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I raise my hands. “Look, Cam. I didn’t write the damn book. Levi did. You told me to acquire it, and I did.”
I cross my arms victoriously, just to piss him off more. I don’t care. I did nothing wrong. He can fire my ass. But it would piss the guys off to no end.
Of that, I’m sure.
He presses his lips together like he’s trying to hold in all the vitriol his mean little ass contains.
I cross my arms, getting a little peeved myself. “Cam, we’ll publish it under a pen name, and no one will ever know it’s Levi. The romance division will have a new book to promote, one that’s different than anything we’ve had in a long, long time.”
He stomps his foot. Then he stomps his other foot, reminding me of Rumpelstiltskin and how he stomped so hard he went right through the ground and was never seen again.
If only.
“Cancel this contract, Amalia. Get rid of it.”
This is going too far.
“I can’t. It’s binding. Levi has consented to our acquisition.”
He lifts his chin. “Fine then. You’re fired.”
A sledgehammer plows through my stomach.
It’s funny. You expect to be fired, but when it actually happens, it’s still a shock. It still hurts. It still makes you feel like vomiting.
“You do that, and Levi comes with me,” I say.
Take that, creep.
“You can’t do that. He’s not going to work with you. You’re a nobody.”
I ball my fists so hard my nails cut into my palms. The man is despicable. A walking piece of human trash.
“I’ve already discussed it with him,” I lie. I’m taking a risk, but I’m pretty sure Levi would rather work with me than this asshole.
Cameron sinks into his chair and blankly stares at the desk in front of him. Have I won? Have I defeated Goliath?
For a moment, I’m sad. It didn’t have to be this way. He could accept that Levi wrote the book and get back to business as usual.
“We’ll keep this quiet, Cam,” I say, for some reason feeling responsible for soothing this jerk who just tried to can my ass.
He mumbles something I can’t hear, and I return to my desk feeling both victorious and defeated at the same time.
36
AMALIA
“Hey, Julius,”I croon. “When are we gonna get that coffee?”
I’m psyching myself up for the challenge of all challenges—spending time with Julius and pretending to enjoy myself.
“Amalia? Amalia Plum?” His voice squeaks with barely contained excitement.
Yes, it’s shocking I’m calling. But have some game, dude. I’m not the fucking president of the United States.
“Yeah, Julius. It’s me, Amalia.”
There is shuffling in the background. God, I hope he’s not naked or anything. Not that I can see him. I just don’t want to talk to him if he’s naked.
