Page 102 of Thick

He cocked his head to the side and gave me a look. “How can you be so sure?”

“When you know, you know,” I said. “And, I know.”

“You know what?”

“That she’s the one.”

“Most think they know. When I met Maddie, I knew. It wasn’t a week, or even a month. I knew on our first date. Asked her to marry me after four weeks.”

I laughed. “Four weeks?”

“Four.”

“If I wrote that in a book, I’d be crucified.”

His brow furrowed. “For what?”

“Insta-love.”

“What’s insta-love?”

“It’s when a couple falls in love instantly.”

“It wasn’t instant. It was a month.”

“A month’s instant in the book world,” I said.

He grabbed the empty cup and turned toward the coffee pot. “The book world is stupid as shit.”

I finished my cup of coffee and stood. “You’re right about that. A man ought to be able to tell the story the way it unravels, and people ought to accept it.”

“They damned sure ought to,” he said.

I handed him my empty cup. “But they don’t.”

“They’re horse’s asses. Tell ‘em to write their own damned books if they don’t like yours.”

“I wish I could,” I said. “Believe me.”

“You leaving?”

“I need to.”

He shook my hand. “Nice seeing you again, Tate.”

I tugged at the bottom of my kutte and gave a nod. “Nice seeing you, James.”

He poured a cup of coffee and turned to the side. “Working on anything yet?”

“Writing another right now.”

“Write what you want,” he said. “It’ll appeal to someone. You’ll just need to find ‘em.”

“That’s the trick. Finding them.”

“I’m just an old man, but it sure looks to me like you’re good at finding what it is you want.”

“I’m just stubborn. And, I’m a prick. I don’t take no for an answer.”