I looked down at myself and realized the neckline plunged below my breasts.
“Men,” I muttered.
“It’s not only that. It’s all of it. You’re gorgeous.”
“It’s your launch party, not mine. I don’t want to outshine you,” I teased.
He lifted his chin. “As if you could.”
Maybe he was joking, but knowing Vandal, probably not.
I tried on a few others, but none of them were quite as striking as the blue. He bought it for me without blinking at the price, and it made me wonder what his definition of being broke was, considering. The man never skimped on groceries, never seemed worried about bills, and didn’t bat an eye about buying me a fancy dress I definitely didn’t need.
Oh, and sexy red shoes.
And a bag.
On our way home he was alternately humming to the music, or mouthing the words, and I watched him with amusement which only goaded him into making more of a show of it.
“You’re really bringing me to your launch party in New York?”
“Um, yeah. This would be too weird of a mindfuck even for me.”
“Is Zero coming with us?”
“I would assume so. He always does, if there is one, same as I go to his. They’re ridiculous things, and completely unnecessary at this point, but when your publisher is footing the bill for a party, it would be rude not to show, you know?”
“Do you think I’m good enough to get picked up by a publisher?”
“In your situation, it’s not a matter of whether you’re good enough. You’re writing something too edgy for traditional publishing. You’ll probably have to self-publish the book you’re working on, but there’s nothing wrong with that.” He grinned. “From the research I’ve done, there’s a pretty big niche market.”
He’d explained part of this before, but with his launch party looming it was making me wonder exactly what I was looking for from my writing.
“Do you think I’m good enough to get a decent book deal if that’s what I set my mind to?”
“If you didn’t have talent, I wouldn’t waste my time browbeating you to watch out for your pet words. I’d be patting you on the head and telling you to watch Netflix. Part of writing is talent, but a lot of it is hard work. You have talent, and you’re willing to work hard, so you’re not a waste of my time.”
“You’re not just being nice?”
He raised a brow. “Have you ever known me to ‘just be nice?’”
“Well...no. But maybe you’re being kind so I keep putting out.”
“You’ve made it clear that I don’t have to woo you to get what I want. We seem to want the same things. Now stop being such a whiny, needy little writer. If you don’t believe in yourself, no one is going to believe in you.”
“But you’re a whiny, needy little writer.”
“Yes, and it’s annoying, isn’t it? There’s only room for one of me in my life, so you’re going to have to find enough belief in your own skills to get you through the day. Maybe you can convince Zero to give you the nice pats on the head. He has enough obnoxious self-confidence in his work to share, I think. He’s never even sworn off writing forever after reading a bad review—not even once. The man is a monster.”
We both laughed.
“You know what, kid? You can be fun to hang out with when you aren’t crawling around begging for orgasms.”
I blinked at him. “If you don’t like me doing that, maybe you shouldn’t be contributing to the problem. I’d be less distracting if the two of you weren’t constantly torturing me.”
“It’s your fault for being fun to torture.”
“I thought you said it was annoying to hear me whine.”
“Well...maybe I lied.”
It wasn’t a profession of undying love, but it was something.
Chapter 22
The fancy little restaurant Vandal’s publisher had taken over for his release party was probably the most pretentious place I’d ever been to. There was a lot of white swagged fabric, and canapés, and trays of champagne. Vandal’s editor treated him like an old friend, and every second person who shook his hand gave him a fond backslap to go with it.
“They’ve outdone themselves this time,” Zero murmured when there was a lull in people who wanted to be introduced to me, as Vandal’s supposed girlfriend.
“Release parties aren’t always like this?”
“They’re not usually this over the top. I think they were worried he was finished with writing after what his sister did.”
“If that’s the case, they don’t know him very well.”
“Yeah, it would probably be easier for him to quit breathing.”
“Zero Thompson,” a woman said, sounding delighted as she closed the few feet of space between us.
“Anna,” he replied, sounding equally pleased.
She was all class, in a cream-colored suit and killer heels.
He shook her hand and accepted a kiss on the cheek before letting her go. “So good to see you. This is my friend Sadie Setford.”
“Your friend or Vandal’s?” she asked, laughing lightly as though she was terribly clever. “Reports are varied.”
“Sadie is an up-and-coming writer. She’s joined our little writers’ commune up in Canada.”
“A commune? That sounds dreadful.” She smiled as if she was joking, but her tone hinted at distaste. “Spend a lot of time growing pot and making your own clothes?”
“Not yet, but the time may come,” Zero replied easily, seeming unbothered by her judgmental words.
“I wasn’t sure if Van had another book in him, but he managed it somehow.” Her catlike gaze shifted to me. “Maybe the new girlfriend has been inspirational.”
“Considering what Vandal writes, I hope not,” I said, smiling back at her with too many teeth. Really? I always thought this shit ended in high school, but this woman was obviously out to start something with me. She was jealous, and it had something to do with me, but it was hard to tell if the rest was about Vandal or Zero.
She half laughed, then melted back into the crowd after giving Zero a long, lingering look, which he returned with a glint of amusement in his silvery eyes.
“What was that about?” I whispered.
“I’m not sure, exactly.”
“I think she’s jealous. Maybe she’ll be your next conquest?”
“Why would we want her when we have you?” He ran his finger over the necklace he’d bought me to go with my dress, and I flushed. It wasn’t a collar—at least he hadn’t said it was one—but he kept acting like it meant something to him.
“You have me, do you?”
He leaned against the pillar we were standing close to. “I hope you’re not planning on disappearing on us as soon as the contract is up.”
“Not long now, I guess.” I grimaced. “I’m not sure what I’m doing yet. I guess I should start apartment hunting, but I’m not sure I’m staying in Redwood.”
“You’re really thinking of leaving town?” he asked, frowning.