Page 6 of The Editor’s Choice

“Okay, I shut off the water, so that fixes the main issue here,” he says, doing his best to maintain his professionalism. “I don’t have the parts to actually fix the shower, but I’ll pick those up from the hardware store in the morning and can have you up and running again by tomorrow afternoon.” He faces me now, leaning on one arm against the door frame.

Swallowing down all my shame, I nod my head, not able to make eye contact or actually utter a single word to this Greek god of a man. Who just saw my fucking dildo laying on my bed, right after I nearly flashed him, all while he’s here to fix my already embarrassing situation. Talk about awkward.

“Hey, don’t worry about that. Any of it honestly. You’d be amazed at what I see in some of these apartments,” he laughs, trying to brush off the whole thing as entirely normal. “I’ll have you all fixed up in no time and we can pretend none of this ever happened in the first place. Although, I got a good laugh from imagining the shower incident, if I’m being entirely honest,” he finishes with the most genuine smile I’ve ever witnessed.

“I’m so sorry. This whole thing is so embarrassing. I’ve always been a klutz but this is fucked, even for me,” I apologize quickly. “I’m also sorry for waking you up to deal with this.”

“No worries,” he says in his lighthearted manner. “It’s what I’m here for, after all.”

When I can force myself to look back up from the floor, there’s a heat in his eyes I hadn’t noticed before. Or maybe I’m just imagining it, because as quick as I see it, it’s gone and replaced with something more professional and closed off. Not quite so vulnerable.

“Thank you again,” I manage, forcing the words out of my mouth, turning back toward the living room.

“What did you say your name was? You look familiar,” he questions, following me.

“I didn’t. But my name is Jade. Jade Adams.” I turn to find him with an odd expression on his face, almost as if he’s surprised.

“Oh, shit! Really?” He runs his hand down his face as the smile creeps back onto his lips. “I’ll be damned.”

Arching my eyebrow, I wait for a little more information, not sure what any of this has to do with anything.

Holding his hand out, he continues. “I’m Roman Grato. You sent me an email with your manuscript a few days ago. I reached out to set up a time to meet in person but I hadn’t heard back from you.”

All the breath rushes from my lungs as I put a hand out to steady myself. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Chapter Four

Jade

After rushing Roman out the door, I collapse onto my bed, trying to soothe the burning in my lungs and keep my dinner down. What the actual fuck. I’m literally going to die from embarrassment. I feel the tears stinging the backs of my eyes and my throat starts to burn as I bring my hands up to my head, wrapping my fingers in my hair. You’ve got to be kidding me.

I finally get the balls to send my manuscript off to an editor and that editor just happens to me the maintenance guy for my new apartment?! I also just so happen to break the faucet in some freak accident and he shows up here in the middle of the night to save me, and ends up seeing my sex toys sprawled out across the bed?! This can’t be my real life. I pinch myself on the arm lightly, just to double check that I’m not currently having a nightmare. Unfortunately, it confirms that I’m awake and this is very much so my real life.

Fuck.

Opening my laptop, I pull up my emails and find his response to the manuscript. I hadn’t even seen it yet since everything went insane right after I sent it the other day.

Roman,

Holy fuck. I am so incredibly sorry for everything that happened this evening. I hadn’t gotten a chance to read your email yet. My life kind of fell apart right after I got the guts to send you the manuscript.

Anyway, I’m sure that meeting is off the table now. Plus, I’m absolutely mortified at what happened here. So, I just wanted to apologize to you once again.

Thank you for taking the time to read the manuscript, though. I really do appreciate that.

-Jade

I hit send before my heart has the chance to explode. On an exasperated sigh, I shut the laptop and let the first tears spill over. Once that happens, there’s no chance of redemption. The wave has finally landed and I collapse in on myself, curling into a tight ball on the bed, sobbing until there’s nothing left for me to give.

***

27 texts.

18 missed calls.

12 new voicemails.

As I rub the sleep from my eyes with the backs of my hands, my mind struggles to focus on the screen. Nobody even has this number.