Page 81 of Our Little Cliche
Me:
This is what you do to me. You cause the colour of these cheeks.
Cyrus Stone aka Sexy Boss:
And you should see what you’ve done to me.
Chapter Forty-Two
HOLLY
Incredibly flustered,I stow my phone before things get worse, and opt to check out the other authors. I’ve got to get through tonight yet. Ugh, how? How, when I can barely handle a few text messages?
I meet anew to meauthor, telling her that I’ll come back to grab a copy of her small town romance. Some other writers I add to myto be readcollection. I wish I had enough money to buy everyone’s books, but I don’t. I don’t even have my bookshelves yet which are in a shipping container somewhere on their way to me with the rest of my furniture. Truth be known, I’d rather own more books than furniture anyway…
Wait, I do own more books than furniture—I don’t have any furniture.
Right, next week once the New Year insanity is over I need to contact that fucker with the beer gut and his greasy fucker minion and ask where my stuff is because they haven’t responded to any of my emails yet.
It’s probably a scam. You probably have no furniture now, my intrusive thoughts crawl under my skin. Imagine if I lost everything. Imagine if I had to start all over. A tear patronizesme but doesn’t fall.No. No way. I am not getting all emotional right now.
It’s been at least ten minutes window shopping pretty books from hundreds of authors and clearing my head so I check our table, spotting a journalist with Quinn and Cyrus. I keep away, strolling down the next row of writers and my eyes freeze instantly toher.
Izzy Wentworth.
Heart pounding, breath halted, and legs paralyzed, I watch as she swishes her red tendrils behind her back, signing a book for a reader with what looks to be a glass calligraphy pen.
She is absolutely stunning. Her eyelids are coated in a metallic shimmer, matching a similar gleam over her fair skin. Her black dress is fixed so tight around her waist that her bust spills out from the top. She catches wind of me staring and winks as if she knows who I am, then a lump the size of a golf ball lodges in my throat.
Am I… am I crushing on Izzy Wentworth right now?
I am totally crushing on Izzy Wentworth.
I glance back at Cyrus, only barely able to see the top of his head from this angle.He won’t mind me gone for a moment longer, I coax myself, queuing in line for her behind the four other people. “Izzy, oh my gosh. It’s an honor.” I shake her hand, blushing like a school kid.
“The pleasure is finally all mine.”Finally?“Am I detecting an accent?” she adds.
I chuckle nervously. “Yeah. I’m from Australia,”
“A long way from home. So what brings you all the way up here, then…?” She pauses, waiting for me to fill in my name.
“Holly. And it’s a long story, maybeIcould write a novel.” I laugh. “Nah, I’m working for?—
“C.M Stone,” she says in a seductive, playful tone, dancing her brows.
“Yeah… how did you know?”
“Aside from the fact that he mentioned you were coming, he’s barely taken his eyes from you all day.”
Oh, god. We’ve blown it. We’re done for.
Wait, he told her I was coming here?
“Oh, yeah nah… I uhh… H-he…” I stutter.What do I even say back to that?If she’s noticed something then obviously I’m not doing a very good job keeping this a secret, and neither is he. She cackles and I know she can see right through me.
“Oh, gorgeous girl, I’ve been writing romance books for more than fifteen years.”Yeah, I know. I’ve read and own them all, plus I’ve had plane sex thanks to one of your books.“Thatlookonly comes once in a lifetime, Holly.”
I say nothing, my body’s only reaction is to swallow. God damn.I am so in love.And you can’t hidelove. She smiles, then peers over her shoulder to her personal assistant—who I didn’t even notice until now—and gestures something I can’t make sense of. The girl bends down, reaching for something under the table.
