Page 47 of Property of Fox

“No pictures,” I demand, but she ignores it. She shifts the angle before her finger goes for the button at the bottom of herphone. I snap before she reaches it. “I said no fucking pictures, lady.”

Her smile falters for a second, surprise flickering in her eyes, but then she shoves the phone in my face instead. “But you’re Ares! The Ares! From Eden’s book! Everyone’s talking about you!” My stomach recoils at that name.

I catch sight of Eden across the lobby. She’s surrounded by a few fans, laughing and posing like she didn’t shove a grenade into my life yesterday with that fucking kiss. The rush of their excitement intensifies the knot in my stomach. I can’t escape this circus. I’m trapped, and she’s got the detonator.

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to be part of your fanfare,” I grunt, trying to sidestep the crowd.

One of them grabs my arm, her grip surprisingly strong. “Come on, please!”

Another voice pipes up from behind me. “Tell us about the motorcycle club! Is it true you guys have crazy initiation rituals?”

Her readers' questions are swirling around me like angry bees. The reader with the camera phone tries to snap her photo again. Clearly allowing my request to fall over deaf ears. My hand moves before my brain registers what I am about to do. With a quick movement, I grab her phone and toss it across the lobby. It skids on the opulent marble floor underneath a couch. The room falls silent. Eyes widen, and mouths drop as every fan process what I just did. I can feel the tide of anger from the crowd shifting toward me.

Eden arrives just in time to witness my moment of insanity. Her rainbow hair bounces with her hurried steps, the perfectly curated image of a bestselling author crumbling like dry leaves underfoot as she takes in the scene before her. “Ares! What?—”

“Your fans don’t listen, Eden,” I cut her off. “I told her no pictures.”

“Hey!” The woman whose phone I launched crosses her arms defiantly, her friends behind her whispering and glancing between us like it’s a tennis match.

Eden holds up her hands, a soothing smile plastered on her face that doesn't quite reach her eyes. “Okay, everyone, we’re just going to take a moment here.” She turns sharply to me, the smile faltering slightly as concern flashes across her features. “Let’s take a walk, shall we?”

Eden brushes past me, heading towards the hallway outside the ballroom we were in yesterday for the signing. It’s all but abandoned now except for a smattering of workers clearing away the tables from the space.

“What is your problem? Why did you do that?” she seethes.

“You said no pictures. I told her twice, and she wouldn’t fucking listen, so I solved the problem.”

“You didn’t have to throw her phone.”

“No?” I sneer back, stepping closer now that the audience seems more curious than hostile. “The very detailed contract that your publisher had me sign said in black and white, no pictures. I had every right to protect myself and the club from my face going viral on social media.”

“You could have handled that a better way.”

“Better? Like what, stand here and let them drool all over me to sell a few more of your books?”

“That’s unfair,” she fires back. “You signed on for this. Speaking of which, where the hell were you this morning? You were supposed to be at the brunch session with me. I tried to text you.”

“I was busy.” I try to walk away, but Eden shifts to step in front of me, blocking my exit.

“Busy? You’re getting paid to do a job this weekend. I expected you to fulfill all of your obligations. First, the afterparty, now brunch. That’s half the events you were required to attend.”

“Take it out of my pay, Eden. I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

“This isn’t about the reader trying to take your picture at all, is it?” She circles around me. “Who were you with last night?” she asks, her voice low and accusatory.

“Cut the shit, Eden. You expect me to believe that Hallie didn’t tell you.”

“Fine,” she answers, throwing her hands in the air. “Hallie told me as soon as she returned from helping you take a stranger to our hotel room. I know you’ve been following the girl like a lost puppy.”

“Is that why you kissed me? Was this weekend some ploy to get me back in your bed?”

“God, no. That kiss was to sell the story. I told you back in Indiana. The only thing I want from you is a story to sell my books. That’s it.”

“Yeah, well, that kiss just ruined my chance with Brea, Eden. Her best friend was in your line yesterday when you did that. She even recorded a video of it. So thanks for that.”

“I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“Well, it did,” I snarl through gritted teeth. “This fucking arrangement of ours, it’s done. Over. No more Ares. No more playing happy family. Your publisher can shove the money up their asses for all I care. I’m fucking done.”

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