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Cameron sits back in his chair, studying his newly-painted nails, and considers what I’ve said.
I knew he wasn’t above making a deal if he had to.
This could go well. It could also go badly, but I’m going to hope for the best. I could save my job and get Julius off our authors’ backs, especially Levi’s. I’ll be the fucking hero and Cameron will be forever in my debt.
Or not.
There’s a knock at the conference room door and Ralph sticks his head in. I’m about to tell him I don’t need any more jellybeans when I see he’s looking directly at Cameron, and his face is a little pale.
What’s up? Someone stole his candy? Or he found a typo in his western romance, and the world is coming to an end?
“Um, boss, I think we have a problem.” He looks at me. “This affects you too, Amalia.”
I straighten in my chair. Holy shit. I have a lot riding on the line here. Any one of several things could go wrong. I hoped none of them would, but here we are.
Cameron sighs like he’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Well, get in here, Ralph. Don’t just stand there, teasing us.”
Ralph enters, ensuring the glass door closes completely behind him. He looks to make sure no one is eavesdropping through the floor to ceiling glass walls, then inches over to us and takes a seat, which he sits on only with the end of his butt like he may need to take off quickly and with little notice.
I decide to do the same. Just in case.
“Cameron, Amalia, I just picked up a copy of theNew York Postwhen I went out for my coffee?—”
Cameron wrinkles his nose. “You read that piece of?—”
But Ralph, in a completely out of character move, cuts him off. “Boss, let me finish, please,” he says, looking at the newspaper crumpled in his hand. “It’s Page Six.”
Oh God no.Page Six. The infamous gossip column followed by everyone in the city, whether they admit it or not.
Cameron rolls his eyes. “What? What’s it say, Ralph?” he snaps impatiently.
Cripes. He could be a little more gracious. Ralph wouldn’t come mincing in here if it wasn’t something important.
He opens the paper to Page Six and starts to read. “Page Six has learned that revered up-and-comer literary wunderkind Levi Maverick has penned a very naughty erotic romance?—”
The shaking starts at my fingertips. It travels up my forearms to my shoulders until it reaches my chest, and when it hits my stomach, I know the morning’s coffee is coming back up and there’s not a thing I can do about it.
I estimate the amount of time it will take me to get from the conference room to the bathroom. It’s close. Maybe ten seconds if I run.
I push myself to standing just as Cameron comes at me like a giant hungry monster about to eat my head.
“SIT DOWN,” he screams, and I fall back into my chair, looking for the closest trash can.
“Give me that.”He snatches the paper out of Ralph’s hands so fast it tears right down the middle.
I don’t know whether to laugh at how Cameron’s trying to put it back together so he can read it, or if I should cry about Levi’s being outed, or just run out of the building and never come back.
So I do neither and close my eyes, hoping the whole thing will just go away.
Maybe I can go back to last night, when all three guys were ravishing me beyond my wildest dreams. Or even this morning, when I woke up and found them in the kitchen, bleary-eyed and tousle-haired from the night before, making me coffee before I took off for the day, showering me with kisses and smiles, then walking me to the door like we’re really a team, a posse, that we care about each other and have each other’s’ backs and will do anything to take care of our happy little family.
It doesn’t get much better than that.
And it doesn’t get much worse thanthis.
Oh my God oh my God oh my God.
Can it be true? That the word is out about Levi and his Ryder Night book? How is that possible? Only a handful of people knew.
