Free Handling Cynthia: A Second Chances Novella by Andrea Dalling Page B

people—they fascinated her. But sometimes, she couldn't figure them out, couldn't find the right words to relate to them. That was the great thing about writing. If she got it wrong the first time, she could revise until she got it right.
    After she had left the ad agency to write fiction full time, her life became solitary. One reason she stayed in New York, rather than moving to her parents’ guest house in Connecticut, was to live surrounded by the pulse of the city. In the suburbs, she could spend days never leaving home. In her studio with the tiny refrigerator, she had to go to the market nearly every day. Getting out, seeing people, experiencing life was vital to a storyteller, no matter how introverted.
    Yet she was uncomfortable with these people, the ones she went to high school with. After transferring there sophomore year, she had tried to fit in. Despite the three years she'd lived in this town as a teenager, it had never felt like home.
    Hell, she wasn't sure what home felt like. She'd spent her entire childhood moving around—Austin, Charlotte, San Diego, and finally this nowhere town in Pennsylvania. She'd been in Manhattan for the five years since graduation, and that was the longest she'd lived anywhere.
    Her gaze wandered toward the elevators, watching for Trent. She sat on a couch near the front desk and checked her book sales on her phone. With eight novellas out in eight months, she was becoming known as an author. November was a notoriously slow month, though. She was looking forward to the December holiday buyers.
    A shadow fell over her, a figure blocking the light. She looked up, and Trent smiled at her, looking fit in jeans and a knit navy-blue shirt that hugged his shoulders and biceps. A lock of black hair hung low on his forehead, skimming one brow.
    She couldn't get enough of that handsome face with those sharp eyes and wicked smile. He didn't have Rick's smooth, drop-dead-gorgeous thing going on, which was actually kind of boring once you got used to it. Trent's face had character—a rough, dangerous quality that Rick utterly lacked.
    She rose and stood close to Trent without touching him. An electric charge sparked between them. The rumbling in her belly had nothing to do with hunger—not for food, at least.
    "We should get a table," he said.
    She nodded, and he guided her into the breakfast room with a hand at the small of her back. A sense of security washed over her. As long as he was watching out for her, everything would be fine.
    Or so she thought, until they passed a bleached-blond former cheerleader who called out, "Hey, Cyn, heard that Madison Avenue job didn't work out." The smirk on her fake-tanned face raised the ire in Cyn's chest. Her stomach bottomed out, and her mouth grew dry.
    She'd left the ad agency voluntarily. In less than a year as an author, her monthly income was comparable to what it had been as a copy writer. She was living her dream, yet Malibu Barbie had painted it as a failure.
    Her dad hadn't been happy when she'd left the agency, after he'd pulled strings to get her the job. She loved the creativity, but the adrenaline-fueled environment left her jumpy. Her appetite faded, and she struggled to sleep. As an independent author, she set her own schedule, her own deadlines. She didn't answer to anyone but her fans.
    Trent's hand stroked her back. "Don't let her get to you," he said in her ear.
    Tears stung her eyes. "I was never anything but nice to her."
    "You're nice to everyone, Cyn. It makes you an easy target. She's locked in that high school mindset—you've risen above it. You were always above it."
    A sigh opened the constriction in her chest. If people whose lives were smaller than hers comforted themselves by mocking her, she could live with that.
    She swallowed around the knot in her throat.
    Trent chose a table for four in the corner near the window. "You sit. I'll get you some breakfast."
    "I can get my own breakfast."
    He gave her a sweet smile,