Page 89 of Our Little Cliche
You cheeky little brat.
“Yes, Miss Cate.”God, I wish I was saying angel. My precious angel.“I’m fine. Just went down the wrong hole.”
“You know, for someone who writes books for a liv?—”
“Miss Cate,” Quinn cuts her off, again, completely unaware that someone was speaking. “Did you get my last email?”
Really? Here? Now?
Holly’s eyes instantly lose the shine, turning her attention to Quinn. “About the signing in February?”
“Yes, the Valentine’s Day one.”
A signing?
Valentine’s Day?
On the most important day of the year, other thanApril fourteen—her birthday—andI can’t touch her? No.We’re not going.
“I did. I thought I responded, I’m sorry. I booked a few rooms, including your wife, too.”
“Don’t be sorry, Cyrus has been keeping you busy with this book. It’s done so that’s all that matters. Thank you, Miss Cate.”
…Yeah. I’ve been keeping her busy alright.
“Please, call me Holly.”
“A Valentine’s Day signing?” I ask Quinn rather than Holly to keep the suspicions at bay. I don’t remember her telling me about it, unless I’ve forgotten.
“Yes, I spoke to Holly about it a while back.”
“I’m sorry I must have slipped telling you. I’ve been to a few back in Aus, so I made the suggestion to Quinn. They usually do pretty well because everyone is swooning, and feeling quite nice, and gooey.” She laughs, her grin wrinkling her eyes.Jesus shelooks good when she smiles like that.“I know I’ve spent a fair bit at them on V Day.”
“Valentine’s Day,” I repeat, my voice low and unintentionally defeated. I don’t want to go to that book signing. I have better plans for us. I wanted to finally take her to the Northern Lights, and spend the evening with her wrapped up in my arms. “Sounds… perfect,” I add.
“Good, then,” Quinn says. “Better take a seat, dinner shan’t be far off.”
Holly nods, returning to her original seat with her name on it, and I blow out a heap of air from my lungs. While he yarns to the waiter, I pick up my phone from under the table and pocket it.
Thank fuck that’s over.
What a conundrum.
Chapter Forty-Six
HOLLY
One risqué text,a misconstrued choking episode, a six course meal, andfartoo many champagnes later, it’s safe to say that I am buzzed. Horny buzzed.
…Yeah.
That.
I can’t believe I sent that text, right under the noses of two members of Riverton House Publishing—without being noticed. Fuck, it was hot: defying the odds of getting caught sexting her boss. Clumsy Holly? Who? Where? Not here! I’m a skilled woman now, nothing can stop me—one who can type out a naughty message without looking at the same time as having a professional conversation about em dashes, without batting an eyelid.
Em dashes. Pfft.These new reports showing authors are being wrongly accused of using Artificial Intelligence in their writing if they use em dashes is quite frankly the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. I’ve been reading books since before I could walk, those little lines aren’t new! At least I know Cyrus doesn’t use AI… that plot is literallyus. Not a story generated by an emotionless eBrain.
Goddamn that book.
