"What did you think of him?" Nina asked, glancing over at Elliot.

Elliot massaged her cheeks and frowned.

"I think my face is going to break from all the smiling," she said.

"Yes, but what about the guy?"

Elliot picked up the piece of paper before her, reading the name Jake Summers, before putting it back down.

"Nice enough. I liked his upbeat attitude. But a little nervous and seemed to lose track of his thoughts a little too easily," Elliot said.

Nina took the piece of paper in front of Elliot, and scribbled a few notes on it, before adding it to an already thick folder. Elliot leaned her head back, staring up at the tiled ceiling.

"How many more?" she asked.

"Six more and then we are done with Boston University," Nina said.

Elliot sucked in a breath and then let it out in a big puff of air.

"Alright. Then I get to run away and have a late lunch," Elliot glanced at her watch. "Or a really early dinner with Cece. Okay, let's get this moving."

Nina nodded. Elliot straightened her cardigan and brushed back a piece of her shoulder length brown hair as Nina pressed the intercom button.

"Let the next student in," Nina said.

A minute later the door opened and a tall, thin guy with short dirty blonde hair stepped inside. Elliot perked up in her seat, as she admired his cuffed jeans, boots, button up shirt, blazer and bow tie. He had a narrow face and light blue eyes.

The guy reached out a hand to Elliot and she took it. An easy smile slipped onto her round face and brightened her hazel eyes.

"Hi, I'm Elliot Mckenzie, and this is my publicist and all around go to woman, Nina Walker," Elliot said.

The guy shook Nina's hand and took a seat, settling one ankle across his knee, nothing but ease in his posture.

"I'm Beck Daniels," the guy said, his voice deep and even as a sheet of glass.

"It's nice to meet you Beck," Elliot said.

Beck nodded his head, but said nothing.

"You come highly recommended," Elliot said. "Your creative writing professor had nothing but wonderful things to say about you."

Beck nodded again. Elliot glanced at Nina before looking back at Beck.

"Alright, so as you are already aware, I plan on co-writing my next novel, since it will be from both points of view. This interview is just a chance for us to see if we would work well together," Elliot said. "Do you have some of your work with you?"

Beck pulled out a folder from a worn leather satchel and handed it over.

"Great. Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?" Elliot said.

Something flickered across Beck's features, but was gone before Elliot quite knew what she saw.

"I understand that this is necessary," Beck said, his tone calm, barely hinting at inflection. "But I also understand that time is money and will skip to the chase. I believe your search for you co-author is done. I've read all four of your previous works and completely understand your style. Each story is based in a small quaint town, the state is just changed for each one. Your main girl character's name always starts with an A and the main guy character starts with a D. You have the witty side character that also has sage advice when the main character is struggling. Parents aren't part of the picture and at least one person is dead before the book has started." *

Elliot felt her face growing redder as Beck talked, breaking down her stories into systemic categories.

"As I have said, I just read your books and I understand what you are going for. I could help you write this book in a little over a month. I see no reason to have a long interview when our timeframe would be that short," Beck said.

Elliot stared at him, her mouth slightly ajar, her body aching from holding herself so rigid. Nina coughed, breaking Elliot from her thoughts.

"Who do you think you are?" * Elliot said, her words bursting from her throat. "Coming in here like you are my God sent and telling me that you are the one? Do you know how many people I have interviewed, and had the decency to act like they wanted to be here?"

Beck frowned slightly.

"I was merely trying to move along the progress," Beck said. "I understand that you have had a lot of interviews and thought I could bring your labors to a quick close."

"Yes, well thank you for being so thoughtful. I'm sure you can find your way out," Elliot said.

Beck stood, still frowning slightly and left the room. Elliot glared at his back the entire time.

"Where the heck does he get off talking down to me!" Elliot said, standing and moving towards the windows.

She pulled one open and sucked in a deep breath. A warm, early summer breeze drifted into the room, trailing in the scent of salt water and freshly cut grass.

"Well, I guess I don't need to ask you what your thoughts about him," Nina said. "Do you want me to toss his work? Or would you prefer to burn it later with Cece?"

Elliot faced Nina, a smile erasing her scowl.

"Put it with the rest, I might find it amusing to read Mr. high and mighty's work later on. Let's get the rest of these interviews done with, I'm going a little stir crazy being in this room."

"Yes, it's the room that's gotten to you," Nina said, smiling.

Elliot glared at her.

"Just call the next one."

She sank into her chair as Nina hit the intercom button. Elliot let out a frustrated breath. She schooled her features as the door opened and a smiley guy walked in.

Two hours later Elliot collapsed back in her chair, letting out a weary sigh. Nina neatened the stack of papers.

"Done with that," she said.

"Yes, thank goodne-"

The door to their room opened and a girl, in her early twenties with long brown hair, hazel eyes and a giddy smile stepped in.

"Oh my gosh! It's you!" the girl said, her voice high and excited.

Elliot smirked.

"I love your work! The fact that you got your first book published when you were in high school is so inspiring." Elliot rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "And I can't even believe that you have four novels published and you're not even 21. I'm your biggest fan!"

Elliot laughed.

"I'm pretty sure that's the understatement of the century," Elliot said. "You were the first person to read my originals. The ones that were unorganized and ten thousand words too long."

The girl gave a careless shrug, the enthusiastic expression dropping.

"What can I say El, I'm the best older sister you have ever had," Cece said.

Elliot laughed and stretched, her arms protesting the motion.

"That's not hard to be when you're the one I live with."

"Fair point. Now are we going to kick this popsicle stand?" Cece asked.

"Do people even say that anymore?"

"Darned if I know. I don't make a habit of conversing with people."

"A wise move, some of them turn out to be rather odd. And yes let's go."

Elliot stood and winced as her feet tingled. Nina held out a thick folder.

"Elliot, these are the samples of work from today. Read them and let me know which ones we are cutting."

Elliot nodded and accepted the folder.

"How did the interviews go?" Cece asked.

Elliot shook her head and started towards the exit, Cece beside her.

"Have I got a story for you, dear sister," Elliot said.

****************

A bell dinged over head, as Elliot pushed open the door to the cafe. The smell of bitter coffee and fresh pastries floated over the sound of chattering voices.

"He seriously said that?" Cece asked, incredulous. "With a straight face and everything?"

Elliot nodded.

"I still can't completely believe he said it," Elliot said.

As they stepped up to the counter, Elliot smirked. Leaning against the wall, reading a book was a guy with tan skin, long black hair and handsome features. Cece and Elliot exchanged an amused look.

"Milo what is your opinion of male college students?" Cece asked.

The guy looked at them over his book, his eyes lingering on Elliot, with a studying gaze. A lopsided smile came to his lips as he snapped the book closed.

"Being such a specific male, I have to inform you that we are deplorable creatures with no redeeming factors, and too high of a regard for ourselves," Milo said. *

Elliot waved her hand at Milo as she looked to Cece.

"He even admits it," Elliot said.

Milo rested his arms on the counter.

"Interviews going well then?" he asked.

"You know exactly how they are going, that's why you said what you did," Elliot said.

Milo shrugged.

"Not my fault your face is an easy read novel," Milo said. "I felt it was the answer you were looking for. I, being a good friend, provided you with it." Milo looked to Cece, his smile widening. "Hi Cece."

"Milo, do you find it heightens your customers experience, to keep them waiting for you to take their order?" Cece asked.

Milo ran a hand though his hair, giving her an easy smile.

"In my long study of being a cashier, I have found that the majority of the female populous don't mind the wait, while I'm working," Milo said. "Infer what you will from that information."

"I infer that you are a conceited flirt," Cece said, carelessly. "And your previous statement, though said in mockery, is in fact the truth. You have far too high of regard for yourself and you're deplorable."

Milo straightened, placing one hand over his heart, his expression turning playful.

"Such harsh words my dear lady. I fear if you continue in this manner my heart will not be safe from your endless charm."

Cece rolled her eyes and Elliot burst out laughing.

"To save my poor heart, I will take your order. What do you want?" Milo asked, splaying his hands on the counter.

"Two chicken panini sandwiches and two chocolate chips cookies," Cece said. "And can you join us? El has a story that will prove that your analysis of your fellow man is on point, in this instant."

Milo glanced down at his watch.

"Sure, I can give you a few minutes, only because you begged me to. I would never want to make you feel you are not valued," Milo said.

Elliot leaned against the glass display, her lips curved into a wry smile.

"And people wonder where I get my witty material from sometimes," Elliot said.

Milo looked at her, his brown eyes holding a teasing glint.

"Good to know I can always lend a hand to your literary work," Milo said. "Though I've always known you base your leading males on me."

Elliot shook her head, looking to Cece.

"I sometimes wonder why we put up with him," Elliot said.

Cece shrugged, making a face.

"He has his moments," she said.

Milo gave them a smug look.

"And I'm irresistible," he said.

"But if you think about them," Elliot said. "Those moments are few and far between."

"True," Cece said. "We could always dump him for Steve over at the corner bakery."

Elliot's face lit up in mock delight.

"Yes, I like Steve. He has great eyes," Elliot said.

"Good hair too," Cece commented.

"Okay, hold it right there," Milo said, holding up his hands. "My hair is amazing. Steve looks like something died on his head and he forgot about it."

Elliot and Cece ignored him.

"I hear he also isn't as big a flirt," Cece said.

"I heard that too! He also gets you your order within half an hour," Elliot said. *

As if practiced, both girls turned their heads to Milo.

"Ha. Ha. I wonder why I bother putting up with you two," Milo said.

Cece gave him a stunning smile, her eyes beaming with mischief.

"Because we are adorable and love you for your brain and not your looks," Cece said.

"You're right," Milo deadpanned. "I hate it when woman only want me for my body. Looking at me like I'm a piece of eye candy."

He walked away as they started laughing.

"Let's sit," Elliot said. "If we keep standing, he's likely to come back to talk and then we will die of starvation."

Cece nodded and they moved over to a table in the corner. Elliot rested her elbows on the table, her thoughts wandering back to the interviews. She threw her hands up.

"I mean seriously, how could he say those things," she said.

Cece shrugged.

"How he could say those things, I understand," Cece said. "How he had the nerve to say them is completely beyond my understanding."

Elliot gave her a look.

"You do realize what you just said, made absolutely no sense right?"

Cece made a placating gesture.

"What I'm saying is I know those things he said are true, I'm just baffled how he could say them to your face," Cece said.

Elliot looked at her dumbfounded.

"Are you serious?" Elliot said. "You're agreeing with him?"

Cece laughed, the sound like soft music.

"Of course I agree with him," Cece said, her tone light. "You do too for that matter, that's why you're so pissed."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing here! You have gone completely bonkers."

Cece cocked her head.

"Do people really say bonkers any more?" she asked.

Elliot gave her a flat look and Cece waved away the comment.

"Right, beside the point. El, what I'm saying is we both know that he nailed your books. You're only mad because he said it to your face, and then had the gall to suggest you work together."

Elliot's expression hardened and Cece put her hand on Elliot's arm.

"El, don't be pissed at me. It's me you're talking to. I've listened to every crappy idea you have ever had and encouraged you in it. As you have done the same for me." Cece removed her hand and shrugged. "Besides, you don't really have a reason to be pissed. All four books have been extremely successful and A Spark of Hope made it on New York Times best selling list. His words only have as much effect as you let them."

Elliot's face softened and her shoulders relaxed.

"I guess. Thanks, I think."

Cece gave her a bright smile.

"Any time! Besides, now that you are so blatantly aware of what you do, you can easily change it for this next book. Win win for all of us. Except Beck, he should go jump off a cliff," Cece said.

Elliot laughed, the last of her annoyance melting away. Milo slid two plates onto the table, steam raising in thin curls from the hot sandwiches. He pulled out a chair and spun it around, sitting down, his arms resting on the back.

"Look at you bringing us food that is actually hot," Cece said, in mock surprise.

"Watch what you say, or I might eat it myself," Milo said. He turned to Elliot, his expression expectant. "Now what is this story you have to tell me?"

*****************

The sun was low in the sky, its golden light bouncing off sides of buildings and flashing through the tops of trees, as Cece and Elliot walked home. Red brick houses snuggled close together and lined the street. Stone steps rimmed by black railings led up to stately wooden doors. Elliot and Cece's conversation came to a halt as they froze outside their house.

"Do you remember leaving on the lights when you left?" Elliot asked, her tone hesitant.

"No."

They looked at each other. Beyond the door they caught the faint wisp of music. Smiles broke across their faces, as they rushed inside. They hurried past the small entry way and down a short hallway to the kitchen, the music growing in volume. They paused in the doorway. From behind the refrigerator door emerged a lean guy in his early thirties, with striking features and tousled brown hair. He gave them a nod in salute when he noticed them.

"When did you get back, dearest brother?" Elliot asked, a smile still conquering her face.

Tristan deposited his stack of food onto the kitchen table and took a seat. Elliot and Cece quickly joined him, pulling out anything that caught their fancy.

"This afternoon," Tristan said.

He popped the lid of a peanut butter jar and coated a piece of toast with the contents.

"How was Seattle?" Cece asked, picking apart a cluster of grapes.

"Better than Houston, but not as great as San Francisco."

"The dancers just not take to your choreography?" Elliot asked.

"They were alright," Tristan said. "Just some of them were more Classical ballerinas than modern, so they had a difficult time with some of the moves."

"How long are you staying?" Cece asked.

Tristan shrugged.

"A couple weeks. Then I have a job in Chicago. They want me to choreograph a half an hour classic ballet piece. Should be fun," Tristan said, his tone lacking any sort of enthusiasm.

Before Elliot got the chance to respond the table started buzzing. Cece looked down and silenced her phone.

"Michelle," Cece said, to Elliot's questioning look.

"Don't answer, we still haven't bought our bridesmaids dresses, " Elliot asked.

"Okay, but we have to pick them up soon," Cece said. "Have either of you decided what you are getting her for a wedding present?"

Tristan shook his head, looking completely unconcerned about it.

"I have no idea," Elliot said. "What do you get a Californian that says 'we're related, but we don't relate to each other anoymore'"

"A fruit basket," Cece said.

Tristan and Elliot burst into laughter, the sound ringing around the kitchen.

"Well," Tristan said, standing. "This has been lovely, but I'm going to leave you both now."

Cece looked at her watch.

"Thus our brother, The Recluse, The Introvert, has deigned to give us a full five minutes of his precious talking time, we feel honored," she said.

"As you should feel," Tristan said.

Elliot watched Tristan leave, a contented smile on her lips.

"Now, what shall we do?" Cece asked.

In answer Elliot lifted up the thick folder, filled with pages of students works.

"Care to join me in the reading of some works?" Elliot asked.

They rose and moved into a spacious living room, decorated in soft creams and blues. Bay windows looked out onto the street. Elliot plopped onto the plush couch and curled her legs beneath her. Cece flipped on lights before sitting on the opposite end. Elliot set the folder between herself and Cece and pulled out the first group of papers. Silence settled around them as they fell to reading.

The last of the day's light vanished from the sky and the street lamps glowed brighter in the darkness. Elliot stretched and reached for the next stapled set of pages.

"El."

"Hmmm?" Elliot said, her attention still on the paper before her.

"El, you have to read this...it's...you have to read this," Cece said, a hint of awe in her tone.

Elliot shifted, so she sat beside Cece. She started reading, half her mind somewhere else until she reached the end of the first sentence. She shook her head and reread the first line. As she kept reading, she slowly leaned in more and more, her mouth opening. The work held the beauty of a painting. Each sentence alive with vivid color and detail. Every word a precise brush stroke. When Elliot reached the end, she let out a breathless, wow.

"Did I just-" Elliot started to say.