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“You never checked.” Even before I finish, I know it was the absolute wrong thing to say.
“I’m not in the business of babysitting.” Everything about Vi shakes like she’s ready to shatter. Her fitted suit might be the only thing holding her together. “My clients work for their careers or find another agent.”
“I’m sorry.” I grip the door handle and squeeze the life out of the chipped brass.
She throws her hands up, letting out a harsh sound that has me shrinking into the doorway. “This isn’t some part-time job you can quit if you don’t feel like working. This is a grown-up career. With grown-up expectations.”
“I know.” My voice trembles.
“I don’t think you do.” She whips around, hands on her hips. “You don’t sign a contract and not deliver. And if you’re not going to meet deadline, the first thing you do is 911 your agent! And you never ever steal someone else’s words.”
“I’ll fix it.”
“You’ll fix what?” The sarcasm in her voice comes with a bite. “The diary? Your mom can sue you, me, the publishing company. If the court sees it as plagiarism, it can be a criminal offense. Or are you talking about the book you didn’t write? Are you going to pull eighty thousand words out of the air”—she checks the nightstand clock—“in three-and-a-half hours?”
And like the storm flashing outside, my life crashes in one big thunder bolt, and the guillotine hanging over my head releases.
chapter 54
Gabe
“Be yourself. Unless people don’t like you.”
~ Meredith Morgan
(played by the award-winning Meredith Wade)
Raising Ryder: Episode80
Thunder rips through the stairwell, and a text lights my screen.
Escalator Girl:Need you!
I squeeze the knots in my neck.
Me:On my way.
But my feet don’t get the message to move.
Kim’s a few hours from showing at the hotel. The contract hanging over my head has me in a chokehold. And Alan’s call yanked the plug on my easy-ever-after with Jess. Or maybe that’s on me because I’m the ass about to jack with her trust issues.
I should’ve told her about the contract. Now she’s dealing with her dad too—who may or may not have just put me on the boyfriend blacklist.
A text from pops up.
Kim:rm #?
Kim’s getting nowhere near my room. My fingers fly over the keys as I head up the stairs.
Me:Meet in lobby. Text when you get here.
Kim:Here.
I miss my next step and bang the shit out of my shin. Rubbing the needle-like vibrations, I weigh my options. Rush through my confession with Jess—I glance up the staircase, then glance down—or take a second to put Kim off so I have more time to explain her to Jess?
My girl is gonna need a lot of words. Deep, genuine-ass words. Didn’t-tell-you-about-Kim-because-I-didn’t-want-to-piss-you-off won’t cut it.
I lift my hood and head toward the lobby where Kim is taking selfies with a small group of tweens, stirring up cameras and conversations.
