Suddenly, her expensive trouser suit felt too tight and it was as if she could feel every layer of make-up weighing down on her skin. She wanted to curl up in a ball and roll her way out of the shop and home again without making eye contact with anyone.
‘Jo? Are you okay? You’ve gone very pale?’ Ewan's lilting Scottish voice cut through her feelings of self-loathing. ‘You seem to have zoned out.’ He looked confused and, if she wasn’t mistake, genuinely concerned.
‘I… I’m just embarrassed to have wasted your time,’ she mumbled.
Again, his face was clouded with confusion. ‘You’ve not wasted my time. Why would you think that?’
‘Because it’s repetitive, and needs an edit and…’ She paused as she tried to remember what else he had said.
‘Yes,’ he nodded. ‘But every writer needs an editor. And there will always be work to be done on any manuscript. For a first run out of the starting blocks, it shows considerable talent. It’s original and dark and, I have to say, very beautifully written.’
Jo’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Had he said all this before and she just hadn’t been listening? Her mouth remained dry and her stomach remained clenched. ‘You… you actually like it?’ she asked.
‘Of course I do,’ Ewan said. ‘You’ve captured the setting so very perfectly. The isolation and darkness is all there. And your use of weather as a metaphor of mood and drama is exquisitely done. I don’t think I’ve ever read a description of a summer rain shower so evocative. It actually gave me goosebumps. I think you have an incredible amount of potential and I can see, now that I’ve met you in person, that you have that fire in your eyes – that special something that will propel you forward.’
Jo could hardly believe that he was talking about her. Ewan McLachlan, writer and creator of the McCreadie series, saw potential in her. That he thought her writing was evocative and exquisite. The urge to climb across the table and kiss him hard on the lips grew even larger than it had been – and that was a remarkable feat in itself.
‘Thank you,’ she stuttered, overcome with emotion.
‘Don’t thank me,’ he said. ‘Allow me to mentor you. For a few days. As I said, I’m going to Donegal on a research trip. Come with me, for a day or two. Let’s work together. Nothing dodgy,’ he said, smiling. ‘I’m not a creep. I’m booked into a hotel. I’ll get you your own room. I just like to support new writers when I can and this… this is worth supporting. I mean, I understand if you can’t or if it feels weird. But the offer is there.’
20
An Indecent Proposal
It had to be a set-up. Jo wondered if Ewan McLachlan had some secret recording device. Or maybe he was just an exceptionally weird and cruel man who liked to raise the hopes of aspiring writers and then laugh when they attempted to take up his offer.
What she knew was that there was no way his offer could be genuine. Things like that didn’t happen, especially not to her. It most certainly could not be genuine, could it?
‘I don’t understand,’ she eventually stuttered.
‘Obviously I’m going to Donegal to work and I’ll have to do that, but I have a few research trips planned and, from a selfish perspective, having someone local would help with those. I’m not being entirely altruistic. But I’ll have some downtime and I’d really love to talk to you more about your work. I’ll be honest and admit it, I’ve not finished it yet, but I’m far enough into it to be really intrigued. Have you thought about which publishers or agents you want to submit it to, or maybe you’ve already sent it out?’
‘Oh God, no. I haven’t even thought about it,’ Jo said, and blushed furiously. ‘I wasn’t sure anyone would think it was worth reading. Apart from my friends and my mum, obviously. I did plan to start looking, you know, at some stage.’ She decided not to tell him that she had no idea what ‘at some stage’ would have translated to. It could have been a year from then, or it could have been after hell had frozen over. Chances were it would have fallen somewhere in between.
‘Well, look. For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’ve not submitted it yet. It has huge potential, but to give you the very best chance of securing a great deal, there are a few areas which could be worked on. The bones are all there. It’s not a huge amount of work by any means, but if you’ll allow me to help you, I’d love to.’ He smiled that dazzling smile of his once more and she was sure she would wake up to find this was just a dream and her life was as ordinary and uneventful as always.
‘I don’t honestly know what to say,’ Jo told him.
‘Say yes. Take a chance. If you can get the time off work.’
‘I’m on leave at the moment,’ she muttered.
‘Well,’ Ewan beamed. ‘That’s perfect then. It’s fate. It was meant to happen.’
Jo felt a shiver of excitement. Could she really do it? Her mother would say yes, of course. Libby would say yes. Noah would absolutely say yes, and even Lorcan would nudge her to do it, she was sure. Clara might be a harder sell, but her mother would kill her if she turned down this chance solely because of her little sister. She’d assure her that Clara would be fine, and Jo knew in her heart that Clara would be. The real question, she realised, was whether she could afford not to do it. Opportunities like this didn’t come around very often, if ever.
‘Ewan,’ Libby’s voice cut through, ‘people are starting to queue, so if maybe we could bring you through and get you set up. I’d like to soundcheck the radio mics before we open the doors.’
‘Of course,’ Ewan said. ‘Jo and I can have a chat after, can’t we, Jo?’
She looked at him, and melted under the warmth of his expression. Jo nodded, the power of speech lost for a moment, then stuttered, ‘Yes, of course. We’ll talk later. Thank you again for your time.’
‘It’s my pleasure,’ Ewan told her, flashing her that George Clooney in ER smile again.
He stood up and followed Libby into the main body of the shop while Jo remained seated and could only wonder what the hell had just happened. Had this guy been for real? His offer was so incredibly generous and so far she hadn’t been able to spot a single hidden camera. She wished she could grab Libby and talk to her about it. Or Noah. But she knew Noah would be sitting in the front row in full support of his fiancée and it would be grossly unfair of her to drag him away to beg for advice.
She wondered if Lorcan was there yet. Maybe she could grab him for a quick chat? She knew she just had to talk to someone to see whether this was all a crazy dream or maybe, just maybe, it was the chance she’d been waiting for all along. A chance delivered on a golden platter by someone who looked like he’d walked straight out of a romance novel.
Libby had opened the doors to Once Upon A Book and it was filling up quickly. There was a buzz of conversation and laughter. Eager book fans were clutching well-thumbed copies of Ewan's earlier works, while others lifted copies of his latest release and started to flick through the pages while they queued.