Gemotions

The dial tone droned in Amelia’s ear, a maddening, repetitive sound that seemed to amplify the frustration bubbling inside her. She slammed the phone down, the plastic receiver rattling against the mahogany desk. Why wouldn't he pick up?

She’d spent the entire morning preparing, picking out the perfect bookshop to meet at, the right outfit, the appropriate opening line. The image of the shop's door remained in her mind’s eye, a reminder of the things that were being held back. This meeting was all she had looked forward to all week. Her hands balled into fists on the desk. This was taking forever.