Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
Dutch
The lake was going to have to wait. Once the ball was rolling with my publisher, I spent every day in meetings both teleconference and on the phone.
I was ready to say screw it and move to Fiji.
I had enough money to live comfortably even if I ended up giving my advance back to Raven Boulevard.
Unfortunately breaking a contract wasn’t as easy as giving money back to them.
There was a stipulation of rights of first refusal of my next book in every one of my contracts.
You couldn’t exactly delete one and just toss it out the window.
Which is why I now had two lawyers.
Fuck.
“Dutch!”
“One sec,” I called from my office. Because I’d been interrupted every damn minute with calls, I was behind on what I was actually supposed to be doing—writing.
A low growl followed by a sharp bark had me straightening up.
Mouse might be ninety percent Great Pyrenees, but he wasn’t really all that vocal when it came to guarding the house.
I closed my laptop and hurried down the hallway to the living room.
Phoebe was in a pair of shorts and ripped sweatshirt that hung off her shoulder.
She’d been baking all morning between the two houses for her brother’s birthday party later that day.
She was holding Mouse by the collar. Suddenly the dog lunged forward. I hurried over to grab him from her.
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. Mouse has been pacing near the door and just started freaking out.”
“Sit.”
Mouse whined, but plopped his butt right next to Phoebe.
I went to the window and peeked outside. A familiar sportscar was parked in the road. The low suspension couldn’t handle the gravel road that led to my driveway.
“Shit.”
“What?”
“It’s Christopher. I didn’t even know he knew where I was.”
“What?” Phoebe hurried over to me. “You have to be kidding me.”
Mouse started growling again when I went to the door. “It’s okay, buddy.”
He pushed his way around me and through the door, barking as he tore off down the stairs. I hurried after him, but slowed at the top of the stairs when it was obvious Mouse wouldn’t actually bite him.
Christopher looked rough. His usual New York City polish was replaced with rumpled dress pants and a stained linen shirt. Three days of stubble dotted his wan skin and his hair stuck out in chaotic spikes.
Mouse laid down right in front of the property line and continued with a low growl.
“Will you call off your dog?” He called up as he hustled behind the door of his car.
I crossed my arms over my chest, trying not to betray my shock. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I thought we should talk.”
“Little late for that. It’s been a fucking year, Chris. You fucking disappeared with my novel.”
“You don’t understand. I had to.”
My eyebrows shot up.
“The agency was axing me if I didn’t sell another book.”
“So you fucking stole my book? Made me think I lost my fucking mind?”
“Dutch?” Phoebe’s voice was hesitant.
I turned to her. “I’m okay.” Then I shot down the stairs to the grass.
She followed me down, stopping at Mouse to soothe him.
“You can write another book. I can’t get another career. You don’t get it.”
“I can—” Flabbergasted, I stopped right before the road. “You stole my contracted book. Then you had your girlfriend rewrite it. She couldn’t just write her own book? You could sell anything.”
“No! She’s barely literate.” Chris fisted his fingers in his hair making it stick out all the more. “But I knew she could edit the fuck out of yours and make it work. It wasn’t even a horror book anymore. You were off the mark.”
I staggered back a step. “Off the mark? It was so off the mark that you got another six figure deal for a rip-off version of my book!” The roar of my voice sounded loud even to my ears. The anger that had built inside me over the year reappeared like it had been dormant.
I rounded the hood of his car and Chris stumbled back, holding up his hands. “Dutch. You could have just done me a solid. You stayed quiet for so long, I thought you understood.”
“Understood? Are you insane?”
“I made sure to get the extension first. That you’d have time to come up with another book.”
“You did what?”
He swiped his sweaty forehead. “I talked to Monte. I told her you were having a little difficulty finishing up the book since it was so different from your other work.”
“That’s why they bought it. Because it was different. They believed in the book and me.”
“Because I pushed hard for it. I’m the one who made you who you are.”
Phoebe gasped from behind me. I held up a hand to her. “I made my career. Not you.”
“If it weren’t for me you’d be at some small-time publishing house forever. It was me who pushed for bigger advances. You’d have been happy with a pittance.”
“I wanted my work read, that’s it.”
“And because of me, it was. By millions of people, and you never appreciated that. I went to the mat for you with every book and got you more.”
“Got you more,” I said flatly.
“Yes, me. I deserved it. You couldn’t sell a book if it was stuck to your forehead saying ‘free.’ You just want to write.
Do you realize what it takes to make people care about an author these days?
They want movies or torture porn. But I always find a way to make people care about your shit. You’d be nothing without me.”
“So you steal from me? Make that make sense.”
“I had to.” He scratched his neck and for the first time I wondered if it was something more than panic riding him. “If I didn’t sign another author Marco was going to terminate me.”
I lifted my chin. “I thought you were the one who made me who I am.”
Chris’s gaze wouldn’t meet mine. “I told you making an author was near impossible. All these self-starters now. They think they can do it all without an agent. Stupid. But Lana was perfect.” His eyes were glassy now. “Gorgeous and made for the camera. Perfect for marketing, just dim.”
“You’re a pig.” Phoebe said from behind me.
“Who the fuck are you?” Chris got brave and advanced on me.
Mouse was having none of it. He growled, dropping his head in an attack state.
“Mouse,” I said firmly. He grumbled, but stayed put.
“They’re both mine. People who actually care about me.”
“I made you,” he whispered furiously. “If you’d just do me this solid we can get back to making money together. It’s been you and me against the world for twelve years. It’s just one small mistake. You understand.”
“I really don’t. And if you were in trouble if you came to me, I would have tried to help.”
“And do what?”
“I could have floated you money to cover—”
“There’s not enough money for that. The deal I made for Lana barely covered a quarter of my debts. And now you want to try and cancel this contract? The biggest deal of both of our careers.”
The rock in the center of my chest suddenly lifted. “You’re not here for our friendship. You’re just afraid I’ll cut you out.”
“I’ll fight you. I was the agent on this deal. The contract is iron clad, even if you turn in a different book. I still get the agent fees.”
My blood went cold. “Was this the plan all along?”
A flicker of the usual Christopher came through.
The cocksure, smug smile bending his lips.
And for the first time I noticed it never reached his eyes.
“I told you living an analog life would catch up with you. You made it almost too easy. The blackboards and living in your head—there was no trace of how you wrote the book. I made sure Lana has a digital footprint for every word. Hell, I even made her re-type the book so she knew every line.” He coasted his finger over the fin of his Porsche.
“She thinks if she studies your books, she’ll find a clue on how to write.
That the next one will be easy. She’s an idiot, but she’s a moldable one. ”
I let him talk.
Each confession shore up my own court case. I couldn’t record this, but he had no idea I had a copy of the original document.
“So you should just take the L, Dutch. Make it easy on both of us. You don’t want to wrap this up in courts for years do you?
” His ego firmly back in place, he walked onto the grass.
“I heard your new book is decent. With Monte’s help you’ll be just fine for the preorder launch.
Again, your secrecy works in my favor. No one will ever know about Lana’s book. ”
“My fucking book,” I snarled and swung on him. My height and wingspan working in my favor as his head snapped back and he hit the ground.
“Dutch!” Phoebe ran down the hill to me, her fingers wrapped around my wrist. “Don’t.”
Chris looked up at me, blood on his teeth as he smiled. “There’s some fire under there after all.” He wiggled his jaw.
“Hundreds of hours of my life,” I shouted down at him as my fingers throbbed.
Mouse inched down beside me, his growls increasing.
“Keep going. An assault suit will cover me for a few months.” He thumbed away the blood on his lip.
“You’ll never get another dime from me even if I have to spend all of my money in court. Get the hell off my property.”
He rolled to his knees and staggered up. “You’ll come around. You always do.”
“Not this time.” I wrapped my fingers around Phoebe’s and pulled her in close. “I have people around me who actually care about me, not about what I can do for them.”
Chris flicked his eyes over Phoebe. “Country bumpkin? I guess she probably knows how to keep you warm anyway.”
I lunged for him and Mouse followed suit, his bark menacing.
Phoebe hauled me back. “No. It’s not worth it.” She lowered her voice. “He’ll get his. I promise.”
Chris sprinted back to his car, gravel spitting as he bottomed out his sports car before fishtailing toward the main road.
She spun me around and wrapped her arms around me. “I’m so proud of you.”
I cupped the back of her head, holding her against my chest. Her heart was racing against mine—or maybe it was just mine. I wasn’t sure. “I can’t believe he showed his face.”
“He’s scared.” She looked up at me. “Couldn’t you feel the desperation? God, what a weasel.”
I laughed. Shocked that any amount of happiness could live inside of me after seeing him. But having Phoebe in my corner showed just what a weak, pathetic shitbag he was. I tangled my fingers into her waves. “I’m not sure I could have faced him if you weren’t here.”
“You would have.”
“Well, maybe I should edit that statement.”
She snorted and rolled her eyes.
“I might have dragged him into that lake and drowned him.”
“You can kill him in your book.”
“Diabolical. Maybe I’m rubbing off on you.”
She walked her fingers up my chest. “Just maybe.” She went on her toes and I lowered my mouth to meet hers. As always, her touch grounded me. Bringing me into the here and now. She sighed as our lips parted. “Maybe we should skip my brother’s party.”
“With all that baking you did? Absolutely not.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m not letting Christopher take anything else from me. Period.”
“I’ll remind you of that when you’re surrounded by a bunch of hockey players talking about their best shots.”
“Worth it.” I lifted her off her feet. “Maybe we could be a little late?”
She wrapped her legs around my waist. “Fashionably late definitely works for me.”