by Dacia Quinn
“A bit.”
“Happy with the result? Happy with the process? Happy with me as your editor?”
“That’s a lot of happiness you’re demanding.”
“Are you unhappy, then? Is that an easier question?”
“I’m happy. In fact—and this is going to be difficult to say—thank you.”
“For what?”
“Being an asshole.”
He laughs. “You’re welcome. It’s my job.”
“You don’t have to be so smug about it.” I fold my arms. “Much as I hate to admit it, your being an asshole made the book better. I needed someone willing to prod me.”
“You’re not going to accuse me of trying to change you again, are you?”
“No. That was just a good narrative. A story I liked to tell myself to justify my irritation.”
“You don’t need a justification. If you hadn’t been irritated, I doubt it would have worked.”
“Anyway, you know what they say. Kill your darlings. I can ... appreciate what you did.”
“And not take it personally?”
“Still working on that.” I frown. Why would I expect him to make this easier for me? “I’m trying to apologize, here.”
“And doing a remarkable job of it considering your mountain-like stubbornness. And it is an apology I accept—even though you have no need to offer it. But now—your second novel is complete. We should celebrate. Come out for a drink with me.”
“I have friends coming over later. Maybe you should join me.”
“Maybe I was hoping for something more private.”
“This is when I’m supposed to swoon and fall into your arms.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I’m not sure you’re supposed to do anything. Though, I wouldn’t necessarily mind...”
“You’re probably used to getting what you want, right?”
“What do you think?”
“That I’d enjoy the opportunity to deny it to you.”
He laughs loud at that and grins widely. “And there’s Nara. I knew you had to have some of that in you somewhere. All I’d been seeing was the self-conscious, shy woman from that first meeting.”
“I wasn’t self-conscious!”
“You looked like you wanted to bolt from the moment you walked in.”
I’m tempted to tell him why—that I had been hot and bothered, not to mention turned on by the thought of Theresa. But that would have been a little too like Nara. Don’t get me wrong—I liked Nara, as a character. And yeah, she might have been like me a bit. But I wasn’t her, no matter what everyone else kept saying.
“I was afraid you’d want to talk about the scene when Nara fucks Peter in the ass with a strap-on.”
“You complain about everyone fixating on that scene, but you love using it to make people uncomfortable,” he says. “It’s not going to work on me.”
“Oh really? I wonder why that is?” I ask with a twist of my lips.
“Well, then,” he says, exiting the door first. He turns over his shoulder and flashes a grin. “You’ll just have to find out. For now, let’s go celebrate with your friends.”
He swings his perfectly tailored jacket over his shoulder, and I can’t resist a shake of my head and a roll of my eyes. But it does draw my eyes down to his ass.
Gail did have that one thing right.
Table of Contents
Title
Copyright
Dedication
1 - Rules
2 - Advances
3 - Consolation
4 - Crowds
Epilogue - Ends
