Page 7 of Her Reclusive Beast

He’s no longer on top of me, so I scoot backwards until I can sit upright without bumping his tense jaw.

“What the fuck did you do, Jenna?” he rasps, making my insides quiver.

“I came to check on you,” I respond quietly and without apology.

He sits up and turns his back to me, bowing his head into his hands. “Or you did exactly what your boss told you to do.”

The accusation hangs awkwardly in the air between us. I’m baffled and also strangely hurt. He was the one holding me captive through the night. All I did was open a locked door. I close my eyes and will the impeding tears away. They won’t help anything. And with my luck, Max will accuse me of using them to win him over. To what end, I’m still not sure.

“I’m confused,” I finally admit into the silence.

Max groans. Eventually, he answers me with, “I’m aware of that. Just how innocent are you, Jenna?” He stands and walks towards the bathroom without ever turning his head, so I’m guessing he’s not truly expecting an answer.

When he shuts the door, I bolt. Racing down the stairs and back to my own little room. I feel slightly better when I’m showered and dressed. But not enough to face Max over breakfast coffee. And I still haven’t decided what to do about Diana. Her presence here seems to be growing larger with time, not diminishing with distance.

I mentally turn over and examine all my options as I head to Max’s office. I’ll get breakfast when I’m sure he’s out of the way, which will hopefully give him enough time to calm down. I can return to New York and face Diana’s manipulations directly over either winning Max back or ‘placating’ other male authors. Although why I’m specifying gender I’m not sure — I have a feeling Diana goes with whatever she thinks will work. And I’m not so naïve to think that every author out there has Max’s scruples when it comes to these things.

Fingering the spot on my neck he nuzzled throughout the night, I know he’s the only man I’m interested in pursuing that with. Too bad he’s already decided otherwise, but I don’t suppose I can blame him, really.

Or has he?The thought flits through my brain as I settle down in front of the computer. He’s questioned my loyalty, my interest in remaining here, but offered nothing. Is he waiting for me to do or say something?

I quiver with anxiety. I don’t have a car, so a job out here is frankly impractical. But I do have a cat back in New York that I can’t abandon.

Instead of editing like I should be, I pull a legal pad closer to me and begin to write down all the impediments and questions swirling in my brain.

I need my things (and my cat!) in New York

I need a job

If the job requires transportation, I need that too

I need a place to live if I’m not staying in New York

— which I can’t if I quit because Diana will see to it that anyone hiring me in publishing will put that someone on her shit list.

That’s really it. I can’t think of anything else that counts as a necessity. Righteous indignation fills me as I stride towards the kitchen, somehow knowing that Max is there glowering.

Well, okay, he’s staring out the kitchen window where the wind is blowing the fallen leaves in all directions, but his facial muscles tense when he turns and sees me. I push the paper against his chest before turning to the coffeepot. “Here. If you’ve got nothing better to do, solve this. I don’t know what you want from me besides editing, if anything, but these are my problems and, quite frankly, they’re more important to me than yours at the moment.”

His gorgeous lips quirk slightly, but he doesn’t say anything before glancing down at my list. His eyebrows wing up. “This is it? Everything? Then why haven’t you quit already?”

I roll my eyes as I slide bread into the toaster. “Some of us aren’t made of money, Mr. Famous Author. If I quit now, Diana won’t pay for my return trip to New York.”

Max appears almost startled. “And if your cat and belongings were to come here…”

I shrug as I butter my toast. “Then I still need to solve the job and transportation problem.”

He nods absently. “Finish editing. I’ll have your things, including your cat, here by the end of the week.”

It’s my turn to be surprised. “Okaaay, but… if I’m not there to point and box things up…”

He shakes his head slightly. “I have a very resourceful friend. If by chance he brings an erroneous item, I will simply have him return it and vice versa.”

I blink. That must be some friend or he really owes Max big. “About the glowing blue thing,” I start, but then hesitate.

Max sighs impatiently. “Finish the manuscript, Jenna. Then I will answer your questions.”

“Promise?” I sound like a love-sick little girl.

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