13. Trina
TRINA
I’m barely through Casey’s office door when I attack him with the question that’s been plaguing me the entire way over here.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Starlight?”
And it wasn’t just on the way over here that my hyperfixation started.
No, it began almost immediately after Isabella told me about his promotion.
It took over almost everything in my brain, punctuated only by texts and phone calls from my aunt that I keep replying to with evasive answers that only make her more persistent.
I tried not to be hurt. I really did. I’m not even really sure why I’m so upset about it. We used to be friends, but we haven’t talked in over a year. Even then, he doesn’t owe me personal information. He doesn’t even owe me work information. Not since I stopped pitching him titles.
But he showed up at my hotel room ready to eat, and I can’t shake the feeling that I deserved to know about this huge new thing in his career. He certainly had ample opportunity to tell me about it after we fucked.
Casey studies me from his side of the desk.
I hate the power dynamics at play here. Usually when we meet, he makes a point to come out from behind his desk and sit at the small table in the corner of his office.
I can’t help but wonder if his choice to stay seated was a result of my impatient question or a way to exert some power over me for whatever reason he asked me to meet in the first place.
Maybe he’ll get up now that I’m fully in the room with the door closed behind me.
“Why don’t you have a seat, Trina?” He waves at one of the chairs facing his desk.
Definitely a power move, then.
The image of him standing behind me—gripping the flesh of my hips, leaving handprints on my skin—flashes through my mind.
He had all the power then, and I let him.
And I liked it. I always like it when he takes control of me like that.
He clears my mind, whether he knows that’s what he’s doing or not.
I’d love my mind to be clear right now. My problem has always been that once I start obsessing over something, it’s hard for me to dig my way back out. And I’ve certainly been obsessing over Casey and his new job.
Taking a deep breath in through my nose as he watches me, I let it out slowly and drop into the chair.
Casey’s gaze follows me, that intensity radiating off of him.
By the way his dark eyes are burning through me, it almost feels like he’s turned on.
But that can’t be. We’re at work. And he hid this from me, as if all I am is his fuck buddy when it’s convenient for him.
I have to maintain some kind of upper hand in this. My grasp on reality is slowly slipping.
“Tell me about the job,” I demand, though my tone remains gentle—curious, almost.
Casey purses his lips together and leans back in his chair. “JMP acquired Starlight as a young adult imprint. They merged with Anastasios, and he selected me to run it.”
“And you accepted.”
He nods once. “There aren’t many opportunities like this for a man like me,” he says. “Especially one who wants to stay in Chicago.”
“A man like you…” I trail off, frowning.
“A Black man, Trina,” he says softly. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but publishing isn’t the most diverse industry.”
“What are your dreams?” he asks, tracing a circle around my belly button. “What do you want for your life?”
“I’m living the dream,” I evade.
Casey rolls so he’s hovering over me, bringing his hand up to brush over my lips. My tongue darts out to lick one of his fingers, and he moans quietly.
“I’m serious,” he half-scolds.
“I am too,” I say on a laugh. “I love my job. Don’t you?”
His hand drops lower, closing lightly around my throat as he holds my chin where he wants it. He leans in for a kiss. “Yes.” Another kiss. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want more.” A kiss again. “A publisher, maybe.” Kiss. “Or CEO.” Kiss. “But I’d never leave Chicago.” Kiss, kiss, kiss.
“Would you settle for being an excellent lover?” I tease, my own hand drifting lower, circling his growing hardness.
He eyes me carefully, his hand around my neck squeezing, pushing my chin up so I have no choice but to meet his eyes.
“For now,” he says before his kisses turn more passionate again.
I blink rapidly, trying not to be too thrown off by the intrusive memory. “They couldn’t have found a better man for the job.” My voice is almost a whisper.
Casey’s expression softens and his body sags a fraction, as if some great tension had been snipped just enough to let him relax a bit. “Thank you,” he says quietly.
“I wish you had told me.”
At that, he straightens again. “When was I supposed to tell you, Trina?” His voice is as soft as it has been, but there’s a slight edge to it.
It’s a good question. I don’t know that there would have been a great time to bring it up, and it isn’t something you just declare out of the blue. Aside from the fact that, if I ever read through all of my emails, I’d have known already. I should have.
But he turns his gaze out his office window and rubs a hand over his hair. It’s the only sign that he’s uncomfortable with this line of questioning, and it makes me think he feels bad about not keeping me in the loop.
“Truth be told, I’ve been feeling a little out of my league,” he says to the wall.
He won’t look at me, and dammit, that hurts even more.
“Suddenly, I have a whole team to run. People who are depending on me to turn this imprint around. Decisions to make that I can’t defer to anyone else.
They’re deferring to me.” He glances at me, then back out the window.
“I’m not always sure they picked the right guy for this.
And when I was with you…” He swallows hard, then drags his gaze to meet mine.
“I felt normal. Lighter. It was nice to forget about the pressure and clear my head. You know?”
That is a sentiment I know all too well. Isn’t that exactly what I was doing with him, too? What had I hoped to do again as soon as I landed in Chicago? I can’t stay mad at him for wanting exactly what I want, and for honoring our deal and the rules we set for ourselves over a year ago.
I can be irritated, but I can’t be mad.
“I get it,” is all I’m willing to offer him.
He smiles softly, his gaze dipping to my lips then back again.
My tongue darts out to wet them. “But there’s no one else who is as qualified or deserving as you for this position, Casey.
I’ve worked with a lot of editors, and you were always one of my favorites. ”
His smile widens into a grin, and just like that, the pressure in the room is lifted. “You liked working with me so much, you ghosted me for a whole year.”
Running a hand through my hair, I sit back in my chair and cross one leg over the other, letting the blue fabric of my skirt settle nicely over my thighs. “I didn’t have anything I thought you’d like.”
“Bullshit,” he says, but he’s still smiling.
I shrug. “I’m guessing based on your insistence I come here that it wasn’t just to see my beautiful face.”
“It wasn’t not to see your beautiful face.” The words leave his mouth so easily, and they slide over my body leaving goosebumps in their wake. I blink rapidly and shiver. He doesn’t miss it, and that smile of his turns devilish.
“But there was another reason?” I ask, and I’m surprised how meek I sound.
“There was.” He straightens himself again, leaning forward on his elbows. Which is unfortunate for me because his shirtsleeves are rolled up, and I can’t avoid looking at his delicious forearms.
“Out with it, Endersen,” I say tersely. He’s going to need to spit it out soon or I’m going to go back on what I said before and jump him right here in his office.
As if he can read my mind, he chuckles. “I met an author whose book I’d like to make an offer on, but she’s unrepresented.
I want you to sign her. She would have our lead title this season, and I think her book has the potential to be a bestseller.
You’re the best in the business when it comes to protecting the interests of new writers on their way to fame. ”
I give him a fake giggle and press my hand to my cheek. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”
This is something I can do. We’re on much more familiar ground now—this push and pull of words is effortless. Much better than these feelings that keep creeping up out of nowhere.
“You’re too easy.” He taps his fingers on the top of his desk, frowning as his gaze follows the motion.
“Did you want me to put up more of a fight?”
He glances up at me. “Not on this one. Imani is—”
My eyes go wide. “Imani Adrian?”
Casey tilts his head, his frown deepening. “You know her?”
“Not exactly…” I start slowly. This is too much of a weird coincidence, and it makes me cautious. “She approached me at Writers and Agents.”
Casey’s chair squeaks as he shifts in his seat, his only tell that he’s excited. “She approached me, too. I read her manuscript twice, and it’s brilliant.”
“Mm-hmm.” I nod.
His head flinches back slightly, but then a wide grin stretches across his lips. “Did she query you? If so, that’s perfect, actually. Though I’m surprised, since you don’t rep YA—”
I hold up a hand, palm out to stop him. “Whoa. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this interested.”
“Not never.” He ticks a suggestive eyebrow up, and god dammit, I can’t help the blush that creeps up my cheeks. “But this is great. If she talked to you too, then she wants to work with you.”
“Eh.” I make a non-committal noise and wince. “She did.”
“What do you mean, ‘did’?”
“I don’t want to throw a bucket of cold water on this for you, but she sent a query before the conference and couldn’t sign up for one of my pitch sessions, so she stopped me after my panel.
I told her I didn’t have any connections in YA, and that I’d look over her query to give her some feedback.
Maybe hook her up with one of the other agents who could better represent her. ”
“But you do have connections in YA. Now, at least.”