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Her laptop was open, and it looked as though it was a document filling the screen.
Was that her new book?
And was that my name in the title?
I leant forward, squinting. It certainly looked like it, so I inched closer to the laptop until I could read it clearly.
Yes.
There it was.
My name.
I was going to assume that “Max Is A Dick” wasn’t the official title of the book, but more of a placeholder.
Interesting choice, though.
I leant on the back of the chair and reached for the mouse, hesitating before I put my hand on it.
Now, why was my name in the title?
The actual title itself? Understandable, to be perfectly honest. I had been a dick to her to begin with, but the fact it was still there…
Why?
I scrolled, skimming the paragraphs to see what she’d been writing. She was an excellent writer—from what I was reading, she had a great command of the English language, and I even snorted when the female character walked into the hero and spilt her tea all over them both.
Romance followed a solid formula, and Ellie clearly knew it exceptionally well. I supposed that was why she was as successful an author as she was—she knew her audience and what they wanted from her and she provided it unashamedly.
Everything from the setting to the characters was described so thoroughly that I could see it in my mind, but it was the heroine’s evaluation of the hero that made me stop.
Black hair.
Blue eyes.
Tall.
That sounded rather familiar.
I wheeled back the office chair and sat down comfortably in front of the laptop. She had my attention now. Perhaps it was wrong of me to read what was clearly a work in progress, but her hero’s description was awfully similar to that of me.
The next chapter revealed the hero to be a duke.
My eyebrows shot up.
Was she writing about me?
Was her hero…me?
I kept reading, skimming the book until the lead character described the hero as “The Duke of Arseholery.”
That answered my question.
That sounded like the kind of thing Ellie would say about me.
I kept going. The house she described as the one the hero owned was eerily similar to Greygarth Lodge—it was a cross between this one and Greygarth House, actually. The interior was almost entirely made up, aside from a very accurate description of the library that made my lips twitch.
The final chapter was not the one I was expecting.
