Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Belle
There’s nothing sweeter than the smell of leather-bound books and aging paper. This is the kind of room I could disappear into forever, even if I had to sacrifice daylight to live among the horde of books. A queen among her people, er... pages.
Percy works diligently on his laptop. A little weird that he works from home as a book editor without needing internet, but he seems to take the job very seriously.
I wish I could remember what kind of work I do. Something I could do from the cabin? Curled up in a leather chair beside the window, looking out over the melting snow in the side yard, I feel right at home.
There’s a worn fantasy novel in my lap, one whose well-loved pages are crinkled at the edges. Percy suggested the book to me, something lighthearted that he said shouldn’t mess with my head while I’m waiting for my memory to return. I haven’t opened the book yet, too busy taking in every detail of the room and the fascinating man at the desk.
As I watch Percy, his eyebrows furrow. I watch curiously until his scent starts to turn, causing my nose to crinkle unhappily.
“What’s wrong?”
Percy glances up at me, his mouth opening and closing twice before he clears his throat. “I was just... remembering that Rhys checked my email for me while he was in town. One of the authors I work with was supposed to send me her new manuscript today.” He quickly corrects himself, “Yesterday, I mean.”
“And she didn’t send it?” I’m not surprised he’s just now remembering, considering the whirlwind we’ve had since Rhys brought me home.
Percy shakes his head.
“Maybe she’s still working on the book. Aren’t writers notoriously procrastinators?” Haven’t I heard that somewhere before?
“Not all of them.” Percy sheepishly admits, “She cuts the deadlines close sometimes, but she’s never been late for a final deadline. She already had the book done weeks ago, she was just doing final revisions before having me edit.”
“Oh. Can you email her? Well, I guess you’d have Rhys email her, maybe when he drives me back to the city?” I feel a pang in the center of my chest thinking about that moment. I kind of never want it to come.
Percy’s mouth twists into a deep frown.
“He could call her for you,” I suggest, continuing despite how little enthusiasm he seems to have for the topic now.
“Can’t call her,” Percy shrugs, “I don’t have any contact information for her besides the email she uses for her pen name. I don’t even know her real name to look her up.”
“Is that normal?”
He leans back in his chair with a weary sigh. “A lot of the authors I work with use a pen name, just like I work under a business alias. This particular author takes her complete anonymity very seriously, and I respect that. We’ve worked together for five years. She’s brilliant.”
I curl my fingers around the book in my lap for something to hold on to. I’m not sure I like the way his eyes get a faraway look while he talks about this mystery woman.
“Paige O’Hara, that’s her pen name, sends me these incredibly written romances. The only romances I edit, since I mostly work on fantasy and science fiction projects. Then, I tear them apart in the hopes of helping her make the book better, she thanks me with thinly veiled sarcasm, and we go our separate ways until she sends me an update on her next project.”
Does he even remember I’m still in the room?
I shift uncomfortably around in my seat, suddenly ready to abandon the library completely as these complicated feelings wash over me. I don’t like the bond he seems to have to this other person, but I don’t think I have any right to comment.
Funny how I’m not jealous at all of the dynamic between the three alphas, but the idea of someone from the outside having his attention?
Unthinkable.
Awful.
Completely unacceptable and enough to make me want to drape myself dramatically over his lap and beg him to never think of her ever again.
In real life, I work painstakingly to keep my voice even as I remark, “Having a low-contact client must work out great for you since you can only talk to them through Rhys when he goes into town.” I’m confused about how that system works, but I don’t think I want to hear anything more that has to do with her , right now.
“Right,” Percy agrees flatly, glancing away.
My thumb absentmindedly traces the spine of the book in my lap. I shouldn’t care so much about this connection of his, they don’t even talk . And yet, jealousy is rearing its ugly head.
I don’t mind sharing, I just don’t want to share like that .
“She’s lucky,” I murmur, surprising even myself with the blurted words.
Percy looks at me with startled, wide eyes.
He takes his time asking, “What do you mean?” with slow, careful words.
“To have you,” I clarify reluctantly. “Even if it’s just through emails.”
My throat is all choked up. I fall silent as I blink back unexpected warmth at the corners of my eyes, where they suddenly feel watery. Whatever I do, I cannot cry about this. I don’t have that right.