Mr. Write [COMPLETED]

Chapter 17 - "I'm going to become a nun!"

"You can't be serious?!" Elliot said.

Everything in Nina's expression and posture told Elliot she was serious. Elliot slumped back in her chair, her arms crossed.

The office, like its owner, was immaculate. Beyond the wall of glass, that looked into the rest of the office building, assistants rushed about, frazzled expressions on their young faces, and manuscripts clutched in their hands.

"Elliot," her publicist said. "You signed a contract to work with Beck. You need to stay with that contract. He has not broken any part of the agreement. If you decide to dissolve the contract he would legally have grounds to sue you."

Elliot huffed and stood up. She strode to the window, glaring out at the city. The gray clouds had slipped away with the morning.  Bright afternoon sunlight smiled down on the city. Elliot felt as if she was the only one who wanted the gray to return, the color agreeing with her mood.

"Elliot," Nina said, her tone patient. "You made a decision to accept Beck as your cowriter. You had many chances to say no. Now, you have to deal with the consequences of that decision."

Elliot ran a troubled hand through her hair before she dropped her hands into her pockets.

"Do you understand?" Nina asked, trying to read the state of Elliot's thoughts through her silence and stance.

"Yes," Elliot breathed out. "I understand. I'm stuck with Beck whether I like it or not."

"I'm afraid so," Nina said.

Elliot nodded, her reflection staring back at her with a resigned expression. Turning, she found Nina watching her with a concerned look in her eye.

"Thank you for seeing me," Elliot said.

Nina gave her a small smile and nodded. Elliot picked up her satchel and left the office. The noise around her doubled as she made her way through the crowded office space.

An elevator ride later, Elliot found herself back on the street, motionless in the tide of pedestrians. Figuring she couldn't stay there forever wrapped up in her thoughts, she headed home.

From the quietness of the house, Elliot guessed Cece had found some spark of inspiration. Or she had left in search of the spark. Or to find a distraction that would lull the spark into a false sense security before she could jump on it. Tossing her satchel onto the table, she made her way into the living room. She tucked herself into the window seat and stared down onto the empty street. Time seemed to move on without her, the shadows shifting beneath her gaze.

Elliot only had a vague idea of how long she had been sitting from the ache in her muscles when the front door opened. A loud thunk echoed in the entryway as Tristan dropped his suitcase. He walked past the living room archway but paused at the sight of Elliot.

"Hey slacker," he said.

Elliot looked at him.

"That was a short trip," she said. "How was Baltimore?"

"Worse than Philly but better than Dallas."

Elliot nodded, but had no response. Tristan crossed his arms, his brown eyes studying her.

"Alright, come on," he said, nodding to the door.

Elliot slid off the seat and moved over to him.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said. "I guess we'll figure it out on the way there."

Elliot followed Tristan out the door. In the presence of her current companion the sunlight didn't feel so out of place. They walked in silence, neither feeling the need to voice their thoughts or say something just to fill the air.