I hang up and smile with happiness that Nikolai and I didn’t argue. It’s funny, even though I just saw him last nig
ht I miss Nikolai. I miss his smile. I miss having him inside me. I miss his silver eyes raking over my body. I even miss his sarcastic sense of humor.
Before Nikolai arrives I get my first Thank-you-but-no-thank-you letter. Even though Peter Thiel’s agency have asked for more chapters, the rejection is still somehow hurtful, and I am again glad I did not tell Nigel. Peter Thiel could still reject me.
I am dressed in jeans and a blue T-shirt when Nikolai comes through the door. He too is wearing blue jeans. They hug the tops of his muscular thighs and make him look rugged but really sexy too. He stops when he sees me and smiles.
“So, we’re slumming it today, huh?” he says.
I smile back, my heart in my throat.
Storm, Nikolai and I end up at the Bricklayer’s Arms. We have a pint of ale in the garden and Storm makes friends with a black lab. The man who owns her comes over to talk to us. He is a middle-aged Irishman and he just doesn’t get it that Nikolai doesn’t want to talk. Completely oblivious he talks for all of us. He tells us he lives around the corner from the pub. I think he is hilarious and I have a wonderful time listening to his jokes. When it is time for us to leave Storm cries.
“Ach … he’s in love,” he says with a wink.
He tells us he is thinking of having a barbeque at his place on Sunday afternoon. “Why don’t the both of you bring your dog around then?”
He thinks we are couple. “Yeah maybe,” Nikolai says.
“Here, put my number in yer phone and give me a call on Saturday,” he says.
For a second Nikolai doesn’t know what to do. He glances at me, then he takes his phone out and inputs the man’s number.
When he is gone I tease Nikolai. “Are you going to his barbeque?”
“I’d rather cut my arm off and eat it,” he says.
“So why did you take his number?”
He frowns. “I don’t know why. I’ve never done something like that before.”
We move to the restaurant. Just as Nikolai had warned, the food is not very good, but it is one of the best nights I’ve ever had in my life. Nikolai is so well read, so knowledgeable, that I just sit there staring at him in awe.
We finish the night in my bed. All the things I couldn’t say with my mouth, I say with my body. Nikolai doesn’t leave my bed until the early morning hours.
Chapter Forty-One
Star
I spend the next two days in London. The routine is the same. I wake up, have breakfast with Celine and then I go see my dad. I write for a while then I while away the hours and wait for the night to come. For Nikolai to come to me.
That day would have been the same if the Peter Thiel Agency had not called. Daria Elizabeth Bowen wants me to go in and meet them!
“Can you come today?”
“Sure,” I say, stunned.
I dress in a yellow shirt and a pair of gray trousers. I put my hair up so it looks more formal, and Alexis drives me to their office at the Embankment. My hands are clammy with sweat. I ring on the doorbell and identify myself. Someone buzzes me in.
I push the door open and walk down a short corridor. I open another door with the sign that says Peter Thiel’s Literary Agency. A woman in a bright red skirt and a dowdy green blouse walks up to me. Her short brown hair is full of grey roots. She extends her hand out to me. “Hey, I’m the one who read your book and just loved it.”
I grin at her. “Hello, Ms. Bowen.”
“Call me Daria. Everyone does.”
“Okay.”
“I didn’t think you’d be so young.”
“Oh,” I exclaim worriedly.
She holds her hands up. “But it’s good. It’s all good. Youth is good 99.99% of the time.”
I laugh.
“Come with me. We’ll go get a cup of tea. Peter wants to meet you too, but he’s just finishing up another meeting.”
“Okay.”
I follow her to a room with a long table and chairs around it. “This is our conference room. Have a seat.”
I take a seat and look up at her.
“Isn’t this exciting?” she asks.
“You cannot imagine how much,” I tell her sincerely.
She smiles. “You deserve it. You wrote a really good book. Did you say that you have five more with the same characters already written?”
I nod.
She winks. “Tell that to Peter when he comes in. You’ll make his year.”
“I will?”
“Oh absolutely. He’s planning to sell your book for loads of money.”
My eyes widen. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I sold a cat book last week for £15,000, but Peter will get more for yours.”
I can feel myself grinning from ear to ear. £15,000? I’ve never earned a penny in my life. “Really?”
“For sure.”
Then Peter Thiel comes in and the mood changes. I’d already seen a picture of him on the Internet so I am not surprised when he comes in with a straw hat and a red bowtie. Appearances are deceiving, because he is shockingly sharp and clever and plays his cards very close to his chest. He welcomes me to the agency, congratulates me on having written a fine book, and beyond that I learn nothing more.
When I get into the car I see him standing at the first-floor window looking down. I wonder what he must think to see me getting into a big expensive car with tinted windows. Unsure whether to wave or not I am saved when he raises his hand first and waves.
Funnily enough I tell Rosa, Cindy, Celine, Sophia, Nan, Grandad, Mum, Nikolai, and even Andrei about being accepted by the agency, but I don’t tell Nigel. I don’t know why, but I decide to tell him only if the agency actually finds a publisher who wants to buy the book. After all, I’ve read on the net that some people find agents, but then can’t find a publisher to take their book on.
My father comes out of hospital and moves in with Nan. It is a great relief for the whole family and it feels like a big burden has lifted off my shoulders. No matter what happens now my dad is safe. The hospital bills are taken care of and he is on the mend.
I meet Rosa and Cindy for lunch and I realize as I am sitting with them that this month with Nikolai hasn’t turned out to be the ordeal that I thought it would be. It’s actually become my greatest adventure. I’m learning new things. New opportunities are coming my way, and the time away from Nigel is making me realize how small my life was before.
I had made my own existence so small and insignificant.
Basically I was Nigel’s glorified housekeeper. I did nothing other than write, keep house, and garden. I hardly went out without him. I learned nothing new. I got my monthly allowance and I could spend that how I liked, but any big purchases I had to ask permission.
Even the thought that I would have my own money, money that I earned by myself, made me feel dizzy with excitement. Outside of the beyond amazing sex, Nikolai and I have settled into a cautious relationship. Sometimes he gives me the impression he wants more. Then at other times he pushes me away and makes it clear there is nothing between us but the sex.
There is just over two weeks left of our time together and a big part of me feels extraordinarily sad that my time will soon be over, but I understand that I can’t have Nikolai.
He is too rich, too handsome, too mysterious, too unreachable, too sophisticated, too cold, too sexually experienced for me. I’m just an ordinary girl who happened to take his fancy one night in a restaurant, but I know it won’t last. It can’t last. I don’t know much about how billionaires operate, but I imagine after a month, he will be bored with me and be on the look out for the next woman to fill his bed.
Anyway, I need to go back to my own life. To my real life. Not this fantasy adventure with a billionaire. My real life is with Nigel, my husband, the man I will bear children for and grow old with.
I need to mend the broken bits of our relationship and start again. Only this time I won’t walk around with rose tinted glasses.
This time I’ll keep my eyes o
pen.
Chapter Forty-Two
Star
“Hello, Miss Minton. This is Peter Thiel.”
“Hello, Mr. Thiel,” I say, too shocked that he has actually called my number.
“How are you?”
I clear my throat. “I’m fine.”
“That’s good. Well, the auction for your series is over.”
“The auction?”
“Yes. There was enough interest in your book for me to hold a little mini-auction.”
“Really?” I gasp.
“Are you sitting down?”
The first thought that crosses my mind is oh no, he received such lows sums, he’s preparing me for the bad news. I won’t be getting the £15,000 that the cat book got. Then I brighten up. What does it matter if it’s just a small sum? The main thing is I will be published!
I’m not sitting down, but I just say yes so that he can get on with it.
“Right. This is just for the UK and English speaking markets worldwide, but not including the US. We’ll do those separately.”
I frown, not understanding where the conversation is going. I’m going to need to do some serious research. English speaking markets? What are those?
“Right. Are you ready for this?” he asks.
Why on earth is he prolonging this? “Yes,” I say warily.
“Both Little Brown and Hachette offered £350,000 for the series of five with the option to buy the rest, but Hachette has the slightly better deal on royalties.”
I blink. What did he just say? But the cat book sold for £15,000 and I’m supposed to get a bit more. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch what you said,” I croak.
He calmly repeats himself and my jaw falls open. For a few seconds I can’t say a word. “They want to pay £350,000 for my series?” I screech.
“That’s right.”
“Oh my god! I can’t believe this. This is soooooo brilliant.”