Page 68 of Definitely Not Him


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Chloe

Portland, Oregon

Annual Book Fair

7 weeks, 3 days pregnant

Sometimes it was hard to believe that the same mind that crafted my favorite stories of all time could belong to the same person hyperventilating and crying in a bathroom. Or, that the person behind the most horrifying romantic suspense trilogy was more terrified of being in the real world.

“Miss Banks?” I knocked on a stall door. “Miss Banks, this event is really important for your fans. You can’t stay here through the entire signing.”

“My fans hate me.” She cried. “They don’t like me at all.”

“They wouldn’t have bought tickets to meet you if that were the case.” I glanced at my watch. “I promise.”

“They bought tickets to meet the ex-prince. They’re hoping he’ll show up. I’ve seen some of their posters.”

“He already emailed everyone saying he wouldn’t.” I resisted the urge to leave her here alone for the third hour in a row. “Your session was sold out long before he was announced. Would you like some water?”

“No, I’d like some drugs.”

“Tylenol?” I unzipped my purse. “Xanax?”

“No, like cocaine, Chloe,” she said deadpan. “Miss Swift always brings that to me and it helps.”

I blinked. “I’ll go get her for you.”

When I stepped out of the restroom, I immediately spotted Hazel. She was posing next to a cardboard cutout of her and Tyler in front of our building.

“Don’t we look good together?” She held up her cell phone, snapping a selfie. “Have you ever noticed the way Mr. Carrington stares at me in the office? The way he seems completely dumbfounded after every word I say?”

“I’ve looked at you in that exact same way for years.”

“Oh my god, I never even noticed.” She placed one hand on her chest and another on my shoulder. “I am so sorry, Chloe. I’m not into women at all. I mean, you’re gorgeous as ever, and you’re glowing a lot more lately, but I prefer the way a man’s cock fits and feels inside me; I don’t think I could ever get used to a woman munching on my mound or scissoring my nub, if you know what I mean.”

“Our top romance author is in the bathroom and she wants cocaine.” I refused to entertain the rest of that conversation. “She says that’s your department.”

“Be there in thirty seconds.” She motioned for me to stand in front of the cardboard. “Stand in front of my face, so it looks like you’re with Tyler.”

“That’s okay. I’d rather not.”

“Now.” She whined. “It’s for my memory album.”

I rolled my eyes and obliged as Hazel snapped pictures. She stared at her screen for a few moments, and then at me.

“You know, if you were into men, the two of you would look very hot together.” She smiled. “I bet you’d make one hell of a porno scene with his lips, his rumored huge cock, and your breasts, you know?”

“Speaking of which—” She glanced at my chest. “Did you get a boob job lately?”

“The client, Miss Swift.” I pointed to the bathroom. “She’s already two hours late.”

“Fine. I’ve sent the picture to you and Tyler. See you at the banquet tonight.”

She walked away, and I made my way through the crowd of book banners and tables.

I had no desire to attend any of these events today; I just wanted to get back to my room, pass out, and wake up in the delivery room.

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