Chapter 12
Kaelee
In the list of ways today could go tragically wrong, not even a hint existed that “fucked my editor” could be a possibility.
She’d known that Marie was a fake name obviously, as was Kaelee’s own shortened version of her name.
They’d admitted as much yesterday, and no one was completely honest on apps, and on an app designed to help people maintain their privacy, Kaelee assumed lies were far more common.
It was why she didn’t want to talk about jobs or real life with women she met through Sappho’s Kiss.
I was in her apartment.
Of course Marie had read Toni’s book and seen the show, she’s Toni’s editor. She’s my editor. Marie is Greta.
This can’t be happening.
“I’m sorry,” Kaelee blurted out, trying to sound less panicked than she was and hoping everyone thought she was just an anxious author.
That part was certainly true until this moment.
It’s hard to find my editor intimidating when she rode my face and begged me to fuck her.
Kaelee glanced at Greta, making eye contact in what she hoped was a come with me now and we need to talk way.
Kaelee tried to sound calm and asked, “Can I run to the ladies’ first? I should’ve stopped on the way in, but before we get started…”
“Of course!” Greta, who was her actual book editor and somehow also the woman she was knuckle-deep inside last night, sounded strained.
Do they all know something is wrong right now? Can they hear it?
“Let me show you the way,” Greta said, gesturing to the hallway in the same way she had navigated Kaelee through her apartment building last night.
Emily gave Kaelee a tense look and whispered, “Are you okay?”
“Totally. Can you take a look at the covers while I’m gone? I’d love your thoughts. I just … need a moment to pull my nerves together.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“I’m fine. Ma— My editor can direct me,” Kaelee choked out. She affixed her plastic smile, the one she’d perfected in the Alden household. Her face felt too tight, as if she could crack and something precious would spill out. It had been so long since she needed to pretend a dumpster fire was okay.
“Right this way,” Greta said, standing in the doorway of the conference room and gesturing toward the hall again. “Ms. Carpenter.”
Do not touch her. Do not even brush against her.
Greta’s heels made no noise on the low-pile, industrial-grade carpet.
Voices rose and fell from cubicles; machines hummed softly in the background.
The two of them, however, were silent as they walked toward the restroom.
They couldn’t talk freely out here as they walked passed cubicles of people, guaranteeing a lack of even the semblance of confidentiality.
A few tense moments later they arrived at a restroom, which was currently empty.
Greta jerked open the door with considerably less grace than she normally had.
“Here we are.” Greta sounded louder than normal as she added, “I’ll just pop in and check my makeup while we’re here if that’s okay. There are multiple stalls.”
“Sure…?” Kaelee stared at her editor, trying to wrap her mind around how impossibly awkward this was. They were inside a corporate bathroom and smiling tensely.
I had her bent over the sofa last night. Both of us moaning. Watching porn.
Kaelee felt like she was breathing too fast. Panic threatened to rise and carry last night’s meal with it. She was going to puke in the bathroom at her publisher’s office. Kaelee wished she had an anxiety pill just then. In terms of most awkward possible reveal, this was it.
I fucked my editor.
Greta click-clacked her way inside the bathroom.
She pushed open all three stalls and verified that they were totally alone.
Then she stared at Kaelee. “Oh. My. God. I cannot believe that you … that we…” She was wide-eyed with what looked like the edge of a full-blown panic attack.
“I can’t believe that you’re Kaelee Carpenter. ”
At least Kaelee wasn’t the only one shaken by the fact that they knew each other. There was small comfort in that fact. They were both overwhelmed by the mess they’d found themselves in.
“I am so sorry,” Greta blurted out. “I had no idea. I mean, Lee, Kaelee, I guess I should’ve said, ‘Hi, are you by any chance an author?’ But do you know how many Lees I’ve met?”
“No…?”
“Exactly. A lot. There were a lot.” Greta leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, and took several deep breaths. She opened her eyes and added, “It’s such a nongendered name and—”
“Hey.” Kaelee stepped in front of her, too close to be casual, and asked, “Are you going to freak out for a while yet? Because I bet we don’t have that long until someone checks on us. Both your assistant and my agent could tell something was off.”
“You’re right. Of course you’re right. Fuck.” Greta took a loud breath, her head tilted back like she was staring at something on the ceiling.
Lies. Everything was lies.
“Fuck.” Kaelee counted her breaths, forcing herself toward a calm that she didn’t feel.
“You’re my author.”
“I am aware.” Kaelee folded her arms over her chest. “It certainly creates an awkward thing. I mean, I was liking our power balance the way it was, but you’re in charge of my book’s fate so … I guess that changes things.”
Greta gaped at her like she was unstable. “I can’t ever see you like that again, Ms. Carpenter. We will pretend it never happened and—”
“Guess that ‘being friends’ plan was a wash, then,” Kaelee sniped, feeling immeasurably insulted. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but she felt like she was paying a price.
Like I’m losing her.
As much as Kaelee understood the logic in Greta’s words, understood that she had to let this go, let Marie or Greta go, and she couldn’t even argue, it stung to be tossed aside so easily.
That was why she didn’t let feelings get involved, why she didn’t let her walls down.
People always disappointed her. Greta was no different, apparently.
“Lee…”
“I don’t use that name professionally, Greta.
” Kaelee went into a stall, mostly to buy herself a moment to push back the sense of heartbreak that was churning in her stomach.
She closed the stall door and took a moment to just think.
She had started to let Marie in. She knew better, but she had still done it.
Now she needed to pretend that the woman she’s been growing closer to was a different person entirely.
She’d finish her meeting and head home. She wasn’t going to have dinner—or sex—with Marie again.
What they’d shared was functionally dead with no warning at all.
Don’t be so weak, her insecurities ordered. She had spent a lifetime so far hiding her vulnerable parts, and this was the woman who could influence her career succeeding or failing. She can crush my dream.
When Kaelee walked out and stepped around Greta to wash her hands, she could almost feel Greta staring at her. And unlike last night, this stare didn’t make her feel warm and safe.
How could I have been so stupid?
“Can we talk tonight?” Greta asked quietly. “This was obviously not your fault or mine, but it happened, and now we need a plan.”
“Do I tell Emily?” Kaelee met Greta’s gaze in the mirror.
“I don’t know. If you decide to do that, can it wait until you and I talk?
” Greta pressed on her eyelids as if to hold them still or push back pain.
“I have no right to ask you that. As your editor I would never ask you to keep book-related things from your agent. I hope you know that. However, this is personal. We need to talk and decide what, if anything, we need to share with her or with the company.”
“You’re still the person I was starting to trust.” Kaelee realized she sounded irritated in a way that did neither of them any favors, so she tried to soften her tone.
“All I need to know is if you’re going to cancel my book deal.
The ARCs and the announcement are about to go out, and … it’s a good book, right?”
“No! I’m not going to cancel it. Why would I do that?” Greta looked at her like she was speaking in tongues. “I don’t know if I can edit your second book in good conscience. This won’t mean canceling anything, or you losing anything. I’ll make sure you are protected. You did nothing wrong.”
“Neither did you.” Kaelee frowned at her. “And you aren’t as observant as you claimed if you think I’m not losing something.”
Greta shook her head. “The priority is protecting you, the book, the house. I’m in a position of power over your career. This could … ruin me. If people found out that I … that we … I’d be done. Maybe I should be.”
“Absolutely not! You had no idea I was your author. I’m not going to lie, and you’re not going to lie.
We met as strangers, Greta. That was it.
What we do next is the concern. So let’s get back to the meeting.
I heard my editor was a real powerhouse, and I want to hear what the marketing plans are,” Kaelee said lightly.
She couldn’t stop the urge to look after Greta, who seemed to have the same reaction.
“I don’t know how to tell my editor that I’m terrified of a tour, and I really, really would like to stay as reclusive as possible.
I’m hoping that will be something my agent can address. ”
They stood in the small bathroom a moment.
Then Greta visibly straightened. She pulled her shoulders back and met Kaelee’s eyes.
“I feel like something beautiful was just torn out of my reach. I want you to know that. You are an amazing woman, Lee. That could have been more than sex for me. I think it already was becoming … It doesn’t matter now, does it?
” She opened the door and in a professional-sounding voice said, “If you want a more leisurely tour of the offices, I’m sure either my assistant, Ian, or any of your team would be happy to show you around and load you up on copies of our upcoming books. ”