Page 5 of Accidentally Yours
Chapter Three
“What?No!”Paigeyelpedinto the phone. “He said what?!” She grabbed the edge of the table and stood from her chair. Half of the rooftop bar looked at her, as though she might spill juicy gossip, but Paige only cared about what Kaylor had just told her.
“Ethan said you’ll write the book together,” Kaylor repeated, in a tone that screamedWhat is your problem?“You’re acting like this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, but it’s actually brilliant. You should be thanking me.”
Paige sat back down with a thud, her chair scraping against the floor. She barely noticed. Her brain was too busy short-circuiting. “Thanking you? For what? For letting Ethan hijack my book?”
“Paige, come on,” Kaylor said, like she was placating a child. “You wanted a book deal and media buzz. This is it. Ethan’s last book was a bestseller. His fans will eat this up, and so will yours. Do you have any idea what the sales numbers will look like if the two of you team up? This will be a major win for us both.”
“I never agreed to this,” Paige said through an exhale. Not sure what Ethan was up to, she gripped the edge of the table so hard her knuckles turned white. “I don’t care how many copies it might sell. I’m not letting Ethan Cole—Mr. I Got a Book Deal Because I Was a Reality Show Star—turn my book into some ego-fueled circus and dictate the next step in my career.”
“Well, it’s too late for that now,” Kaylor said flatly. “Look, Paige, I get it. I really do. You want to write the book yourself, just the way you want to tell the story. But the higher-ups love this. Ethan’s already cleared his schedule, and they expect you two to deliver a draft by the end of the summer. This is non-negotiable. And it allows you to keep your advance.”
Paige opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out. Her pulse was pounding too loudly in her ears for her brain to come up with another reason why she couldn’t do what they were asking.
“Paige, I’m on your side,” Kaylor added, softening. “But the reality is, Ethan brings clout, and Windy City Press thinks this is a great idea. And you need a win. Just think of it like a marketing goldmine, okay? Write it together, make it good, and once it’s a hit, you can write whatever you want.”
“I, I—” Paige muttered, having so much to say but not being able to get any of it out.
“Glad we’re on the same page,” Kaylor said cheerily. “Gotta run. I’ll email you the contract. Call me when you sign it. Byeee!”
The line went dead before Paige could respond. She peeled the phone from her ear and glared at it, resisting the urge to chuck it across the bar or over the guardrail and down to the street below. Instead, she put it on the table and ran her hands over her face with a groan. Her attention only yo-yoed back to reality when a server placed a fresh lemonade on the table.
“Your date’s still not here?” the server asked with a polite smile, gesturing to the empty seat across from Paige.
“Uh, no,” Paige replied, her mind twirling. She’d nearly forgotten she was waiting for her blind date to show up. A glance at her phone didn’t show any new messages. “He should be here soon.” Though, at this point, Paige really didn’t care if her date showed up or not.
“Okay, I’ll stop back in a few minutes.” The server bounced to the next table and Paige took a sip of her lemonade, hoping it would cool the fire blazing in her chest. After a few swallows, she decided she needed to leave. She was in no state for idle chitchat. Besides, her date was twenty-five minutes late. She needed to get home, vent to her girlfriends, and figure out this absolutely bonkers mess. Just as she grabbed her purse and pulled out cash to leave on the table, a maddeningly familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Leaving so soon?”
Her head shot up, and there he was. Ethan Cole. Too tall, too handsome, and way too smug for his own good. He was a walking, talking red flag wrapped in a leather jacket. Which, by the way, was a crazy fashion choice for warm summer weather.
Paige’s stomach clenched with the one-two punch of shock and anger.
“I just got here.” He slid into the chair across from her and stared at her—she assumed—because she could only see her irate reflection in his shiny aviators.
Paige blinked, her brain racing. “Are you stalking me?”
He was at the museum yesterday, had the gall to tell their publisher they’d write her book together, and now he shows up at the same bar she’s at? What was this guy up to? But before she could unpack each weird coincidence, a horrible realization struck her like a bolt of lightning.
“Wait,” she said slowly, pointing a finger at him. “You’re not—”
Ethan raised an eyebrow, his expression all faux innocence. He leaned back casually, one arm draping over the armrest. “Not what?”
Was he her blind date?!
Her stomach sank as the possibility hit her, and the first word that tumbled out of her mouth was, “Pineapple!”
Ethan cocked his head at her, clearly thrown off. “Pineapple?”
“Pineapple,” she shot at him again. This time he looked over his shoulder and above him, like she’d shoutedFore!and there was a large, prickly fruit about to drop from the sky. When all he discovered were funny looks from the other tables, he turned back to Paige.
“Are you talking to me?” He jabbed a thumb at his chest.
Paige nodded, before leaning forward and whispering, “Pineapple,” like a threat.
“Are you okay?”
