Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“But I write science fiction, so not really.”
Four
Emerson
When I called him, he didn’t answer.
I sent a couple emails.
Were we really doing this again?
Who just ignored people like that? How did he become so rich if he couldn’t take care of simple responsibilities? When he dated women, did he ghost them like that? Just never answered their calls or texts?
My fate rested in this man’s hands, and I didn’t like that at all.
Mark came to my desk. “Update?”
“Sorry?” I ended the call to Derek and put the phone down.
“When will Derek Hamilton deliver?”
“Oh…” It’d been a week since I’d stopped by his place, and I had no idea if he’d written a single page even though he said he would try. He didn’t give me a deadline either. But my boss stared at me like I was on my last strike, so I just said whatever I needed to say to save my own ass. “Three months.”
“Three months. That’s final?”
I nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“Because I’m going to start everything for production, and if he doesn’t deliver, it’s your head, Emerson.”
I stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hallway to his front door. I sent him a text to make it less surprising. I’ll be at your front door in a few seconds.
The three little dots didn’t pop up.
When I reached his front door, I waited a few minutes, to give him an opportunity to read it in case he was doing something.
But I grew impatient and knocked.
He opened it a second later, and the glare he gave me was psychotic.
I was actually a little scared. “If you just answered your phone—”
He shut the door in my face.
“I’m sooooo gonna get fired.”
Voices sounded on the other side of the door, but they were difficult to make out. The door opened again, this time wider, and revealed a gorgeous blonde bombshell with a tiny waist, long legs, and boobs that were big and probably fake. She was like a doll, with perfectly styled hair and bright eyes. Her purse was over her shoulder, and she took one look at me and scowled.
I just stared, unsure what to do.
“This is your editor?” She turned to Derek and snapped at him right in front of me.
Derek didn’t raise his voice. In fact, he lowered it. “Fleur.” It obviously wasn’t the first time he’d addressed her that way because she turned complacent. She tightened the purse over her shoulder and walked out, dogging me like the mean girl in the cafeteria. Then she strutted down the hallway, her hips shaking, her posture perfectly upright. When she reached the elevator and waited for it to open, she crossed her arms over her chest and turned her face to me, staring at me without mercy.
What did I just get myself into?
Derek left the door open and entered his penthouse. The condo was a little messy, like he didn’t have a maid keeping his place clean every single day. The dining table was covered with the same parts and stacks of papers like last time. The whole place seemed like an extended office, where he kept things in odd places. He was seriously disorganized.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you and your girlfriend—”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
Well, she’d looked at me like I was trying to take her man.
He turned around, furious like before. “You only stop by someone’s residence if you have an intimate relationship. You aren’t the woman I’m sleeping with, my best friend, or my family, so you’re crossing the line. Enough.”
I should be diplomatic because I needed his help, but I was tired of his tyranny. “Then answer your goddamn phone.”
His eyes widened in slight surprise.
“You don’t want me to come here anymore? The best way to do that is to give me no reason to do so. Respond to my emails. Take my calls. You don’t want to talk on the phone? Fine. Text me. Come on, you have a super brain. Surely, you can figure out a way to communicate with me. My job is literally on the line right now, and I have to do whatever is necessary to keep it.”
His eyes were locked on mine with no response in sight.
I looked at the dining table where his laptop was open. A stack of his old books was beside it. “You’re working on it…” I moved to the dining table and grabbed one of the paperbacks, a first edition. “How far are you?” I wanted to grab his laptop and look myself, but that would be a huge breach of privacy, so I controlled myself.
He came back to the table, his hair messy because the blonde had been running her fingers through it. He was a gorgeous man, so of course, he was a playboy screwing the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen. She clearly wanted more than that, but he’d never given her a commitment. Guys like him never did. That poor woman was wasting her time.