Imagine With Me (With Me in Seattle #15) - Kristen Proby

Prologue

~Lexi~

I don’t know why in the ever-loving hell I came here. Luke Williams, the producer working on the movie adaptation of my novel, invited me to come along, and he and his wife, Natalie, are lovely and welcoming…

But I’m a stranger here. This is a family gathering, celebrating Archer and Elena’s engagement, two people I never met before today.

I should have declined the invitation and stayed in, bingeing Yellowstone and eating the macaroons I made earlier.

When I’m nervous, I bake. And I’ve been a nervous wreck for days.

I don’t love traveling.

I don’t love working with others, so this whole author gig is perfect for me.

Plus, I’m painfully shy.

So when Luke invited me to come and meet some of his family, I immediately said no. And then he flashed that ridiculous smile of his, and before I knew it, I agreed to come.

At least I’ll be able to meet Shawn O’Callaghan, the man I’ll be working with over the next few weeks. Shawn is the screenwriter on the project, and I’ll be collaborating with him to make sure the script stays true to the novel.

I probably could have done this job remotely, but Luke thought working in person would be quicker and more efficient. So, he flew me from Minneapolis to Seattle, and I rented a condo in downtown Seattle.

And now, I’m standing in the O’Callaghan Museum of Glass, surrounded by some of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen in my life, wondering how on earth I managed to get here.

“Champagne?” a waiter asks, holding out a tray.

“Thank you.” I take a flute and sip the bubbly, hoping it bolsters my confidence.

I see Luke standing with several men off to the side of the room and walk his way. I catch his eye as I approach, and he smiles.

“This is perfect timing,” he says. “Shawn, I’d like to introduce you to N—”

“Lexi Perry,” I interrupt. I’d rather be introduced by my real name, not my pen name.

Shawn O’Callaghan is tall with dark hair and shrewd green eyes. His big hand holds a whiskey, his long fingers wrapped around the glass as those eyes take me in from head to toe.

I see interest reflected back at me. He’s a handsome man, and his reputation is one of intelligence and stoicism.

I’ve been looking forward to meeting him.

“I asked Ms. Perry to come to town on business, and thought it was rude of me to leave her alone in the city this evening,” Luke continues. “So, I invited her here. After checking with our hosts, of course.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Archer, the groom, says with a nod. “Welcome.”

“Congratulations,” I reply and shake his hand. “I was hesitant to crash the party, but Natalie and Luke assured me it would be okay. And I have to say, your family is incredibly welcoming.”

“We always have room for more,” Archer assures me. “What do you do, Lexi?”

“I’m a writer.”

Archer lifts a brow and turns to the man next to him. “Oh? Shawn’s also a writer. What do you write?”

“Novels,” I say and turn to the screenwriter, but he holds up a hand, stopping me.

“I’m not here to entertain any new projects tonight,” Shawn says, immediately cutting me off.

He thinks I’m trying to network with him? To get him to read something I’ve written and further my career?

Well, screw him.

My face goes from friendly to cold in a heartbeat. Luke sighs.

This is a fantastic way to start this working relationship.

“That’s convenient,” I say, ice dripping from every damn word. “I’m not here to pitch a project to you, Mr. O’Callaghan. I know who you are, but it’s not terribly important to me. I do fine all on my own. Have a good night, gentlemen.”

I give a curt nod and turn away, my heels clicking on the hardwood floor as I make a hasty retreat.

I want to get out of here.

The audacity! What a jerk. I was already nervous about being here. Now, I get the disappointment of knowing I have to work with a conceited ass who’s clearly completely full of himself.

“Lexi.”

I don’t turn around.

“Lexi.”

A hand lightly latches on to my elbow, and I turn to find Shawn staring down at me, his mouth set in a grim line.

“I owe you an apology. I didn’t know you were Nora, the author I’ll be working with over the next few weeks.”

“If you’d known, you would have been polite?”

He winces. “Again, I apologize. It’s been a shit day, and I was trying to avoid work talk. Not my

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