Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHASE
Two Months Later
My agent calls on a Tuesday afternoon. After the hype that somehow started on social media for my upcoming second book, I managed to get signed by a literary agent.
"Chase, darling, I have incredible news," Rebecca says, her voice bright with excitement. "We have an offer for book three."
I'm sitting at my desk, laptop open, working on the manuscript. "Already?"
"Already. A publisher is thrilled with the pre-orders for book two and they want to lock you in for a third book immediately."
"That's…" I trail off, stunned.
"That's what happens when you write bestsellers, darling.
You become valuable. They want to ensure they have you locked in before another publisher tries to poach you.
But the real issue is that I know you've been private.
I know you've wanted to avoid public appearances, but at this level, Chase, it's expected. It's part of the job."
I'm quiet for a moment, my mind racing. Public appearances, people digging into my life asking questions. No, it’s non-negotiable. I can’t risk the world I live in with Noah.
"No, I only accept the deal with no public appearances. No book tours. No in-person events. Only written interviews and controlled media where I can craft my responses carefully."
“Chase…”
“Take it or leave it, Rebecca. I’m happy to continue as I am.”
“Leave it with me, I’ll call you soon.”
“Okay, take care.”
The call comes three days later.
"They agreed," Rebecca says, and I can hear the surprise in her voice. "They want you badly enough that they're willing to work with your conditions. Written interviews only with no public appearances. They'll handle all publicity through carefully controlled channels."
Relief floods through me. "Really?"
"Really. Your books sell themselves, Chase." She pauses. "Though I have to ask, why are you so opposed to public appearances? Most authors would kill for this kind of exposure."
"I'm just private," I tell her. "I prefer to let my work speak for itself."
"Well, your work speaks very loudly. Congratulations, Chase. You're officially a six-figure author."
After we hang up, I find Noah in the study, reviewing files on his laptop.
"They agreed," I tell him. "Written interviews only and no public appearances."
He closes the laptop, turning to face me before he pulls me against him, his hands sliding into my hair. "This is better. You can build your career without exposing us."
"I can’t believe they agreed."
“That’s because they know you are the best, baby,” he says, and I all but swoon at his words. How did I get so lucky?
Two Weeks Later
I'm sitting at my desk, working through my book, when I realize something.
I'm happy. Genuinely, deeply happy. I have a successful career built on journalling Noah's life.
I have financial security, even though Noah can afford to buy his own country, but the money is mine.
I have creative fulfillment along with complete privacy.
And I have Noah, who possesses and adores me completely.
My phone buzzes with an email from my publisher.
It’s the contract for the three-book deal and I spend time reading through it before I sign it electronically and send it back.
Then I return to my manuscript, writing about Noah's attack of the guy who was mugging the random lady weeks ago. I never found out if he survived or not, but in my book he doesn’t, and I detail every second of that encounter.
This is my life now. Writing fiction that's actually reality. Building a career on truth disguised as imagination. Exposing our darkness to the world while everyone thinks I'm being creative.
Noah enters the study, crossing to stand behind my chair. His hands rest on my shoulders squeezing tightly.
"How's it going?" he asks.
"Good. It’s actually a lot of fun knowing that the details are the truth but everyone will think I have a warped mind.”
"Look how far you’ve come, baby."
"It’s like a fairytale, isn’t it?” I say, laughing.