Finding Ms. Write Page 11

  Nora couldn’t decide whether she should bring up the note with Joanne before Wednesday or leave it until then, partly because she felt so conflicted about it. Especially the quote. Those two short sentences were on a rolling loop in her brain. What on earth was Joanne trying to tell her? In the end, she decided to wait until Wednesday. Today was the launch of the two campaigns she’d been working on since she first got here, and she needed all her focus on that.

  The initial response to both publications had been good, but, of course, the Jo Green one was leaping off the shelves, both physical and electronic. Nora’s Twitter feeds were picking up good coverage, and the Facebook splash she’d worked on with David had already achieved over 5,000 likes before ten in the morning. Nora was too young to remember the old days of book promotion but revelled in the possibilities offered by the new digital age for an industry she had loved since she was a small child.

  Maggie, despite working on the digital team, didn’t seem quite so enamoured. “I can’t help it,” she said to David. “For me, there is nothing better than opening a fresh book, an actual book made of paper and board, waiting to see where the author will take you in their story.”

  “Still only buying in hardback, then?”

  Nora couldn’t help glancing up to hear what Maggie’s response would be. This was a side to Maggie she would never have imagined.

  “Whenever possible, yes. And no, I don’t own a Kindle and never will. I’ll buy paperback if I have to, but only as a last resort.”

  David laughed.

  “I remember, as a child, thinking I was in paradise every time I was given a new book by my parents.” Nora hadn’t planned on joining in the conversation, but something about Maggie’s passion for the printed word had lured her in.

  Maggie met her eyes, and her smile took Nora’s breath away.

  “You too, huh?” Maggie’s voice was quiet and filled with something Nora couldn’t identify.

  Nora nodded, unable to look away. “I spent hours huddled up in my bed, absorbed in any book my parents lavished on me. Books were my first true love.”

  Maggie stared at her with an indecipherable expression and then cleared her throat. “At last, an ally in my battle to educate this team on the sheer power and joy of a book in hand.” She smiled warmly.

  Nora blushed. She would never have imagined they would have something so profound in common.

  By lunchtime, her head was spinning from keeping up with all that was happening out in social media land, and she decided to take a break. She grabbed the volume of Emily Dickinson poems she’d started at the weekend and headed out into the park. It was a beautiful autumn day, the sun surprisingly warm, with only a gentle breeze, so she found a patch of grass overlooking the waterway that flowed through the park and opened her mind to the curious yet compelling stanzas written some one hundred and fifty years ago.

  When she returned to her desk, Joanne walked over, asked how she was, and confirmed their date on Wednesday. Their conversation was brief but pleasant. Joanne gave no hint of the note she’d left in the locker, and neither did Nora, determined to leave that conversation for a more private setting.

  After Joanne walked away, Maggie caught Nora’s gaze. “Got another hot date on Wednesday, huh?” Her smile was teasing, but not maliciously so.

  “If I do, I’m quite sure it’s nothing to do with you,” replied Nora, more sharply than she had intended.

  Maggie’s eyebrows lifted. After a moment she shrugged and returned to her work.

  Nora’s conscience immediately nagged her. There had been no reason to be that rude, had there? Maggie was just being friendly. What was it about her that made Nora react so…irrationally? Maggie unsettled her; she could admit that. What she couldn’t figure out was why.

  “Look, I’m sorry,” she said across the space between their desks. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  Maggie looked up, her smile radiant. “No worries.” She paused. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “It’s okay. You weren’t really.”

  They stared at each other for a few moments, and Nora’s pulse quickened at being subjected to Maggie’s penetrating gaze. She didn’t know what to say after that, so she turned back to her workstation, trying to ignore the electric sensations that had erupted all over her body. And trying to understand what was happening between them. Maggie had a girlfriend, apparently, so why did she look at Nora so…tenderly? Did she think she could play around? Nora huffed out a breath. Not with me.

  Nora dressed up a little on Wednesday for her date later that evening. It was a bit much for work, but easier than carrying a spare outfit in on her commute.

  When she reached her desk, David gave her a wolf whistle.

  She waved him off. She saw Joanne in passing later in the morning, and she had also dressed up, which made both of them smile. Nora had opted for a teal-green sweater with short sleeves and a V-neck, a pair of tight black jeans, which she tucked into knee-length black boots, and a short leather jacket. Joanne wore a flattering knee-length dress, with a slash neck across the shoulders, in a deep burgundy that complimented her dark hair beautifully. Again, Nora tried to ignore that part of her that didn’t register even an ounce of physical attraction to Joanne. She admired how Joanne looked, but it didn’t set off any sparks. It didn’t matter, she told herself, it was about more than that with them.

  When she got back from lunch, she was shocked to find another note, this time in the top of her handbag. With trembling hands, she pulled it out of the bag. After glancing around to make sure no one else was in sight, she opened the sheet of paper and read the words on it.

  You look stunning today. You have literally left me breathless. And the most wonderful aspect of your beauty is that I don’t think you realise just how gorgeous you are. Looking at you makes me ache to be with you. Are you sure you want to go out tonight? I can imagine whisking you off to somewhere private and cosy, where I could simply hold you close—oh, to feel you in my arms, to taste your lips with mine…

  Like the first, this also finished with a quote, the first stanza from one of Emily Dickinson’s poems.

  Wild Nights—Wild Nights!

  Were I with thee

  Wild Nights should be

  Our luxury!

  Nora’s breath caught in her throat. The passion in the note sent shivers careening down her spine. Her heartbeat raced; her palms dampened; her face glowed. Good grief, no one had ever made her feel this way with mere words. She would never have known Joanne was so…passionate, so eloquent. She had given her no hints of this yet in their conversations. Perhaps she was shy, and the notes were her way of expressing her innermost thoughts. While it was lovely, Nora couldn’t shake off the feeling that they were on different pages if these words spoke of Joanne’s true feelings. That lack of physical chemistry was nagging at Nora. Yes, the words she’d just read made her pulse race. But when she read them, she didn’t conjure up an image of Joanne in her mind’s eye. No, the image that flashed through her brain was of a faceless, yet almost familiar woman, someone whose beauty and presence matched the depth of the words in front of her. Someone who could sweep Nora off her feet with very little protest. She tried very, very hard not to put a face to that person. Because the face she inexplicably kept coming up with was Maggie’s.

  She was determined to talk to Joanne about the notes. They, and Joanne’s intentions, were now officially confusing the hell out of her. She waited until they were seated in the restaurant, this time in Covent Garden, and each had a glass of wine in hand before she broached the subject.

  “So,” she began, “I have a question.”

  Joanne leaned forward on her elbows, smiling warmly. “I’m all ears.”

  To Nora, though, the smile lacked the level of emotion the notes expressed so eloquently.

 
“Well, it’s possibly a little awkward, but I really wanted to talk to you about the notes.”

  Joanne stared at her blankly. “Notes?”

  Nora tilted her head to one side. Why was Joanne playing dumb? “Yes, the notes. I guess I’m just trying to figure out why. I mean, it’s very romantic, don’t get me wrong, but… Well, it’s early days in this”—she motioned between them—“and they speak of something I’m not sure we’ve become yet.”

  Joanne sat back in her chair, her brow furrowed in a frown. “Um, Nora, what are you talking about? What notes?”

  Now it was Nora’s turn to stare. “The notes! The ones you left in my locker on Monday and my handbag at lunchtime today.”

  Joanne shook her head slowly, as if trying to clear her head of a particularly long sleep. “I have no idea what you are talking about. Someone has left you notes?”

  Nora slumped back in her chair. “You mean it really wasn’t you?”

  “No, I swear, I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  “Oh God,” Nora whispered. “Then who is it?”

  And then she told Joanne everything, fishing both notes out of her handbag where they had been burning holes since she’d received the second one. They discussed them rationally, the way two friends would, not like a potential couple. And they both quickly realised that fact, and it led to a very friendly exchange about just what this was between them. They laughed when they each admitted that what they felt was purely platonic. And then they both relaxed, ordered more wine, and tried to unravel the mystery of the notes together.

  “Okay,” said Joanne, after their meal and with her third glass of wine in hand. “The one that really gets me is the first one. The only way they could know about the Jane Austen discussion was if they were sitting near us in the brasserie at the time. So, do you remember seeing anyone from work near us that night?”

  Nora sipped at her wine. “I don’t recall anyone near us that night. Mind you, I was trying to be very attentive to you as it was our first date, so I didn’t check out the room at all.”

  Joanne giggled. “Me too. Damn, we missed a great opportunity to find out who your secret admirer is!”

  Nora laughed. “I’m wondering if ‘stalker’ is the correct terminology now. I mean, they followed us on the Friday night, they know my locker combination, they know what I’m reading this week, and they know how to get in my handbag without anyone seeing. It’s freaking me out a little, if I’m honest.”

  “Hey, don’t worry.” Joanne’s voice projected calmness. “I think if they meant anything nasty, they’d have done something far worse than this. And they could have easily stolen something from your handbag today and didn’t, so I don’t think this is anything other than a pretty persistent admirer. I mean, you’ve got to hand it to them, they’ve been rather clever so far. And the notes are very romantic, not seedy at all.”

  “True,” mused Nora. “So, what do I do now?”

  Nora arrived at work early the next day, determined to talk to David before anyone else appeared. As she’d expected, he was already at his desk, flicking through the Metro newspaper while he sipped his large Starbucks cappuccino.

  When she saw he was on his own, she relaxed and threw the second note down on top of his newspaper. “I got another one, yesterday after lunch. And they’re not from Joanne.”

  He stared at her for a moment, then picked up the note and read it.

  “Oh my,” he murmured, putting a hand on his chest. “She’s making me tingle, and I haven’t even looked at a woman in fifteen years.”

  Nora sighed and dropped into her chair. “What makes you think it’s a woman?”

  “What?”

  Nora’s last frightening thought before she went to bed the night before had been to question the gender of whoever had left the messages for her. There was nothing in either note to outright suggest the sex of the author, so why had she assumed it was a woman?

  “It could be Peter,” Nora whispered, shuddering.

  David looked sick. “Oh no. No way. These notes were not written by a forty-something, straight man who looks like he still lives at home with Mummy.”

  “God, I hope you’re right.” She sank her head into her hands briefly before looking back up at him. “David, I’m really struggling with all of this.”

  “In what way? The whole creepy thing, like you said on Monday?”

  “Partly.” She hesitated.

  “But also…?”

  “But also… I think they’re beautiful. They make me feel things I haven’t ever felt. They stir something in me.” Her face flushed, but she was, at the same time, glad she’d confided in someone. She hadn’t wanted to tell Joanne; it hadn’t seemed appropriate to share that element with her.

  David smiled and reached across the desk to take one of her hands. Before he could speak, someone made their presence known with a clearing of the throat from just a few steps away. They both glanced in that direction, to find Maggie looking at them quizzically.

  “Something you two want to share with the team?” She looked at their joined hands and smiled that little teasing smile again.

  David giggled. “Now that would be news!” He let go of Nora’s hand, but not before giving it a gentle squeeze.

  “So, everything okay?” Maggie looked between the pair of them as she moved to her own desk.

  “Fine,” muttered Nora, switching her gaze away from the stunning sight of Maggie in a form-fitting tailored trouser suit and shirt.

  “Well, don’t you look all dapper.” David smirked. “Hot date tonight?”

  Maggie shook her head, looking almost bashful.

  Nora was gawping at her again. God, stop it!

  “No, I’m not… I’m… Never mind. I’ve got a presentation to give to some of the directors this afternoon, so thought I’d better smarten up.”

  “Well, I think you look delicious.” David gave her a wink.

  She blushed ever so slightly before meeting Nora’s eyes.

  And then it was Nora’s turn to blush because she was staring yet again. She pulled her gaze away and stared instead at the screen in front of her.

  David passed the note back to her from where it was still sitting on his desk.

  “Love notes too?” Maggie grinned, although it seemed a little forced.

  “Not mine,” replied David before Nora could stop him. “Hers.”

  Maggie met Nora’s embarrassed stare but said nothing, which astounded Nora. Surely that was a topic ripe for Maggie to rip into? Instead, she gave Nora a sad half smile and then turned back to her own screen without a word.

  Nora spent the day hunched over her screen, determined not to look at Maggie. She was baffled by her continuing reaction to the woman, which was bordering on the ridiculous. They hadn’t spoken much, mainly because Nora kept trying to avoid doing just that. But she had to admit to the pleasure she had gained from the few conversations they had shared and everything she’d learned about Maggie from the conversations she’d heard her having with David. Her clear love of literature, her affection for her dog, her love of cooking. Knowledge of all these things, along with Maggie’s irrefutable, all-around bloody hotness, had led to Nora feeling completely befuddled. She didn’t want to like her, especially after her brash display that first week. But everything she had done since then had been anything but brash.

  On Friday, the digital team decided on impromptu drinks at the pub after work. Maggie declined, said good-bye as they left the building, and headed off in the direction of the Tube station.

  Nora willed herself not to watch her go, much as she willed herself not to be disappointed that Maggie wasn’t joining them.

  David pinned her down, figuratively, after their first drink.

  “Time to spill,” he said,
out of the blue, as they sipped their second glasses of wine.

  Nora stared at him. “Spill what?”

  “What’s going on in that cute little head of yours?” When she started to protest, he held up a hand. “It is very obvious to me—and no one else, I hasten to add—that you are very preoccupied with something. Or should that be someone?” He stared her down until she felt the blush inflame her cheeks. “You know she’s involved with someone now. Save yourself the heartache—get past it, find someone else, whatever you need to do. She’s got a reputation, even if she is temporarily off the market. And I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “I know,” said Nora. She sighed and hung her head. “God, how could I get myself in this position? I don’t even like her!”

  David laughed. “Yeah, keep preaching that line to yourself and maybe you’ll be okay.”

  Nora left the pub after that second drink, too down in the dumps to pretend to be sociable after David’s astute observations had exposed her. How could she be falling for Maggie? It was just…impossible. She grew grumpier by the minute as she walked up the road towards the Tube station. Gradually, she became aware of the chill in the air as she stomped up the road and shoved her cold hands into her coat pockets to warm them.

  The fingers of her right hand rustled against a folded piece of paper. Trembling, her heart suddenly pounding, she curled her fingers around it and pulled it from her pocket. It was another note—same paper, same font. She hurried over to a streetlight, which cast its yellow-orange glow across the paper as she read.

  Watching you leave tonight was so desperately hard. Another two days without your face to gaze upon, your smile to warm me. Another two days of dreaming crazy dreams, of wondering what could be. I have retreated into one of my all-time favourites, Jane Eyre, this week. I imagine you would class that one in your top five somewhere, just like me.