Page 538 of Manhattan Bossholes

I smiled as I attached the start documents to an email. I liked this fictional badass heroine already.

“As I speak her name, the weight of it upon my tongue tastes bitter. For all of the ways I’ve failed her, and due to my desire to disobey my forefathers. I have to find the right words to apologize to the most beguiling woman I’ve ever encountered. To win back the incomparable Miss Natalie Reynolds.”

I froze. What?

Maybe I was still asleep. How was this real? Because the narrator reading the book was the same one who’d read all of Erin Woodley’s books. And the writing style was undoubtedly Erin’s. Was it just an insane coincidence? But Natalie wasn’t a period-appropriate name for a book about a nineteenth century rogue!

“The truth was,” the narrator continued, “I was bewitched by her. But I hurt her terribly, and have been cast out because of it. My dearest Natalie has ignored my every attempt to reach her. Now, I need to be extraordinarily clever to show her I’ve learned the error of my ways. Because I would do nearly anything just to make her mine again.”

My eyes inexplicably filled with tears. Romance novels used to make me feel hopeful. I believed that true love was possible, but now I knew better.

“Natalie…”

The voice behind me made me jump, and I spun around in my chair to find James staring at me. I should’ve been used to him sneaking up on me by now, but once again he’d managed to scare the hell out of me. I was too confused to be angry.

“What are you doing here?” I sniffled and hoped that he couldn’t see my watery eyes from across the room. “You’re not supposed to come back for months. Are you unhappy with my work or something? Is that why you’re here? Because I’ll have you know that since I’ve been in charge of creative⁠—”

He frowned at me. “Natalie, no.” He sounded injured. “Were you not listening?” He pointed up towards the speakers.

I smacked my desk in frustration. “Is this about the sound system again? What the hell, James?”

He walked closer to me, and I ignored my body’s visceral reaction to being near him. At first, I thought he looked better than ever, like not seeing him in real life for so long had intensified all of the things I loved about his body. He seemed more muscular, as if he’d been spending all of his free time working out. But as he drew closer, I studied his face and realized that he was pale, with shadows beneath his eyes.

“Natalie, look,” he said, holding his phone out to me as he walked to my desk.

I refused to glance at his face, focusing my attention on his phone.

“Look closely at the cover of this book.”

I snatched it out of his hands and saw a typical-looking clinch-cover of a Regency romance. The woman was in a swirling purple gown with her head tipped back at an almost impossible angle and her eyes closed while the rake bent over her to plant a kiss on the side of her neck. Erin Woodley’s name in the typical scrolling font dominated the top quarter of the cover, as usual.

“Okay? And?”

James sighed with obvious frustration. “Look at the models, for God’s sake.”

I held his phone closer to my eyes, then gasped. “That’s me!” My mouth dropped open as I studied the rake. “And you!”

He nodded.

“Wait…does that mean my name… That wasn’t a coincidence? James, what the hell did you do?”

His lips turned up in the world’s smallest grin. “I called in a favor. The CEO of the media company that owns her publishing house is a friend of mine from the Glenhaven Club, and he owed me a favor. He introduced me to Ms. Woodley, and I asked her to help me out, in exchange for a donation to her favorite charity, since you’re such a fan of hers. Plus, you’re the reason I was introduced to her work. She’s very good. I’ve been reading all of her old books during my sabbatical.”

I could barely form a sentence. I realized that I probably looked like an idiot standing there with my mouth hanging open.

“She wrote the first chapter of The Rogue’s Rebuttal,” James continued. He paused to stare at me. “She said the happily ever after is up to us.”

How was it possible that the mighty James Branson looked like a little boy in this moment?

“I don’t know what to say,” I finally managed.

James started to reach for me but stopped himself. “Say we can talk things through. That you’re open to hearing me out. I have a lot to tell you, Natalie.”

My heart swelled at the naked emotion in his voice. I wanted to believe what he’d said through the audiobook. It was a beautiful gesture.

But then I realized that that was all the thing was. A gesture. He’d used his money and connections very effectively to manufacture a situation that would appeal to me, but that just meant that I was an emotional mess while he was cool as a cucumber. It might work for some of the women he dated, but I wanted something real, not just a fancy gift with an astronomical price tag. And speaking of the women he dated, he’d literally just ended things with Heidi. Did he really think I’d welcome him back while his sheets probably still smelled like her perfume?

If I listened to what James had to say I had no doubt I’d fall for it. The man was smart, and he knew me very well, knew how to get the response he wanted out of me. It didn’t help that I was so hungry to touch him that I had to keep backing away from him, to keep my hand from accidentally connecting with him and short-circuiting my logic.