Page 92 of Definitely Not Him

Making Moves

Tyler

Seattle, Washington

Tyler Carrington II Nabs First Four NYT & Sunday Times Bestsellers as Co-CEO of Rogue Publishing

Heiress Hazel Swift Spotted with Prince Carrington Again, Employees Mum on Affair

Rogue Publishing to Host “Gala to Remember,” Carrington Vows to Throw a True Party

Who’s the New COO With All The Secrets? Heiress & Prince Share a Former Assistant, Chloe March

Assumptions

Chloe

Seattle, Washington

22 weeks & 6 days pregnant

Bedrest was for the birds.

I could only do so much from home, only read so many things on my back before wanting to get up and walk.

Unfortunately, Zoey watched my every move like a hawk and sent Tyler updates whenever I tried to sneak in additional walks.

So far, I’d missed out on almost every profile publishing event, and my heart ached with every “Sorry we missed you” basket my coworkers sent the following day.

There was the Young Adult convention, a special mystery and thrillers dinner, Annual Pitch Day (my favorite), and I was a little over two weeks away from missing the highly anticipated gala where Tyler promised to soften the blow by using my sketches for decor inspiration.

I made a mental note to space out these events in the coming years, so that this would never happen to anyone else sentenced to bedrest.

As I was watching a recorded version of the YA convention, Tyler walked through the front door.

“Well?” I sat up on the couch. “What did I miss on the annual pitch day? Don’t make it hurt too badly, please.”

He smiled, taking his precious time to unbutton his blazer. Then he loosened his tie.

“Seriously?” I crossed my arms. “Tell me which pitches were accepted and rejected, which titles we’re pushing for the spring, and which new authors are getting the big debut packages.”

“We postponed the meeting for another month.”

“What? Why?”

“Because a certain someone needs to be there, and it’s unfair that the most enthusiastic person doesn’t get a seat at the table, all because she’s under the weather.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not.” He walked over to me, sitting on the edge of the couch. “Everyone agreed. Except Hazel, of course.”

“Of course.”

“She's starting to suspect that I like you.”

“Is she wrong?”

“Yes.” He trailed a finger against my mouth. “I more than ‘like’ you, and she’s months late with her assumption.”

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