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That wasmuchbetter.
“Ooh… The seafood linguine looks good,” I mused.
Max nodded. “It is. Very good.”
“Then I’ll have that one, please.” I smiled up at the waiter who nodded and looked to Max.
Max ordered a steak, and we were left alone once again.
“Dating is hell,” he said, picking our conversation up where we’d left off a few minutes ago.
“I won’t disagree,” I replied. “But is itreallyall that bad?”
“If you think it’s bad, imagine what it’s like to be me.” He tilted his head to the side. “I have a noble title with a large, old estate, and people assume I’m sitting on some billionaire fortune, and that’s before you consider the proximity to the royal family.”
I pressed my lips together.
Of course.
I knew that.
Wasn’t that the exact reason I was using for my hero in this current book? It was one I’d used a couple of times, actually, because it was one that was easy to understand.
I was going to have to rework this book so it wasn’t so close to home.
“People see… stuff,” Max continued, waving a hand. “Aside from the fact I don’twantto date and have no desire to get married and do everything that comes along with that, it makes it incredibly difficult to find someone who has genuine intentions.”
I nodded slowly. “I can understand that. It’s not really the same, but it’s why I keep my circle small. I’m pretty successful as an author and—”
He stared at me.
“Very successful,” I corrected myself, blushing. “After my second book blew up, I went to some author conventions and things like that, and at one of the larger ones where authors were usually sponsored by their publisher, I met someone who had her first book coming out. Her publisher hadn’t paid for her to be there, she got her own ticket, and she seemed so nice. I did a panel on creating realistic conflict, and she asked me if I’d be happy to go for coffee after. We got along really well and became good friends to the point I read and recommended her debut book professionally, and when it became an instant bestseller, she ghosted me.”
Max’s mouth thinned into a line. “I’m sorry.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “It’s one of those things, you know? I wasn’t the only person she did it to. You live and you learn, but I suppose when you’re in a position of… I don’t know, power? That doesn’t seem like the right word, really, but you know what I mean.”
He nodded.
“When you’re in that position and have something to offer other people, you’re an easy target.”
“What happened to her? The other author you were friends with?”
I picked up my glass of wine and sipped to hide my smile. “She was sued for plagiarism last year and got dropped by her publisher.”
“Did she do it?”
“Oh, yeah. Readers on social media are the most voracious, observant people, and it didn’t take them long to compile an online dossier of all the comparisons. She used a lesser-known self-published author and thought nobody would notice. What she failed to realise is that readers don’t care how many bestseller tags you have to your name—they care about what’s inside the book.”
He bobbed his head slowly. “She’s a nice person, then.”
“The sweetest,” I drawled.
His lips tugged to one side, and he took the tiniest sip of his wine. “You look like you’re enjoying that.”
“Enjoying is a strong word.” I paused. “I… think it’s a classic example of karma.”
“What happened after? Did she settle or go to court?”
