My stomach roils. He’s done this before. That’s clear. And not only that, but he’s making it seem like it’s their idea. I need to get the hell out of here.
Standing, I head for the door.
“Where the hell are you going?”
“Anywhere that’s not here.”
“We’re not finished talking.”
I turn with my hand on the doorknob. “Oh, I think that we are.” I make sure the door slams shut before he can say anything else.
My thoughts are spinning. Michael is a snake. I was either too self-absorbed to see it earlier or he hid it better, but I feel sick having let him so close to my career for so long. How many times has he used my name to woo female writers into being his client only to push them to the edge so they fuck him?
Fucking hell. The minute I turn in this book, he gets a shit ton of money. He’s already gotten a ton of money from the advance. And if the book goes through, he will be entitled to royalties from it forever. I don’t want him getting another cent from me.
I need to call my lawyer and see if he can find any loopholes. Or have them make sure that Michael never has direct contact with me ever again. Maybe there’s some kind of legal action that I can take to get him away from any of his female clients.
After my lawyer, I need to call my editor. In my career I’ve been lucky. I’ve had the same editor since the very beginning. She knows me, trusts me, and more importantly, most of our communication doesn’t involve Michael. If I tell her this, she’ll believe me. And I have an idea that might cut him out of the picture on this deal. One that I hope will work.
Instead of the subway, I take a cab home, talking on the phone the whole time. The faster I move, the better. Michael knows that I’m pissed at him, and I don’t know what he’ll do to undermine this story and spin it his way. Now that I know he’s a master manipulator, I can’t afford to wait.
I’m just getting off the phone with my editor when the cab pulls up to my apartment. Erin isn’t here yet, which makes me happy as much as it devastates me. Because she’s the next one that I need to call.
It doesn’t matter that she’s been amazing working on my book. It doesn’t matter that she seems to be the answer to everything that I’ve been wanting forever. It doesn’t matter that our chemistry is so amazing that it’s off the fucking charts.
She’s trapped in a bad career situation, partially because of me.
Erin doesn’t need to be ghostwriting for me. She needs to be out there at another agency getting her work published because she’s just that good. And even though it hurts, she matters more than all the rest of it.
Sitting down on my couch with a sigh, I pull out my phone and dial her number.
8
Erin
This day is perfect. Weather is perfect, mood is perfect, even the streets of New York smell better. That’s what happens when you’re happy, I guess.
Everything in my life feels like a fucking dream, and I don’t want it to end. At all. I’m doing what I want—writing every day. And I’m spending the nights with Malik, who’s better than I could have imagined. Amazing conversation and insight on top of amazing sex and enough dominance to drive me absolutely crazy?
Yeah. This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
I need to send Michael a box of chocolates to thank him for giving me this opportunity. Because without him picking me for the contract, Malik and I probably never would have met. We’re at two different levels in the industry. There’s no reason that he would ever see me except for maybe passing in the halls of the agency offices.
But a girl can only wear the same clothes so many days in a row. My suitcase is already switched out with new clothes—including some lingerie that I bought on a whim that I’ve never been able to wear—and I’m just about to leave when my phone rings.
My whole body thrills when I see that it’s Malik. Honestly, everything between us has felt…effortless. And I’m dreading the end of these three weeks already. I haven’t brought it up, but I kind of want to keep it going longer than that. After tasting the kind of flavor he has, the way our minds and our kinks match up, everything, I don’t want to give it up.
It’s a little fast to say that I’m falling, but that’s exactly what it feels like: tumbling through a thousand layers of clouds toward him and feeling him at the bottom waiting to catch me.
“Hello?” I say with a smile.
“Hi.” That’s not the happy voice that I expected. I can hear the strain in his tone. “Are you still at your apartment?”
“Yeah,” I say, holding the phone between my ear and shoulder and grabbing my keys. “But I’m literally ready to walk out the door.”
Malik sighs. “I need you to stay there, Erin.”
I freeze, my whole body suddenly going on alert with adrenaline. “Why? What’s wrong?”
There’s a long silence. “You’re fired.”
It feels like the whole world slows to a stop for a second, even my heart. The clouds that I was falling through disappear and instead of Malik waiting at the bottom, it’s only rocks that have no interest in catching me. Only in destroying me. “What?” My voice is barely a ghost of itself.
“I’m sorry.”
“Wait,” I say, trying to catch my breath. “What happened? If something happened, I promise it will be okay. We don’t need to stop.”
“Yes, we do.” His voice is final. “And you should leave Michael. Go get someone who’s over the moon to publish you and eager to do it because your writing is that good. You don’t need me, and you don’t need my book. You’re better than this.”
My legs are wobbling, so I make my way to the couch and sink onto it. “Malik. What happened?”
“Nothing happened. You’re just talented. And I’m not going to let your talent hide behind my name. You deserve so much more than that.”
“Wait—”
He doesn’t. The line goes dead, and I sit there with the phone at my ear for long minutes, trying to wrap my head around what the hell just happened. Everything was fine a couple of hours ago. So clearly something happened. There’s no way he just decided this the minute that I left the apartment to get clothes.
Maybe something happened with his dad? That’s the only thing that Malik has ever been cagey about.
Last night we were happy. Laughing. And after the laughter, Malik tied my hands above my head and teased me until I was begging him to get it over with and fuck me. He didn’t. Until he was good and ready.
Tears well up behind my eyes and I drop the phone onto the couch. Sadness like a tsunami crashes over me, and I feel completely lost. Everything that was so good and perfect just vanished like it was never there to begin with. I don’t even know how to process that. All I know is that the tears are coming hard and fast and my body is making sounds I didn’t know that it was capable of making.
I end up lying on the couch curled into one of the pillows, sobbing until every bit of grief and disappointment and shock works its way through my system. This can’t be happening. It can’t. Things can’t change this quickly.