I’d just pulled on the jeans and picked one of the fine V-neck T-shirts from its hanger when the buzzer to the penthouse sounded. Walking out of my closet still holding the shirt, I glanced around the bedroom for my smartphone so I could look on the app to see who it was, but I didn’t see it. The buzzer sounded again, and I moved quickly in that direction. My heart rate increased in anticipation, hoping it was Addison. I rarely had visitors on Saturday morning, so surely it was her. A smile spread across my face as I flung open the door without pausing, but it was quickly lost when I saw who was standing there.
“Well, hello, stranger,” Gloria purred, looking over my bare torso, down my body to my bare feet, hesitating for a pointed second or two at my crotch.
I scowled at her, and quickly pulled the white shirt I was still holding over my head and shoved my arms through the sleeves. I turned and moved toward the kitchen, hoping she’d say what she needed to say and leave quickly. “What are you doing here?”
She huffed in indignation and followed me, her stiletto heels clicking on the hardwood behind me. “You used to like me to be here, remember?” Gloria moved in close as I pulled the orange juice from the refrigerator, opened it, and took a long swig.
“Not really,” I answered rudely, replacing the juice and turning to lean against the counter. Gloria’s face fell before she quickly hid her disappointment. If I was honest, I was being a dick, but damn it, she shouldn’t show up without calling first. “What is it? Is this about Addison’s manuscript?”
Gloria’s brow dropped, and she waved a careless hand at me. “No, I’m trying to read it, but I’m not getting into it at all,” she dismissed.
I crossed my arms over my chest as my eyes narrowed. “What? How can that be?”
She shrugged casually and moved away from me to walk toward the window. She stood looking out. “I guess I’m too worried about your deadline. It’s coming up fast, Jax.”
“As you keep reminding me. I told you to move it back.” My mood was getting worse which was only compounded by what came next.
Gloria laughed haughtily, turning so her eyes locked with mine. “You’re so funny, Jax. Even you can’t push this publisher around.”
“That’s not my objective, Gloria. Every writer gets block from time to time.” I felt foolish trying to justify it. I’d made my publisher and my agent lots of money over the past few years and I thought I deserved a little latitude.
Gloria’s face sobered. “But you don’t, Jax. But if you want, I can hire a ghost writer. The important thing is to get some pages submitted.”
“I don’t want someone else writing my books. My readers would know.”
“I can get someone who has a similar style. It’s done all the time.”
“I said, no.”
“Well, you have no choice but to get it done, then.” She had strolled back into the kitchen from the window in the great room and moved closer. She ran a teasing finger down my arm, and I stiffened away from her. It did not go unnoticed.
“Ask them to publish Addison’s manuscript in my slot. It’s a win win.”
“Is it?” she asked drolly. “You expect me to march into Marcia Goldstone’s office and tell her to replace a sure bestseller with a little nobody’s book?” Her eyes flashed. “Yeah, right.”
“Yes. It’s an excellent book,” I answered; nonplussed.
Gloria rolled her eyes and opened the refrigerator door, peering inside as if she owned the place. “Do you have anything to drink? Other than juice, I mean?” Her casual familiarity wouldn’t have bothered me a few months ago, but now, I found it annoying. “Do you have any white wine?”
“No,” I stated, even though I had a dozen different offerings, but the white wine selection was in the bar refrigerator and it surprised me that she didn’t remember that. I moved in front of her and pushed the fridge closed.
Gloria pursed her lips, and one finely tweezed brow arched. How did I think she was so beautiful? She was skinny and cold, more of an ice queen. How did I ever find her attractive? I felt perplexed and shook my head slightly. “What happened to you, Gloria? You used to have such a passion for the story? Addison’s book will hook you if you’d read it.”
She huffed and picked up the small purse she’d placed on the smooth white and black marbled granite of the countertop and shoved it under her arm. She was as casually dressed as I’d ever seen her, but still, she had on wool trousers, a bright print blouse and a short white wool tailored coat. That, and her standard four, or five, inch heels.
“I guess the millions of indie authors flooding the market and publishers doing anything and everything to make a buck these days makes me a bit more cynical, Jax. They find it easier to scoop up the bestselling indies, and publish something that’s already been proven, then it is to find new talent by wading through stacks of submissions. Everyone likes a sure thing, don’t they?” Her red lipped mouth curved up on one side in a provocative smile.
“Ugh,” I lamented, shaking my head again. “It’s your job to wade through the stack for them, Gloria.”
“Yes, but they don’t give what I push at them a second look anymore. Not when they’ve got interns researching current sales trends online. If they don’t care about the writing, why should I? It doesn’t get me anything but shown the door.”
I had to admit she was probably telling the truth. The passionless attitude, which had colored the industry of late, was also probably the reason for my lack of enthusiasm for my own writing. Writing used to fill me with joy. Hearing my agent’s enthusiasm was infectious. Now, I just felt like a fucking cog in a machine that made money for a bunch of faceless people who didn’t give a shit about the craft anymore. “You can show yourself out, Gloria. I have plans and I’m late.” I started to leave the room, anxious to reconcile with Addison, leaving Gloria stunned behind me. I was rewarded with a sarcastic, sneering retort.
“Get your book done, and then maybe I can concentrate on your little girlfriend’s.”
“She isn’t my girlfriend, Gloria,” I protested over my shoulder.
“Fine,” she acquiesced. “Flavor of the month, then?”
I felt heat flush the skin of my face as my anger increased. I stopped walking but only for a beat, then continued up the stairs. “Whatever Addison is, or isn’t, is none of your business. Other than she’s a writer and one of your clients. Remember that.”
17
~Addy
I was still fuming when I slammed into my apartment. “Guh!” I grunted as I fell down onto my bed, dropping my bag on the floor next to it. As mad as I was, I was a basket of mixed emotions. I cared about Jax and the last thing I wanted was for something like this to come between us. He was more important than the book and surely undoubtedly more important than helping Luke with his.
The entire cab ride home, I was replaying the scene with Jax in my mind over and over.
Michelle emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered, and ready for the day.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” she asked. Her perkiness made me feel worse. Her blonde hair and makeup were perfect, and she was dressed in black leggings and an oversized cream sweater. I felt like an ugly slug beside her. I was sure my face was all pinched and my eyes puffy from crying. I still wore my sunglasses and sat up on the little bed, unwilling to take them off. She sat down on the edge of the bed beside me and put a hand on my back. “Did you have a fight with Dr. Michaels?”