Chapter Nine
ISOBEL
Boston
Things were weird in the office for weeks following the conference. Adrian hadn’t tried to contact me, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I’d assumed that once we’d become intimately acquainted with each other, he’d be even more of a jackass. The few times I’d seen him, he’d been tolerable, even surprisingly professional. I wasn’t sure if my need to acknowledge what’d happened between us was driven more by my ego or by the sudden attraction I couldn’t seem to shake.
I’d never been one to chase men. I was typically the one who let them pursue me, at least back when I’d made time for dating. It’d been a long time since someone chased me. Even longer since I’d bought into the whole relationship and romance thing. A relationship that failed as badly as mine did changed your perception of your entire future.
I didn’t particularly appreciate that he’d been able to come back to work and interact with me like he hadn’t had his mouth on the most intimate parts of my body. And there were several parts he hadn’t touched that I now wish he had. He’d been the first man to touch me with that much enthusiasm since…
My phone chimed from my desk, pulling me out of my distracting thoughts. Kristine had gone to the coffee shop down the street to get our lunches, so I had some time to sit quietly and figure out why I had been so unsettled lately .
Hitting the phone to activate the speaker, I tried to put on my professional tone, not letting on that my head was a mess. “Isobel here.”
“Hi, Is,” the executive assistant, Chloe, who worked on the eleventh floor, answered, and I frowned as I tried to figure out why she’d be calling me during lunch. “Do you have some time available in your schedule this afternoon to come up and speak with Sloane about something?”
Quickly grabbing my work phone and pulling up the calendar app, I scanned, seeing a block of time open in a few hours. “Yeah, I can come up around 2:00. Will that work for her?” I could shuffle some things around if I needed to, but I hated having to reschedule check-ins with my authors. Some of them could get squirrelly when in a creative state and ghost my calls, but they knew not to miss pre-scheduled calls from me.
“That fits with her afternoon. I’m still waiting on word from Adrian, but I know she wants to talk to both of you before the weekend.”
My heart started to pound at the mention of her wanting to meet me with Adrian, but I managed to keep my voice even as I said my goodbye and set the handset back on the phone cradle.
Fuck.
We had sat across the room during staff meetings, but I hadn’t spoken with him face to face since he had his face to my…
No.
Bad Isobel, don’t think about the mind-blowing things that man could do with his tongue or how pretty his dick was. He is a dick.
The car ride home from Maine would have been a perfect time to talk to him about what happened because he couldn’t escape, but my mind hadn’t been able to rest the night before, so I fell asleep leaning against the passenger side window before we ever hit the highway. Then I was too tired to bring things up when he’d dropped me off at my building, and he hadn’t pressed the issue, leaving me with a smile and a wave that confused me even more.
I was a jittery mess for the next two hours, losing focus and reading the same line edits repeatedly until I gave up and checked on the formatting for one of my authors latest books.
Chase Rodgers—known in the romance world as Chastity Rose —was killing it in the spicy romantic comedy sub-genre, and I was excited about her upcoming new series. She’d written a few chapters and a rough outline, but I knew once this book was published, she’d put her nose down and crank out the rough draft of the next manuscript pretty quickly.
At a quarter till 2:00, I made my way to the elevators, glad that everyone seemed to be busy and not using them now. Small talk when you were trapped in an enclosed space was beyond awkward, and since we were going to the same place, I especially didn’t want to end up trapped in one with Adrian, even if it was only to ride up one floor.
Luck clearly wasn’t on my side. As the elevator doors slid open and the one to the stairwell swung open at the same time I walked into the foyer on the executive floor. Adrian was adjusting his cufflinks, but stopped when he saw me standing a few feet away, gawking at him.
“Isobel.” He nodded, gesturing to the glass doors in front of us with his head. My entire body tingled with awareness as he stepped behind me and reached forward to open the door. “After you,” he whispered, that arrogant teasing tone amplified by his rough voice.
“Thank you,” I squeaked, clearing my throat before stopping at the reception desk. “Chloe knows we’re coming for an appointment with Sloane.”
The receptionist waved us through with a smile, and I tried to shake my nerves by taking a few deep breaths, but when Adrian’s palm settled in the middle of my back, I nearly stumbled in my high heels.
“Calm down. It’s nothing bad. ”
Pausing mid-stride, I looked back at him hesitantly. “You know why she wants to see us?”
“I might.”
His palm was burning an imprint on my back through my thin blouse, while a smirk formed on his lips. Lips I hadn’t tasted yet. Not that I wanted to. “And you’re not going to tell me?” I asked, my voice breathy as I licked my suddenly dry lips.
“You didn’t ask.”
Growling under my breath, I fought the urge to punch him in the nuts as he continued to smile at me. “I literally just asked.”
“But not nicely.” He teased with a shrug, failing to remove his hand from my back. “Say please, Isobel.”
“I’m not saying please.”
He stepped forward, his chest brushing against my shoulder. “But it sounded so hot coming from your lips the last time. Although the actual coming part was even hotter.”
My cheeks flamed as I cleared my throat and stepped away. “You told me you’d keep your mouth shut.”
He turned, looked behind him, and stepped even closer as he peered over my shoulder down the other end of the hallway. “Don’t worry, the secret of how you sound when you…”
My eyes widened as I slapped my palm over his mouth, just as he’d done to me. “Not another word. You promised.”
He clasped my hand, prying it loose as he leaned toward my ear, his smooth cheek brushing my jaw. “I promised no such thing. I said I’d keep it a secret, not that I wouldn’t talk to you about it. Since you told me it’s never happening again, I’ll just have to reminisce at the memories of you on your knees in front of me. And the taste of your delicious puss—”
“You arrogant fucking assho—” I interrupted him with a hiss, and his hand covered my mouth again as he stepped closer.
“Save the tongue lashing for later. We’ll be late if we don’t keep moving.” Adrian removed his hand, using the one on my back to urge me toward Sloane’s office at the end of the hall. When I took a hesitant step forward, he leaned in close, his chest pressing against my back. “Good girl.”
Fuck.
He could not start that shit with me. I’d read enough of Chase’s smutty novels to see how falling for the asshole went. I just needed to get through this meeting and return to avoiding Adrian. Just because he was attractive, could captivate a crowd at a conference, had an objectively pretty penis, and could do things with his tongue that literally had me shaking did not mean that I had to like him.
Sloane’s door was open when we turned the corner, and she smiled widely when she saw us approaching. Chloe was on the phone at her desk just outside the office door, but motioned for us to go in.
“You can close the door.” Sloane gestured as we stepped inside, and Adrian tipped his head toward the chairs in front of her desk, indicating for me to sit before he pulled the door closed with a soft snick. “Great. Let’s get started, shall we?”
“I’m ready whenever you are,” Adrian responded while I took a seat, noticing his eyes lingering on my legs. Scowling in his general direction, I expected him to look away, but his smile only widened, and he winked. Dick.
“Well, when you first approached me after the staff meeting yesterday, Adrian, I was skeptical about what you requested, but after looking through Evan’s manuscript, I think your assessment may be correct.”
Still having no idea what they were referring to, I kept my mouth shut and listened to her talk about the manuscript in question for a few moments. I wasn’t sure why they needed me here for this meeting, but she’d requested me specifically.
“Isobel, has Adrian explained what he requested to you?”
Giving my head a slight shake, I looked between them. “No, he’s kept all this quite a secret.”
“I am good at keeping secrets,” he replied while winking again. Smug bastard.
“I’m sure you’re familiar with one of his authors, Stone Evans?”
I nodded, recognizing the name. The author, Evan, had made quite a name for himself in the last several years with a few bestsellers. I’d only briefly met him once in passing, but he typically stayed away from the publishing house events and author events in general. Word had it he’d fled the city after a nasty breakup, but I tended to ignore office rumors.
“Well, he’s finished a manuscript we were hoping had potential, but there are some passages that’ve made it through the first round of edits that just aren’t shaping up like we need to see to move forward with going to print.”
Glancing over at Adrian, his expression wasn’t the smug arrogance I was used to seeing from him, especially around our superiors. “I need your help, Isobel.”
“With what?” I clamped my lips together at the sound of my voice, my tone slightly incredulous. Adrian asking me for help and getting our boss to back him up was the last thing I expected.
“I was thinking.”
“That’s dangerous,” I muttered, cringing when Sloane chuckled from behind her desk. She knew that Adrian and I didn’t have the best working relationship. But I still should try to remain professional in her office.
“As I was saying,” Adrian stated, clearing his throat, and sitting upright in his chair. His expression was almost pleading, so I kept my snarky comments to myself and let him continue. “I thought that since you have several well-established authors who excel at romance and slightly suspenseful plot lines, maybe we could arrange to have one of them consult on his novel. I asked Sloane about the possibility of bringing in a writing consultant, and she suggested using someone in-house.”
“Let me get this straight. You need me to lend you one of my authors to clean up your golden boy’s manuscript because you can’t handle it? Why romance? I don’t get it. ”
“I can handle it just fine, but he’s having trouble grasping what I’ve asked for in the edits. I think he needs another creative to help him flesh out the scenes a little more. It’s a suspense novel with a prostitute and a police detective who have a rather tumultuous relationship.”
“Where do my authors come into play with this? Are you telling me Evan is having trouble writing a romantic subplot?” I had several competent authors who were more than capable of consulting on a project and a few who mentored up-and-coming writers, but I’d never been asked to lend one out to an editor of another genre.
“You know Evan’s background, right?” Adrian asked, leaning back in his chair as he faced me.
Glancing toward Sloane, she nodded at Adrian, clearly just here as a facilitator for this request. Did Adrian think I would’ve said no if he’d just asked me directly? Well…I probably would have, but I didn’t know what that said about my behavior toward him. Was I that unsupportive to my co-workers? Or did I just have that much animosity built up toward him?
“I’ve heard that he likes to keep to himself.”
Adrian chuckled, his expression warming as he turned to face me further in his chair. “That might be an understatement. He has generalized anxiety disorder, so he doesn’t socialize outside of his inner circle. He’s not completely sheltered, but it’s been a while since he’s been exposed to the content he’s trying to write. And he’s become a bit of a recluse over the last two years after an emotionally abusive ex, so I need someone close that doesn’t mind going to him. And who will work at his residence.”
“He’s not in Boston anymore?”
He shook his head, reaching down to grab a packet of papers from his work bag. “He relocated to Connecticut and lives on a plot of land near a state park. Sloane has agreed to provide a stipend from Vivid, rental car if needed, and accommodations to whoever you choose to send.”
“How long are you planning for this consultation to last? I have several authors mid-contract. I don’t want to break their progress just to save one of yours.”
Sloane cut in, clearing her throat. “Whomever Adrian and Evan decide to request will be given appropriate extensions to their current contracts provided we get a quick resolution to this. Only half a dozen chapters need attention, so I’d estimate two weeks would be adequate time to get the manuscript up to par.”
“And what do I tell my authors when they ask why this must happen in rural Connecticut? Can’t he come to Boston for a few weeks and meet one of the local authors? If it’s not that much material to restructure.”
“Evan won’t come into the office to fix the manuscript.”
I scoffed, suddenly irritated that his inability to manage his talent was now leaving me to pick up the pieces. “And you’re okay with letting him tell you what to do? Doesn’t he have a contract with Vivid? Enforce the timeline of the document exchange. If he doesn’t deliver, then let legal deal with him.”
“Isobel,” Sloane soothed, sitting back in her chair, and letting it swivel gently from side to side. “Evan has some clauses built into his contract that limit the time we are legally allowed to call him into the office or require him to take part in promotional events. He’s threatened to take the penalty and scrap the book if we don’t find a solution to this. The pre-orders have already been up for over a month, so I’d like to avoid the bad press Vivid would get if we do that.”
“So, your author is a prima donna, and I need to send in a babysitter to get him to behave. Is that where we’re at?”
Adrian sighed, clearly thinking that having this discussion in Sloane’s office would give him the edge. “All I need from you is a list of authors and some hard copies of their books. Evan will choose who he wants to work with, and then we’ll go from there.”
“And if my author doesn’t buy into this?”
“Then we’ll choose someone else. ”
Turning back to face Sloane, I clenched my jaw, trying to remain professional. “At the first sign of misconduct by anyone in Adrian’s department, I want my author protected by Vivid. If we’re coming to the rescue in this situation, we have the flexibility to call the shots, and I want my editing team to have eyes on this document if my author’s name is being attached to this project.”
“Those sound reasonable. I’m sure we can include those in a written agreement between the two parties. Adrian, does that sound amenable?”
“Evan is a professional. I don’t see why there needs to be a mention of misconduct. What happens if your author harasses him ?”
“Alright,” Sloane interrupted as I opened my mouth to respond. “Both authors will be equally protected in the very unlikely event of something inappropriate happening during the consultation process. It would behoove both of you to play nicely during this, because it is in everyone’s best interest to get this book to print on time. Isobel, forward me a copy of that list once you narrow down the field, and keep in mind we need someone who knows how to write something graphic and spicy. Adrian, please get this settled with Evan as quickly as possible so we can arrange travel.”
Sloane opened the screen of her laptop, apparently dismissing us. I still had mixed feelings about this, but I was already narrowing down the authors who lived in the Boston or Hartford areas that I knew could handle something like this. One, in particular, didn’t have trouble being thrown into a new environment with someone who may be less than social. Now I just needed to convince Chase that this project was worth taking on and hope that Evan was alright working with her.
Adrian was quiet as we both gathered our things—a tense, awkward silence surrounded us as we stepped out into the hallway and walked back toward the reception desk.
I hated that he still seemed to be able to get under my skin. My reaction and defensiveness to his request for help weren’t making things any easier between us, but neither was his intentionally antagonistic behavior before we went into the meeting.
The receptionist was busy as we passed by her desk, and Adrian stepped forward to open the glass door to the foyer where the elevators were located.
“Thank you,” I whispered when I passed him, flinching as his hand grazed my back as the door closed behind us. This awkward tension was killing me.
This consultation project was going to upset the balance that we’d found over the past few weeks, and I wasn’t ready for it. I wasn’t prepared to deal with the shift in my perception of him.
Knowing he was hiding a thoughtful, sensually generous—but that was beside the point—intelligent, playful persona behind the fa?ade of Dickhead, made things harder for me. I didn’t want to like him, and he surely didn’t like me—not with the looks he’d given me in that meeting when I pushed back.
Shifting nervously from foot to foot, I watched the numbers change on the display above the elevator, fighting the urge to look behind me at where I knew Adrian was standing.
“Fuck this,” he mumbled as his hand circled my wrist, tugging me toward the stairwell door.
“What are you…?” I trailed off when I looked behind me at his murderous gaze. Deciding not to push the issue, I stumbled after him into the stairwell landing, the door closing behind us with a thump.
Turning to lay into him for manhandling me, he shook his head once, advancing on me, and I hastily backed up into the wall behind me. My fingers flattened against the cold concrete block as he caged me in with a hand on either side of my head.
“What tha fuck was that?” His voice was a raspy growl, his thick Bostonian accent unmasked and his face full of irritation.
“What was what?” I asked, my tone breathier than I ever wanted it to be in his presence .
“You in that meeting. I asked you for help, and you immediately implied that Evan was going to be sexually harassing one of your precious writers.”
Fighting back the urge to smack him, I straightened up, narrowed my eyes, and leaned toward him. His eyes widened as I encroached on his personal space, but he didn’t move an inch. “Excuse me for being cautious because your department has a reputation for being arrogant dicks about everything. If I remember correctly, you want my help, not the other way around, so I need to make sure you aren’t going to come in and bully my talent and throw off all my schedules. Everyone I have regionally is under contract right now, and saving your ass isn’t something I get paid for.”
Adrian’s jaw clenched as he stared into my eyes with that unnerving intensity he was so capable of, but I wasn’t backing down or letting him bulldoze over me as he did with everyone else.
“Sloane wasn’t asking you to help. That was just a courtesy. This request came from above her. If Evan tanks this release, we all lose, so why don’t you look at the bigger picture here and realize the revenue my department brings helps everyone stay afloat. If he nails this one, that’s one more mommy porn author you get to keep under contract, so just get me the list and quit being so condescending about it.”
“Excuse me?” Did he really just say my authors write mommy porn?
“You heard me. I don’t think I need to repeat myself. I may need your help now, but your job is secure because of my department.”
“Why you piece of…” My voice trailed off as I tried to keep my anger in check. He was goading me, and I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of feeding into this perception he had of me being difficult.
“Ass?” he smirked, his smile suddenly seeming less aggressive and more passionate as his eyes flickered down, an eyebrow rising as he looked right down the front of my blouse.
Throwing an arm over my chest, I blocked out his view, but he took his time, returning his gaze to mine, seeming to fixate on my lips. A surge of heat licked between us as I remembered what it felt like to have his hands on me. His long fingers and slightly rough palms, how his stubble had tickled the insides of my thighs.
“If you’d just pull the stick out of that tight ass of yours for a little while, I think this collaboration could be mutually beneficial.”
“I already told you I wasn’t sleeping with you.”
An amused chuckle rang out into the air between us as he brought the backs of his fingers to my cheek, brushing them against my heated skin. “Not where my head was, but good to know you’re thinking about sleeping with me.”
“You’re infuriating.”
“And you’re intoxicating,” he whispered as he leaned in, his lips softly ghosting over where his fingers had traced. I sucked in a surprised breath, my hand pressing into his chest, the muscles flexing as I wavered between pulling him closer and shoving him away from me.
“Stop.” Tilting my head to the side, I tried to push away the sensations that his warm breath on my neck was invoking, and stop imagining what it’d feel like if he kissed my lips instead of my cheek.
He backed up a few steps at my request, straightening out his tie and buttoning his open suit jacket. “I should be around until six tonight if you get me the list of names. I’ll get on Evan first thing tomorrow to get the ball rolling.”
As he turned, picked up his discarded briefcase, and descended the stairs back toward our floor, I tried to calm my racing heart and figure out what the fuck was going on between us.