Page 20 of Don’t Forget Me

“Thank you. I didn’t catch your name?” I asked.

“Allyson.”

“Nice to meet you, Allyson.”

“I have a copy of So Long, Scotland at my desk; would it be too much to ask for a signature and a picture?” she asked.

I wasn’t used to the fact that people enjoyed the idea of me. My characters, my story, my words. Nonetheless, I nodded with pleasure knowing that I could bring a smile to the girl before me. Allyson skipped to her desk and reached over, rushed back to me, extending it toward me with a black Sharpie in her other hand. I opened the first page of the novel, sprawling my author’s signature over the front. And included a sweet message for her.

“This is amazing! I knew this job would have its perks.”

I laughed along with her. “It’s always the best when you have a job with perks. Enjoy it.”

“Sorry to keep you.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll see you later.” I motioned before gulping, hoping to stop the trembling in my fingers. It’s like my body knew that I was about to see him again.

“See you, miss.”

I stepped onto the glass elevator and pressed the number thirteen. I was able to see every hallway in the building. The workers, assistants, and producers who Ezra and Zack employed. It took everything in me not to look down and see how far I had been from the ground. I thought I’d have an anxiety attack if I did. I much preferred to protect my peace than feed into my curiosity.

When the doors opened, I pushed aside all of my feelings of dread as I neared the hallway to my chamber of doom. However, I kept my chin held high. I would not falter. I could do this. I would do this.

He sat by the desk with millions of papers before him. One hand supported his temple as the other held onto a stylus pen. I watched him for some moments. A golden light had been cast over his head, giving him a clear view of the paperwork he’d been signing.

How I wished to be the subject of his dedication in the same manner he dedicated himself to his profession. I stopped myself there. I was engaged; this was wrong. I cleared my throat, his gaze pierced me immediately.

He stood tall. I watched as his eyes scanned my attire, he took a sharp breath, and suddenly I felt naked under his stare.

“Hi,” I said, remaining at the threshold.

“Hey.”

“Where’s your friend?” I asked.

Windows encompassed the entirety of the conference room. A long white benchtop had been situated at the center. He had pens scattered on the desk and a MacBook not too far from him.

“He couldn’t make it,” he explained.

“I thought Camille would be here.”

“She was called to take care of another project.”

“Will it just be the two of us, then?” I questioned.

“Most likely. Come in, make yourself comfortable.”

For my readers, I reminded myself. As we stood in the silent room, I regretted verbally attacking him in the elevator a few days ago. He was here, open-hearted, and ready to help me, and I was nothing but rude. Just like old times.

No.

Our Blackthorn House Academy times were over. Definitely over. He ruined it all. I couldn’t forget that.

I nodded, setting my bag on the chair beside my own. “What will we be going over today?”

“Whatever you want. This is your movie.”

I raised my brows in amusement. In truth, it was his movie the moment he went over the contract with Greer. I was just the person who inspired the script, nothing more.