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Her lips purse and she drops her gaze, nodding. “I’m sorry. I know you’re stressed.”
Overcome with guilt for snapping at her, I step forward and hug her. Instantly I’m flooded with senses. The softness of her hair on my cheek. The smell of her citrus lotion. For a moment, I’m afraid I’ve said too much, but she hugs me, and suddenly everything is okay.
“W
hen I’m ready,” I say, pulling back to look at her. “I’ll let you know before anyone else.”
“Promise?”
“I swear.” I smile.
As much as I love spending time with my family, they all have a special ability to keep me planted where I am and talking until it’s far too late. Tonight is no different. Despite the pile of work sitting at home, I’m unable to force myself to leave until nearly eleven. All of the children have fallen asleep, and Britney, her husband, and Tyler all decide to spend the night. I wish I could, but I can’t.
I finish off my glass of lemonade and take it to the sink to wash. Tyler sidles up beside me, poking my sides. “C’mon, Harlow. Stay the night. Mom found our old Nintendo 64 upstairs, and I want to kick your ass in some Mario Kart.”
The idea sounds fun, but I can’t justify skipping a night of work to throw bananas and eat mushrooms for speed boosts. “I would if I could, but I have lots of work…”
Tyler’s shoulders fall just a bit. “One day you’re gonna need to take a break. You know that, right?”
“I know.” I sigh. “I just need to make sure everything is ready. Liam Daniels is a big deal, and I need to make sure I don’t let my boss down. She’s counting on me to make this first big book go smoothly.”
“I don’t tell you this enough, but you inspire me.”
I blink in surprise. Out of everyone, I consider Tyler to be the most successful in our family. A string of restaurants under his belt and a catering company. For him to say that I inspire him is mind-blowing. “Wow, Ty. I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just know that despite how annoying I find you, I still think you’re the hardest worker I know. You don’t let anyone or anything get in the way of what you want to do. And that inspires me.”
I give him the tightest hug I’ve given anyone in a long time. He laughs and returns the gesture, patting my back. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
I collect my bag and phone then together we walk outside. Being out here reminds me of all the times my sister and I would sneak out and hang out with her friends on weeknights. Britney was rebellious when she was younger, always pushing Mom and Dad’s buttons to see how far she could get them before they exploded. Usually, it worked out in her favor, but there were times when she went too far, causing a huge explosion of emotions that she was never truly prepared for.
When she met her husband Andrew, that rebellious side simmered down. They were high school sweethearts, the Hollywood couple everyone wanted to be. The difference was, their love didn’t dissipate when they graduated. In fact, it only grew more, and before either of them could put their degrees to use, they were expecting and moving into their first home. Part of me was jealous when I heard the news. Jealous of the way Mom and everyone else seemed to breathe with relief. Tyler hadn’t given Mom grandkids by that point, and many wondered if she’d ever have grandchildren to call her own. I was also jealous of how easy it seemed for Britney. She got the husband and the baby and the starter house like it came effortlessly.
Tyler and me? We worked day in and day out, sacrificing romance and social interaction for our careers. Though I’ve mostly gotten over that jealousy, I think it still brews inside me, buried underneath everything. There’s a part of me that wants the life Britney and Andrew have built together.
“Tell Brit and the kids that I love them, and I’m sorry I couldn’t stay,” I tell him, making sure he knows I mean it. I don’t get to see them often, and I want them to know that I still love them.
“I will, I will,” he says. “Drive safe.”
“I’ll see you later.” I climb into my car and back out of the driveway, waving to Tyler before I turn the corner.
On the ride home, my mind wanders. I take in what Tyler said. Maybe he’s right. A break is much needed. I’ve spent eight years putting my heart and soul into editing, but even the greats needed a break. After this book with Liam, I could possibly take a vacation for a week. Soak up some sun, talk to a few locals at whatever island getaway I’m staying at. Something to treat myself to after so much dedication to Hart Publishing.
When I get home, I take a long hot shower, allowing it to ease the tension in my muscles. Spending time around Mom always causes me to tense up. She’s a lot, but I love her more than anything in the world—even if she does get on my nerves sometimes. I drag my fingers through my blonde hair, scrubbing out the cookout smoke smell and chlorine from the pool. By the time I’m finished, I smell like lavender and Shea butter, a scent that never fails to soothe my spirits.
With my hair tied back, I make my way to my desk in the corner of the living room. As expected, there’s an email from Shelby. I shoot a quick response to her, then get started on a few minor edits I have to do with one of our authors that’s just on the brink of publishing her first sexy werewolf story. There isn’t much left to do, but I still give the final chapters a read, making sure that none of the other editors have missed anything. Fortunately, our team is exceptional, making my job a little easier.
Just as I begin to log out, a new email pops up in my inbox from none other than Liam Daniels. Liam’s name is practically synonymous with sexy, steamy fun. When he was just twenty-three, he came onto the scene and took the literary world by storm. He began with stories he’d heard from his frat brothers, inspired by the insanity of their love lives, but as he continued writing, more women were drawn to him. His latest book, Dirty Little Secrets, is all anyone at Midnight can talk about. Based on his own scandalous love affair during his twenties with a woman he met online, DLS is already expected to be an International Bestseller. It’s the kind of running start Midnight Press needs, and there’s no doubt in my mind that if I fumble something this huge, Shelby’s going to see how big of a mistake she made assigning me as the senior editor.
No pressure at all.
Not only was the work stressful, but something about Liam was magnetically distracting. At first, I thought it was just the excitement of getting to work with someone as famous as him, but the more we talked, the more I found myself wanting to know all about him. DLS is his most personal work from what I heard, and after reading his manuscript, I was painfully hooked on every last word.
I open his email and take in the wall of words he’s sent me. This isn’t surprising, because as polite as he is, he’s opinionated. He rarely agrees with me on changes and suggestions when I first make them, and he never shies away from giving his opinion on what I think works best for his book. If it were anyone else, an editor might think he’s presumptuous, but I consider it part of his charm. He’s passionate, just shy of being a dick about things. He knows how to toe that line, asserting himself without dominating the conversation.
Knowing that this is going to be a lot to wade through, I push pause on my work and step into the kitchen. I need food and more wine. I throw together a sandwich then pour myself a glass of Malbec. As I start for the computer, I freeze. I might need more than just one drink. To be safe, I take the whole bottle with me.
I crack my neck and take a seat, preparing to read through this mountainous email.
