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“I love you.”
Not until a second later did Paige realize she was the one who said that first. Rhea’s only response was a languid kiss to her wife’s throat as she continued to catch her breath.
“Fuck, I love you.” Paige spread her arms wide. Rhea was still inside of her, making Paige feel like the most pinned-down woman to ever live.Liberating.She no longer had to think or plan a damn thing. Rhea had it all figured out for her. “Best weekend ever.”
When Rhea finally had the energy to sit up, she isolated the movement to her torso.Heaven forbid we become disconnectednow,honey.Paige began giggling uncontrollably as she quickly realized she was consumed with the kind of post-sex feelings that made her higher than a hot air balloon. Rhea slowly pulled the strap-on out of her wife. It was the gentlest thing she had done since slapping Paige on the ass.
“I spent a long time planning all of that.” Rhea placed her hand on her hip as she gazed down at her wife with a sweaty visage. “Was kinda worried I might have gone too far a couple of times.”
With a salacious moan in her throat, Paige sat up and traced a line between the two large freckles on her wife’s arm. “Not possible.” She tugged the strap-on, knowing that the tiny nubs on the other end were probably perfectly aligned with Rhea’s clit. Sure enough, Rhea went down, a feminine gasp dancing in the air.
This is what you’ve done to me.Paige couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t stop until Rhea made her, and based on the way she groaned when her wife’s tongue flicked against the strap-on? They were going to stay here a good while longer. Dinner could come later. Right now, all there was in Paige’s world was bringing more pleasure to the woman who had gone all out for hers.
Chapter 20
RarelydidanyonefromRhea’s New York publisher come to LA. As it so happened, the acquisition’s editor was in town for an award gala that had nothing to do with Rhea but went out of her way to treat one of her authors to lunch in Beverly Hills.
Jimmy’s gonna love this.Her agent had no idea she was going straight to the source and bypassing him entirely. Then again, as long as Rhea was signed with him and still having work picked up by her publisher, he got his cut.Less work for him.And since this lunch was on the publisher’s dime? Rhea sprung for the prime steak lunch that came with a glass of red wine and chocolate mousse for dessert. It had been so long since her lunch was more decadent than her dinner that she might skip the evening meal altogether.
“We’re looking at a summer 2024 release right now,” said Parvati, who was more concerned with the texts coming through her phone than the salad in front of her. “You’ll have your first round of edits back at Halloween. If you meet your New Year’s deadline, we should have the galleys done by Memorial Day. Cover art by Easter…” She sat back and scratched her chin, eyes still glued to her phone. Rhea had put hers away as a courtesy, but she forgot this was abusinesslunch. “Yes. Make that late summer.”
“Sounds pretty quick for you guys.” Rhea personally knew some independent authors who put books outwayquicker, but New York usually worked on a two-year publishing cycle. “You must really want this book out.”
“Rhea, babe!” Parvati finally looked up, although her eyes darted between Rhea’s face and the phone between them. “You’re about to blow up as one of the hottest literary authors this side of the Rockies! Why do you think I’m taking time out of my day to have lunch with you? I’m here to talk business, sure, but I also want to praise you on all of your success.”
“Really? Have I missed something?”
“‘Stage Kids Having Brunch’was one of our bestselling titles last year and was nominated for several awards. Have you forgotten?”
Rhea cocked her head in mild bemusement. “Sure, but it didn’t win anything.”
“Tsk!Nominations are almost worth more than actual awards. We can collect more of those for the sales page. People love a nominee who never won anything. Almost as much as they love authors who never get nominated for anything but still collect fans every time they sneeze out a few words.”
“I see.”
“The current book needs work, sure, but what manuscript doesn’t?” That was the harshest thing Parvati had said during this lunch, but she uttered it so flippantly that Rhea let it slide off her back. “We’ll get it cleaned up in record time. We’ve got Florence on it right now as we speak.” She referred to the usual line editor Rhea worked with on her books. Because Parvati was anideas and networkingeditor who saw a hit in the making, not the kind of editor who corrected Rhea’s grammatical faux pas.Is this the real Hollywood experience right here?Rhea was tired, and not only because she lived in Los Angeles County.
“I’m flattered you believe so much in my work.”
“Of course we do! That’s why we give you that nice advance, babe.” Parvati flagged down the waiter and ordered another soda water. “You’ve got a natural talent for this whole ‘literary fiction’ thing. Trust me. I have an eye for it. Who do you think convinced the boys on the board to take you on as an unknown? I haven’t had a win like that inages.Which reminds me… are you hard at work on your next masterpiece yet? What’s it about? You must tell me. I want the inside scoop before that agent of yours tries to take credit.”
When the waiter returned with Parvati’s water, Rhea asked him for a to-go box for what she couldn’t eat. She sat back and folded her hands in her lap, elbows hanging over the arms of her chair. “I’ve been taking a bit of a creative break from lit-fic. Refilling the well, as they say.”
“Oh? I hope it’s worth it. Are you working on something we might be interested in?”
“Uh…” Rhea couldn’t help it. When a woman put her on the spot like this, she blushed.Someone call Paige and tell her it happened. I’ll owe her five bucks.When Paige heard her wife was having lunch with the “pretty acquisitions editor” she claimed that Rhea would stutter at some point.It’s almost like my wife knows I’m attracted to feminine women in short dresses.Parvati had dressed for the summer LA weather, all right, and Rhea had done her best to not stare at the eye-catching thighs beneath a Saks Fifth Avenue skirt.
“Don’t tell me it’s horror. We can’t do shit withhorror.”
“I know some people who might call it that…” Rhea couldn’t bring herself to describe what she had been writing. Not in front of a woman she barely knew, not in public, and definitelynotwith a (male!) waiter boxing up half a steak into a take-out box. “I mean, it’s not genre horror. It’s low-brow stuff.”
Parvati laughed. “Personally, I love me some ‘low-brow’ fiction in the bath after spending my whole day talking about stuffy tales of disenchanted businessmen and doped-up housewives plotting murder. You know, you strike me as someone who churns out some cozy mysteries.”
“I’m not sure what those are.” Rhea had a decent idea, based on her multiple trips to libraries and bookstores over the years, but the “cozy” part eluded her. It was either likeMurder, She Wrote,orFargo.Those are not the same, right?At least now Rhea had the image of Angela Lansbury taking Frances McDormand’s role in the iconic ‘90s movie.
“So, what is it?”
“It’s really not something I planned on publishing,” Rhea lied. “Let alone something I think you guys will be interested in.”
