Contents (126)
- The Meeting Point
- Olivia Lara
- Contents
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- A YEAR LATER
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- June 2
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- June 3
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- June 4
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Help Wanted: Seasonal employment, June–August
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- June 5
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- June 6
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- June 7
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- June 8
- Forty
- Forty-One
- June 9
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- June After Midnight: By Ethan Delphy
- Chapter 15
- Fifty-Two
- June After Midnight
- Chapter 20
- Fifty-Three
- June After Midnight
- Chapter 21
- June After Midnight
- Chapter 22
- Fifty-Four
- June After Midnight
- Chapter 28
- Fifty-Five
- June After Midnight
- Chapter 29
- June After Midnight
- Chapter 30
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- June 11
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- June 12
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- June 13
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- June 14
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- June 15
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- June 16
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- Eighty-Four
- Eighty-Five
- June After Midnight
- Chapter 28 (Draft 1 Version)
- Eighty-Six
- Eighty-Seven
- Eighty-Eight
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Also by Olivia Lara
Seventeen
I’m taking a final look around the apartment. Half a decade comes with some nostalgia for sure. I thought I was happy here for a while. Things were good. Fresh out of college, starting my journalism career, I was in a relationship with a man all my girlfriends wanted to date.
We’re not the same people we used to be back in 2013. I’m not the same person.
I’m about to go out the door when my cell rings. It’s Alisa.
She sounds agitated, and her voice is pitchy—a sign that she’s excited about something.
“You won’t believe what I’m reading now.”
“What?”
A locked-room mystery? A baffling disappearance? Definitely another submission she’s enthusiastic about. Alisa now handles the Thriller/Mystery Fiction Division for her publisher. She’s been on a roll lately, signing new authors left and right. I got to read some of those early copies—she always mails them to me—and every time I do, I understand why she wants to sign those authors right away, and I get jealous and insecure all over again.
“Listen, OK? This is Max Meridian’s story, a thirty-something unlucky in love Californian who has big dreams of becoming a successful artist but works as a rideshare driver to make a living. On a day like any other, while Max is on his way to pick up a client, a phone rings inside his car. A woman is calling. When Max answers, he doesn’t imagine that in the next twenty-four hours, this woman will mend his lonely heart and make him believe again in the magic of love and fate. Will this story end tragically or with a happily ever after when the morning comes and he doesn’t meet her as planned? Inspired by the real-life love story of a young artist the author has known all of his life. This is a deeply touching and spellbindingly beautiful novel about the kind of love that once found, cannot ever be forgotten, about the magic of serendipity and the heartbreak of ill timing.”
I gasp. “What is this?”
“The blurb for a book that’s about to be published.”
“A book? One of your books?”
Such a dumb reaction, but my brain is completely blocked.
“Does this sound like a thriller to you? Nothing to do with me or our imprint. I just heard about it from a scout I met who couldn’t stop raving about it so I got her to send me the blurb. Apparently, the man who wrote the novel is a New York Times bestselling author, but I’m not up to date with romance authors. His name is Ethan Delphy.”
“Ethan Delphy,” I repeat. “Can you please read the whole thing again? And slowly.”
She chuckles. “Sure.”
When she finishes, I’m just as shocked as I was the first time she read it.
After I finished my manuscript, I wrote a blurb for it as a way of killing time. I don’t know if I kept it, but it sounded just like this one. Except it wasn’t the story of Max Meridian, the driver who meets a woman, it was the story of Dawn Davis who meets a driver in California.