“That’s not what the publisher wants.”

“I know. But thanks to Connor and ten years of busting my ass, it doesn’t matter.”

“Don’t you want to keep writing?”

“Yes, but not at the price of my sanity. Not anymore.”

“Is it so bad?”

“You know it is.” I blow out a long breath. “Are you ever going to tell me what he did?”

She starts walking again, looking straight ahead. “He just… He was being difficult. Complaining about the size of his hotel room, and that he didn’t get turn-down service. Stupid things.”

“You want me to talk to him?”

“No, I…” Harper hugs herself even though it’s not cold. “Doesn’t the idea of doing this scare you? He’s dangerous, El.”

“He’s a petulant man-baby who’s had his way for far too long.”

“But he did some crooked things before you met him.”

“And since then, too. So much so that he thinks it’s worth killing over. But what are you saying? You think if I kill off Book Connor, he’s going to hurt me?”

“He might.”

“Harper, no. He’ll pout and he’ll threaten, but that’s it. This book is the last on my contract, and he can’t force me to write another. He’ll realize that eventually, and then he’ll be out of our lives for good.”

We arrive at the entrance to the restaurant.

“And you’re truly not concerned about the consequences?”

“I worry about everything. But if you had to lay a bet on who’d end up dead at the end of this, your money should be on Connor.”

“Should I be worried?” Connor says behind us, making me jump in my Jimmy Choos.

“Connor! You scared me.” My heart is beating at a frantic pace, pushing hard against my rib cage.

“My apologies.” He’s wearing a perfectly cut black suit with a light blue tie that matches his eyes. He looks like he stepped out of a magazine shoot, and—

Wait. Stop. No.

Your heart’s racing out of fear, you moron, because he startled you. You do not have unresolved feelings for Connor.

“How long were you behind us?” I ask, trying to steady my voice.

Connor gives me a deep stare. I feel like I’m being x-rayed with his eyes.

Can he tell that I put on my sexy underwear?

Not for him, obviously. And not for Oliver either, though a girl can dream.

“Why? Did you say something you didn’t want me to hear?”

“I don’t have anything to hide from you.”

“Oh?”

I pull in a deep breath. “Can we not? Please?”