A cold feeling started in my gut, tendrils spreading cancer. My fingers grew stiff and numb. I gripped my phone tighter, staring at the photo and the caption, willing them to vanish from the screen. The comment right below the pictures caught my eyes.
Oh my God! Killian Axelrod! I had no idea he read your books or that you guys knew each other! This is so awesome! He’s my favorite, and so are you!!!!
Emily had responded: Thank you so much! I hope you like my new book coming on May 5! Don’t forget to let your friends know!
The commenter had written: Don’t worry! I’m sharing this in his fan group and all my friends!
What the hell was this about? And if Emily was going to use me to promote her book anyway, why had she declined my offer yesterday?
My exes flashed through my mind.
I only wanted an introduction, is it such a big deal?
Smile! I want to put this on my Instagram!
What’s the problem, Killian? I just wanted everyone to share in our happy moment.
The last bitter argument had come from Caitlyn. She hadn’t understood why it wasn’t okay to use me—and our intimate moments—to increase her following and popularity. Why I didn’t want to livestream the proposal so that everyone in the world could be part of something that should’ve remained private.
Emily had made it sound like she didn’t want or need me for that. Like she wanted to build a career on her own. But maybe she was just too slick to be that blatant. Or maybe she was just like others, who hoped to get away with it… Or at least milk our relationship until they got caught.
But unlike my exes, Emily had a team that took care of publicity for her. What if somebody there had used the picture without getting her approval? It was possible.
Give her a chance to explain. It might be nothing. You could be overreacting.
Emily made a growling sound in her throat, then checked something on the screen.
“Emily,” I said, gripping my phone and getting up to move to the couch where she was working. “Who does your social media?”
“Umm…” She hit a few more buttons on her laptop, then looked up. “My mother does almost all of it, but my PR company also helps out.”
“Does she do it independently?”
She looked at me oddly. “No. We talk about what we’re going to say and what pictures we’re going to use—or need to make. I trust Mom, but ultimately I’m the one in charge of my brand.”
So Emily had known what Abby was going to post…and approved it. It felt like a huge betrayal, especially after she’d declined my offer of help. I didn’t understand why she’d done it—or hadn’t come clean about using the picture from the breakfast—and I didn’t trust people whose motives I couldn’t comprehend. And I especially didn’t like people who acted nonchalant about it, like she was doing right now.
“You should’ve asked me before using my picture to promote your book.” The words came out in an ugly, seething tone, but I didn’t care.
“What are you talking about?” Emily said. “You aren’t mentioned in any of the promotions.”
I held the phone up to her face. “What do you call this?”
“What?” She squinted at the screen, then turned red. “I didn’t know anything about that. But I can check and see who posted it.”
“It’s on your page, Emily. And you just said you review what people post there for you! You wanted to use it to sell your book! No wonder it hit number one!”
She went pale. “Are you saying I wouldn’t have if it weren’t for that picture?”
“Yes.” No. Maybe. I honestly didn’t know. But I’d be damned if I gave in. She didn’t get to act all outraged after getting caught. Shouldn’t “sorry” be the first word out of her mouth?
“So you’re saying what happened is all due to you?” she demanded, her eyes flashing.
“Obviously!” A small voice in my head warned me I shouldn’t behave like I was taking credit for her success, but I ignored it. I was too pissed off. I hated that she’d acted like she didn’t need me to help with publicity—something I’d never offered to anybody else. Then she had gone behind my back and posted my picture anyway to promote herself. Maybe she’d demurred because she didn’t want to look like she was using me. She knew I despised that. But doing it behind my back wasn’t any better.
Her face crumpled for a moment, but I hardened myself. Tears, recrimination and accusations. I knew all the weapons in a woman’s arsenal.
“You’re such an asshole,” she said.
“Me?”
She opened a browser and navigated to the page in question. She deleted the post. “There. It’s gone. Happy now?”
But I wasn’t. I was too angry, too worked up because what she’d done brought back memories of other girlfriends. The unpleasant doubt—especially when I’d been so high and happy—tasted of ashes. And deleting the picture didn’t undo the fact that she’d used it. Used me. It stung. It was disappointing. And I felt like an idiot for believing what she’d said.
And I hated feeling like an idiot.
When I didn’t respond, she clenched her hands. “What do you want? Do you expect me to give you credit for everything I’ve done? My writing has nothing to do with you. I was a writer before you popped into my life, and I’ll continue to be a writer after. My accomplishments aren’t about you! You have nothing to do with it!”
“I don’t want credit,” I shot back, furious she was trying to reduce the reason for my anger to something so petty. “I just don’t want you to lie to me.”
“If you think I’m such a liar, why are you here? Get out!” She pointed at the door.
The exact same fucking repertoire. Caitlyn had done the same. The only difference between Caitlyn and Emily was that the latter wasn’t crying prettily.
I left, slamming the door behind me. But that didn’t do a thing to improve my mood. The bang as the door closed felt like a shot to my heart instead.
* * *
Emily
I stood in front of my laptop, shaking, my eyes glued to the door. I couldn’t believe Killian had yelled at me like that. Accused me of lying and using him.
All because of that picture.
Okay, so it looked bad. I didn’t know it had been posted. I hadn’t seen or heard about it, but I’d noticed that it was Mom who’d done it, since the account owner could see who had posted on their behalf. And I honestly didn’t know why she felt the need to post it, except… Well, she was a huge fan—of Killian, that was—and might’ve wanted to brag or something. Which wasn’t the smartest move.
But I was incredibly frustrated with Killian’s reaction. If he’d just asked me about it without being so nasty, I would’ve apologized. And talked to Mom and told her not to do it again. But when he got angry and then made it as though without that photo, my book would’ve languished, my temper had flared.
Because he was acting just like Dad.
I’d worked too hard to let a man make it about him. One lousy picture didn’t trump all the things I’d done—writing the book, and arranging and paying for promotion and publicity.