Page 51 of The CEO I Hate

“Yeah, that started a whole flame war in the comments,” I muttered. I’d had to turn the commenting off for a while until things died down. That story thread had been inspired by my most recent ex, who’d been jealous of my success whenHeart and Hustlestarted to take off.

This was exactly why writers should not date other writers. He’d used fake accounts to post shitty things in the comments about me and my writing. The moron had actually stayed logged in on his home computer under his sock-puppet alias, which was how I found out. Needless to say, the breakup had happened swiftly.

“Yeah, well, PuppetMaster3000 was obviously never held as a child and needed attention,” Liam muttered. “He also never learned how to spell. And don’t even try to tell me I should be nicer because he might be just a kid. I’m convinced he’s a middle-aged man messaging from his mother’s basement because he keeps using the word radical like it’s still the eighties.”

I opened my mouth, unsure of what to say. I’d never told Jake that the asshole in the comments was my ex Keith because I was embarrassed,and he already hated all my boyfriends on principle.

I didn’t need to prove him right.Again. But if Jake didn’t know about what Keith had done, he couldn’t have told Liam. From the way Liam was talking now…hemust have been one of the other aliases trying to defend me in the comments.

“Wait…Are you PulpFrustration?”

“What? No,” Liam sneered, denying it so hard it was completely obvious he was lying. “What are you talking about?”

“Youare!” I insisted. “You were arguing with PuppetMaster3000.”

“So?” he said.

My jaw dropped. PulpFrustration was one of my favorite commenters! I’d had no idea it was him. “Liam, I?—”

“What?” he huffed like it was no big deal, even if it was a very big deal to me. “You need a few regular folks in the comments section to balance out all the idiots.”

“Well, most of themareteenagers, I suspect.”

“Except for morons like PuppetMaster3000, who don’t have the brains to recognize talent,” he growled.

“Wish my parents had felt that way,” I said as we walked through the convention together. “They always thought art was a waste of time. I had to use my babysitting money to buy drawing supplies and then try to find enough time after the kids had gone to sleep to get in some practice. If I practiced at home, I’d have to hide somewhere, because if my parents caught me, they’d tell me off for not doing something ‘useful.’”

Liam shook his head. “Who doesn’t buy their kid drawing supplies?”

“I don’t know, they just always wanted Jake and me to focus on more practical extracurriculars. You know, things that would look good on a college application one day. Sports, mostly. They were always goingon about how Jake found basketball, and I needed to find something like that. Problem was, I already had mything. It just wasn’t a thing they approved of.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous, because you’re so talented. And you and sports?” Liam said, wrinkling his nose. “Bad combo.”

“Hey!” I said, laughing. “I gave volleyball a very solid try.”

“And how’d that work out for you?”

“Broke two of my fingers, remember? Thankfully, only on my left hand though, so I could still draw.”

“Maybe you should have invited your parents down here to see all your insane fangirls,” he suggested. “If they could see how deeply your fans respond to your work, maybe they’d understand it more.”

I snorted. “They’d never show up at something like this.”

“Then they’re missing out,” Liam growled, his words so sincere they made my chest ache. “Despite the fact that I’ve been mauled by a horde of teenage zombies, your fans clearly love your writing and the story you’re putting into the world. You’re having a real impact on their lives, and I think that’s the mark of a great artist.”

It was hard to swallow as I blinked back tears. Had Liam Lockhart just given me the best compliment I’d ever received? My lips puckered into a smile. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with the real Liam?”

“The real Liam?” he said, rolling his eyes at me. “C’mon, Gretel. Keep up or you’ll get lost.”

“That’s more like it,” I said. “Scared me for a second there. I thought the fans had rattled you around so much that you’d developed a new trauma personality.”

Liam scowled at me, and for once, it was comforting. “Remind me never to sign up to be mauled by blubbering teenage fangirls again.”

“You loved every second of it, and you know it,” I said as we walked past an artist’s booth filled with illustrations of cats. There were Harry Potter cats andLord of the Ringscats and anime cats and an entire row of grumpy cats.

One of the grumpy cats was sporting a gray business suit. “Oh my God!” I backpedaled over to the booth. “It’s you!” I picked up the illustration and practically shoved it in Liam’s face. “Look!”

He grimaced, his entire face crinkling as he took in the adorable tabby cat with its heart-shaped nose, little blue tie, and ferocious scowl. “That isnotme.”

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