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After I press send, I log off and sit back in my chair, shaking my head. Tonight was too much, and though I know I should feel guilty, all I can focus on is the unbridled excitement stirring in the pit of my stomach. The giddiness of doing something so wrong.
; I push myself out of my chair and head to the kitchen for another glass of wine to help clear my mind and take the edge off. It hits the spot, and soon I’m able to breathe again. With distance between us, I’m able to think clearer, and I smile.
I’m playing with fire, but I like it.
4
Liam
It’s getting harder and harder to focus on writing. Max’s voice has gotten lost in the background because all I want to do is focus on Grace. She’s one of my favorite characters I’ve written to date, so complex but simple at the same time. I can clearly see her wants and needs, and unlike Max, her voice comes so naturally to me. Rather than sitting in bed and trying to force myself to come up with words I know I’ll more than likely have to edit out once I finish the manuscript, I put away the laptop and go for a walk.
The morning is chilly, and I can tell that it’s going to rain today. The sun is hidden behind an endless wall of clouds, making the entire morning seem dour. But it’s not. At least, not for me. Last night was something new, something I never thought I’d get into with another person. It seems that’s just how Harlow is. I’ve never had someone ride my ass about my book like she did, and I’ve never had someone play along with one of my games as easily as she did.
It was apparent I wasn’t talking about Max last night. She’s smart enough to know that I meant me. What she’d let me do to her. What I’d want her to do to me. And despite it being just a little annoying to see her pull away when we were getting so close to something interesting, I can’t be mad at her.
It makes sense. This is her first big job since being hired on. From what I’ve gotten to see of her, she’s a hard worker, and I don’t have any plans to ruin something so vital to her. Not only that, but I can tell by the effort she put into my editorial letter that she cares about Dirty Little Secrets. More than anyone else ever did, it seems.
When I first started writing Secrets, my agent at the time wasn’t sure it was something she wanted to represent. I told her all about it, how messy it was because it was based on situations I’d experienced in real life, and she seemed less than enthused about it. For a long time, I never found out why she felt that way, but two months after starting the manuscript, she ended our contract and pulled away.
I had no clue what to do. We’d worked together for years on my previous bestselling series. It wasn’t until last year that I discovered an interview where she discussed her past clients and how she was over the salacious stories. She couldn’t find anything redeeming in explicit sex scenes. In her words, stories like that had little to no value.
I never spoke about it but hearing that hurt me. I’d considered Tiffany to be one of my best friends and knowing that she’d only ever represented me for a cash grab was a mixture of feelings I wasn’t ready for. Anger because of how she’d led me to believe she had the same passion in these stories that I did. Sadness that I’d trusted her so implicitly and she trashed me during an interview. For a long time, I refused to work with anyone else. I threw all of my feelings into Dirty Little Secrets, taking out my anger and frustration with phony people in that book.
My current agent, Chad, said he felt that anger brewing in the back of the novel the moment he read it. The kind of “fuck the world” energy that he hadn’t expected but had completely fallen in love with. Sometimes I wonder if he’s just blowing smoke up my ass the same way Tiffany was, but I don’t want to think about that. Chad’s a good guy.
But Harlow? I can tell she’s passionate, and that only makes me that much more interested in her. I know it’s such a silly thing to get excited over, but the letter that had once annoyed me has proven to do the exact opposite now. The serious level of attention to detail that she possesses had turned me on more than any naked woman on my phone ever could. Unless that naked woman was Harlow Knight, of course.
When I make it back to my cabin after the walk, I spend the day cleaning and clearing my head. I chase this random bout of energy until the entire place is spotless, and then I prepare brunch and sit down with a cup of coffee to write. I’ve just gotten to the part of the sequel where Max and Grace break up. It’s necessary, but it still feels a little sad to do. I’ve invested emotions into these two and writing them so unhappy together has been killing my mood.
But it’s necessary. Max needs to grow by the end of the book, sacrificing something to prove just how much he cares about Grace. So, I take a long drink from my mug and get down to business.
After spending the day working, I close my laptop and lie in bed, ready to relax. Maybe listen to a little music and read. But then I remember the number Harlow gave me, and a smile tugs at my lips. I reach for my phone on the nightstand and scroll through my contacts until I see her name. She answers on the fourth ring.
“Hello?” Her voice is unreal. Sweet and light.
“Harlow?” My voice is calm and deep, unlike hers.
“Yes, who’s calling?”
“I’m a little offended you don’t know who this is,” I taunt.
There’s a pause, but I hear the smile in her voice when she replies, “I’m a little offended it took you this long to call, Liam. Busy day? Or were you just too nervous?”
“After the mountain of edits you gave me, I have little time to worry about what I’m going to eat for dinner, let along make nighttime phone calls. I’m surprised you answered at this hour. I know you’re a night owl and all, but it’s almost four a.m. there. Can’t sleep?”
“Not particularly,” she says. “I’ve been dealing with other clients all day. Insomnia’s been kicking my ass. How’s the editing going by the way? I’ve gone over everything you sent in as of late. It’s looking good. Better.”
“I suppose I have you to thank for that. You’re the one that gave me all those pointers. But I’m still not removing the affair aspect.”
“I could wring your neck, Liam.”
“I might like that.” I chuckle. “I’m not removing it, but I will work on how it makes the two of them feel. Something as taboo as that needs to have some kind of emotional weight otherwise it feels inconsequential.”
She sighs. “I’m glad you’re finally starting to see it my way. All it took was a little convincing.”
“You are pretty damn persuasive, Harlow. It’s a dangerous quality to have.”
