I had always heard that if you wanted to be someone, go to where you could be seen. In most times they were talking about Hollywood. A place where the elite go to work and have fun.
I didn't come here to be found or to become someone. I decided to come here because I had become someone different than I ever was before. I thought, "what the heck, I'll go and see what fate had in store for me."
A year ago, my husband passed away. He had been my rock and my life. Without him I had delved back into my deep depression. After months of not being able to anything besides pay the rent, go grocery shopping pathetically, and get sad looks from everyone, I had enough. I sold off most of our stuff. Packed up one of the suitcases. Packed up the cats we had. Packed up and shipped anything I couldn't live without, and moved out here.
I dropped off the little world that I had known and was now starting a new. I keep in contact still with everyone, but just the occasional message to let them know I was alive. I see what their doing and always feel the ping of jealousy seeing that they were alright. I'm just the one that had really lost someone.
A few months after coming out here, I got the initiative to take one of my many completed stories to a publishing company. I walked right in and asked how much it would be to have them print one of my stories and help refine it too. They had looked at me a little funny before they told me. They had told me no one ever does that anymore. I just smiled and said I really wanted to get published.
When my husband had died, he had two life insurance policies that equaled up to three million dollars. He wanted to make sure I was taken care of in case he died unexpectedly. I used most of the money to buy my condo here and some to pay the expenses for the first run of my first novel. I didn't have to worry for a few years if I didn't want to.
But with my first novel coming out, I was going to be earning my living that way. My editor was already looking at another of my story as the company was ecstatic with my first story. They were happy I had came in and got myself known. I've also been finishing some of my series books for review next.
Before my husband had died, he had made sure I had anything I wanted to see that I am able to write anywhere anytime I want. I even have the latest tablet with a portable bluetooth keyboard so I can really write anywhere. It even fits in my purse for ease of portability.
Right now I'm going to one of the famous restaurants that all those who were anyone ate at. I knew that I wouldn't be able to get an actual table, so I opted to dine at the bar.
The handsome bartender smiled at me. "So what will it be?"
I smiled at him. "Cabernet."
He smiled brightly as he went to get me my red wine. While he was gone, I pulled out my tablet and got ready to write some more. After he came back, I told him what I'd like to eat starting with the appetizers. He just smile and nodded before he went off.
I wrote as I sat there at the end of the bar. I rarely looked up from my keyboard as thats how I write. People came and went. I saw flashes of cameras as celebrity came and went. I stayed for a few hours just typing away. I ordered food when I finished with something giving myself some time between the food.
I raised my eyebrows to the bartender when he set a martini down next to me. He held his hand up. "You have an admirer." My eyebrows went higher. He looked down the bar and pointed to a guy.
The guy was tall and slightly built. His hair was dark and wavy. It fell to his chin. He had green eyes as he looked intently at me. He had an air of way too much confidence and self importance.
I pushed to martini to the bartender. "Will you send it back? That's not my thing." I turned back to writing as he chuckled and took the drink to the guy.
A moment later, someone tapped on my shoulder. I finished the paragraph of my story before I turned to the person with an eyebrow raised. The man stood next to me with his side leaning against the bar. "Not your thing?" He had an eyebrow raised at me.