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“I think she’s going to court, actually. Last I knew, she was trying to claim a ghost-writer was responsible for it.”
“That’s a weak defense.”
“Indeed. Originally, she said her book was written first so there was no way it could be plagiarism, but I think the publisher had to get involved to show the delivery dates of the manuscript, so she changed her story.”
Max clicked his tongue. “And here I thought publishing was boring.”
“Boring? Publishing? No way. It’s filled with drama and self-loathing and regular bouts of crying into a tub of ice-cream you probably should have put down twenty minutes ago.”
“Wouldn’t it have melted after twenty minutes?”
“No. Because you’ve eaten it all because you’re so sad.”
He pressed his lips together in a pitiful smile, but there was an amused glimmer in his eyes. “You know, you could just move to Los Angeles and become an actress for a lot more money if you like that sort of thing.”
“I could, but I can’t act. Although if anyone out there wanted to turn my book to a movie, I’d happily go.” I paused. “This took a bit of a wild turn from you dating to how much I regularly hate myself.”
Max dipped his chin, and his shoulders shook.
“Stop laughing at me!”
He peered up at me, fuckinglaughing. “That conversation was a hell of a ride, Ellie.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ELLIE
Fake Dates Don’t End Well
It really was a hell of a ride.
That’s what my brain was like, though.
A back and forth with myself until I’d boarded the mental train at one station and gotten off on another planet.
That pretty much summed up my entire life, actually.
“Well, you know,” I said after a moment. “Now you know what it’s like to be inside my head.”
“It sounds terrifying.”
“It is. I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“Then you’ll be pleased to know that I have absolutely no intention of getting inside your head.”
But he was inside my head.
The handsome bastard was living there rent-free.
Judging by the suit he was wearing, he wouldn’t be leaving any bloody time soon, either.
“I can only assure you that is a very good idea,” I replied. “Now talk to me about Windermere.”
Max’s eyebrows shot up. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything. I already have Penny for my regular source of village gossip, but you’re the only person here who knows what’s happening in my book.” I looked at him pointedly for that, but he simply smiled smugly at me. “The bottom line is that I need enough to make my heroine fall in love and decide to stay with the hero.”
Max blinked at him. “Isn’t he enough for her?”
