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“So, she reached out to me last night with this idea for a book.”
I frown. “Why you? Did you tell her you were a writer and a potter?”
“No, but I guess Drew told her about you and him and…” she points at the beat-up part of her face. “Me.”
“He what?”
“It’s okay, I’m not mad. I trust her. And anyway, she was saying our story would make a good book.”
“Our story?”
“Yeah, like how we wound up in the modern world being forced into a marriage to save our family’s reputation. Supposedly that doesn’t happen all that much in America. Crazy, right?” She lets out a fake laugh.
I narrow my eyes at her. “So you’re suggesting we write some kind of Upper East Side tell-all?”
“It would be ghostwritten, but yeah.”
“I don’t know,” I say, my entire upbringing recoiling at the thought.
“It’s money, Ollie.”
“How much money?” I ask.
“She said it would depend. If it’s just my story, it would be less, but if it’s both of us, she said maybe seven figures.”
This is where my having no concept of money whatsoever is a burden, not a blessing. “That’s a pretty big range,” I say, because I do know at least that much.
“Are you interested, though?” Elodie asks, and I can tell by the unabashed hope on her face that she needs me to say yes.
“I’m not saying I’ll do it, and I need way more details than ‘seven figures,’ but sure. Yeah. I’m interested in what she thinks she has to offer.” I’m not saying she owes me—honestly, I should probably be the one making reparations to her for what I took, but still—to sell out my family? I’m not sure what the price tag for that should be. Maybe Drew will know.
The door to the apartment opens, and a thrill skates through me. I turn to see the man himself approaching, heading straight for me. He grabs me by the front of the t-shirt, pulls me toward him, and plants a kiss on my waiting mouth.
Seeing Elodie, he stops with a quick smooch, and lets my shirt go. “You talked to Jericho?” he asks her.
Elodie gives him an excited nod.
He looks at me. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know.” I sigh heavily. “Can we put this whole book deal thing on pause so I can have some coffee, food, and maybe some dick first?
“Oh my god. I cannot live with you two.”
Drew, however, gives my ass a squeeze. “Your coffee’s ready.”
So it is. I grab it, take Drew by the hand, and lead him up the stairs, telling Elodie that bagels are coming, and we’ll talk about the Jericho thing in a little while. I need to talk to Drew first. I feel in no way capable of making a decision like this on my own.
“How was your night with Matthew?” I ask him first when we reach my bedroom.
He tosses his jacket on the bench at the foot of the bed while I sit on the mattress. “Matthew’s nice. Might wanna watch him around your fiancée, though.”
I arch a brow as I sip my coffee. “Why?”
“She came down when Jericho was trying to get in touch with her, and they had kind of a thing.”
“Kind of a thing?”
He shrugs. “Just saying. I liked him. Talking to him helped put a few things into perspective for me.”
