasperated. "but something is just...off. Maybe I need a writer's retreat. But tonight, I legitimately cannot make it. Carter has plans for us."