CHAPTER 7
CHRIS
A week later …
I had every intention of being inside Ali again at our meeting last Friday. Maybe some part of me intended to try to rein myself in and keep my hands to myself. Then Ali showed up in a sexy black dress with a plunging neckline and any restraint vanished in a poof of smoke.
Shit. What was I thinking? I shouldn’t be banging our hottest new acquisition, but then at the same time, it was inevitable. A five-alarm fire wouldn’t have stopped me from touching those tempting curves, much less kissing her pretty little twat.
Suddenly, a knock sounds on my office door. “Come in,” I yell.
Jenny enters. She takes the seat across from me and hands me a few printed pages of editorial notes on Ali’s manuscript.
“Ali’s not here yet?”
I check my watch. “She’s got ten more minutes,” I say. Our meeting’s scheduled for 11:30.”
Editorial meetings are routine. Essentially, we’re meeting with an author to convey the improvements we’d like to see. We try to meet with our authors when they’re local because we find it easier to explain our concerns in person. Jenny sent Ali the notes on Tuesday, so she would be familiar with them for our meeting. Compared to our usual editorial letters, this one is pretty short, but we still want to go over everything with Ali.
Plus, I want to see the girl who has infiltrated my mind. I’ve had to resist the urge to text her every day. To invite her over for another round on my desk or office floor. Or ask her to have coffee with me, which would be a terrible idea. I don’t do dates, remember? I only do hot sex, and then goodbye.
“So, there’s really not much here,” Jenny says, breaking me out of my Ali daydreams and preventing my cock from stirring. I was dangerously close to another embarrassing situation. “This meeting shouldn’t last long.”
Someone knocks on the door, and I yell for them to come in. Ali shyly steps in, wearing a blue dress that hugs her incredible curves. The neckline isn’t as deep as the dress she wore last week, but the mounds of her breasts still peak out just enough to be incredibly enticing. I try to focus on something else, so I don’t have to excuse myself to the bathroom.
“Hi Ali,” Jenny says, pulling the young woman into a hug. They smile at each other, and Ali takes the seat next to Jenny. “Thanks for coming in. We like to go over our editorial letters in person with our clients if possible.”
Ali nods with understanding.
“What do you do for authors who don’t live in New York?”
“Skype or phone calls,” Jenny explains. “In person is always best, though. It makes for a better connection.”
Ali nods and smiles.
“Of course, I totally agree. It’s an honor to be here.”
Wow, courteous as well as classy. I smile at her in return.
“Carmichael Publishing is pleased to be working with you, Ms. Hartman,” I say. “But before we get started, why don’t we order some lunch? Have you eaten yet?”
Ali shakes her head. But Jenny busts in.
“That’s a terrific idea!” my assistant exclaims. “I have a few more meetings today I need to get to, but why don’t you two order? I’ll be out of here before it comes. Chris, you’ll be able to go into detail on the notes, right?”
I nod. “No problem. Why don’t you start with the basics and I’ll order food? What do you like, Ali?”
The pretty brunette blushes and smiles. “Just about anything. You go ahead and pick. I’ll eat what you choose.”
I pull a delivery menu from my drawer and step to the side to order. While I’m on the phone, Jenny and Ali talk quietly over the notes.
“The book is really good,” Jenny says. “There are just some elements we think could be stronger. One of the main things was to put more emotion into the less emotional scenes.”
My mind wanders to the points of Ali’s manuscript that made me cry the first time I read it. But there were a lot of moments that had potential but didn’t quite reach the same level, so I agree with Jenny’s assessment.
I hang up with the delivery guy and return to my seat. Jenny and Ali are already on the second page of the notes, but I know Jenny is only reviewing the major points.
“We think your main character needs a friend,” Jenny says. “She has her love interests and her family until they’re… well… you know, in trouble. But she needs someone else to lean on. She’s handling way too much on her own and we think adding in another character will help.”
Ali doesn’t look shocked. “I have a different version of the draft. It’s almost identical, but Sarah has a friend named Candace. My agent and I talked about this, and we thought the same thing. But we weren’t sure how publishers would feel.”
“We’d love to see the other version,” says Jenny, leaping at the opportunity. “Maybe just work the other changes into the other version and send it to us when it’s ready?”
“Sure,” Ali smiles. “I can do that.”
My assistant checks her watch and sighs. “Listen, I hate to leave so soon, but I need to meet with production about a new release in about five.”
I stand as Jenny gets up to leave. “Thanks so much. I’ll see you later. I’m sure I can take over for you from here on out,” is my droll comment.
She gives me a faux salute and hugs Ali. “You’ve got this, Ali. I’ll be looking forward to your revisions. Can you send them in a month?”
Ali nods. “Sure, no prob. I’ll send everything once it’s done.”
Jenny leaves just as our lunch arrives. She steals a fry from the tray and grins as she walks back into the main office.
I tip the delivery guy, take our food, and set it on the desk between us. “These are the best burgers in New York, I promise.”
“Looks amazing,” says Ali, eyeing the foil covers with appreciation. “Exactly what I like.”
Ali waits for me to pick up my hamburger before picking up her own. I like that she’s taking cues from me. We eat quietly for a few minutes, although with relish. My curvy girl isn’t afraid of a little red meat, and I appreciate her for that.
“So, how have you been?” I begin like nothing’s wrong.
“Good,” Ali says when she’s swallowed her bite. “How about you, Mr. Carmichael?”
I snort.
“Please, don’t call me that. I’m Chris,” I say with a grin. “But we’re busy. Real busy. We’re about to publish our new catalog so things are a little crazy. That’s why Jenny has so many meetings. I’ve got budget and other meetings for the rest of the day.”
“Don’t let me keep you,” she says worriedly.
I put my hand over hers. “I cleared out an hour and a half for our meeting, don’t worry.”
The gorgeous brunette smiles, and I fall even further for her, my heart flip-flopping wildly at the sight of those pouty lips. This girl does things to me no one else has ever done.
We stare into each other’s eyes for a beat longer than we should. I have meetings, and we really do need to talk about more specific edits to her manuscript. We can’t drop everything and have sex again. So with a Herculean effort, I pull myself back into business mode.
“Ms. Hartman,” I say, trying to be serious. “There were a few specific things we had in mind in the second half. This scene where Sarah sees her father for the first time, before she finds out he’s actually a horrible serial killer, the dialogue gets a bit tight. We want to loosen it up. Sarah was close to her father, even when she moved away, so their stiff back and forth doesn’t make sense.”
Ali scrunches her face. “I didn’t realize that. You’re right, though. It should be easy to talk to her father.”
We go through the rest of the pages and I tell her all the specific things to fix before we publish the book. She needs to adjust some of the character relationships and conversation especially. It shouldn’t take her more than a few hours to make the changes we want her to make, especially knowing she already has a version with the biggest edit we wanted.
But to her credit, Ali takes all the suggested changes with grace. She’s intuitive and intelligent, and is able to listen to criticism without getting defensive. I respect her for that, especially since we’ve had writers become screaming banshees we request even the smallest edit.
After going through the last page, I close the manuscript. We still have twenty minutes before I have to get to my budget meeting. It’s tempting to pull the shades down and bang her hard. But I don’t want that anymore. We’re past the point of quickies and instantaneous gratification. I want a thorough fuck session, something where I make the delicious female scream for hours. But unfortunately, that’s not possible right now.
Ali daintily wipes her hands on the napkin, and makes like she’s about to get up and leave.
“Wait,” I say, not ready to be alone just yet. “Why don’t we just … talk?”
She looks confused. “I thought we went over everything?”
“Not about work,” I say. “We could just get to know each other.”
“Oh,” she says, frowning. “I thought…um, I’m not sure. You know, no fraternizing and all that?”
Shit, she’s caught me in a bind. How do I get out?
“I’m not ashamed of what we’ve done,” I say slowly. “My board of directors has a strict policy about dating. Employees aren’t allowed to date each other at all. We’re strictly forbidden to start any kind of relationship with authors, especially a sexual relationship. That’s why I said we had to keep what happened between us.”
The brunette nods with understanding in those caramel eyes.
“I totally get it. And I can’t risk my career either,” she says. “Being an author is what I’ve always wanted. If sleeping with you is going to affect me getting published, then I don’t think we should either.”
I take her hand in mine. “I won’t let that happen, Ali. I promise. You will absolutely get published.”
She doesn’t look convinced, but her face slowly softens. I stand and walk to her side of the desk, taking Jenny’s seat. “So, let’s get to know each other.”
“Okay,” she says quietly. “But where do I start? This is a little awkward, don’t you think?”
I raise an eyebrow at her, that small palm warm in my big one.
“Only as weird as you want it to be sweetheart. I’m interested in anything that comes from your lovely lips.”
She giggles a little but then grows serious.
“Okay, well, I’m an only child. I grew up in the suburbs, and I still live there. I love traveling, but I want to live in the same town my parents live in when I’m married. It’s a beautiful place to raise a family. Writing is my passion. I do some freelance writing, but I work as a social media specialist to earn a living. I get to work remotely and pretty much whenever I want, so it’s a great gig. How about you?”
Hmm, very interesting. So she’s family-oriented. I like that.
“I’m an only child, too. I think.” I decide not to get into that right now, quickly moving on. “This business is pretty much my life. I’ve always loved books, so getting to publish them is a dream come true. I’m a city guy and I can’t really imagine living in the burbs, but your town sounds amazing.”
She smiles with understanding.
“I like living close enough to the city that I can visit on a whim, but far enough that I can breathe.”
“Makes sense,” I nod. “The city can get claustrophobic.”
She smiles again.
“But there are things about NYC that I love too,” she hurries. “And if you live here, I’m sure you’ve adapted, what with the museums and book stores. That’s something I wish we had up around our town. But we only have one book store, period, and it’s called Idlewild.”
“Idlewild?” I ask curiously. “As in the old name for JFK Airport?”
“Yeah,” she laughs. “Because it’s a book store devoted to flying. Specifically, books on aviation. As you can tell, I don’t buy a lot from there.”
I throw my head back and laugh. It sounds quaint but also cute. A bookstore devoted to flying? Pretty obscure, but kind of cool in its own way.
“So what else?” I ask invitingly. “Tell me more about your childhood.”
Ali blushes, but she starts talking. She was always a little lonely as an only child, and always hoped to have siblings. But her parents, Bob and Elaine, decided that one was enough, what with both of them having careers. As a result, Ali’s hoping to have at least four children to make up for her childhood, if not five or six.
“Six?” I ask, taken aback. “That’s a huge number.”
“I know,” she says, blushing. “That’s why I have to live in the suburbs and not in the city. Because what apartment here has six bedrooms? Seven if you include a master suite for the parents.”
I don’t mention that I live in a penthouse that has eight bedrooms because it seems unnecessary right now. Honestly, I’m knocking around in there like a loose rattle because what single guy needs eight bedrooms? But hey, I got a good price and it’s been an amazing investment. It should be worth at least twenty mil when I sell it.
But suddenly, selling doesn’t seem like the right thing to do. In fact, it’d be kind of nice to have a passel of kids underfoot with a loving, beautiful mother like Ali. The brunette continues laughing and talking, unaware that I’m having these thoughts. Holy fuck, have I gone crazy? Am I actually envisioning domesticated life with a woman by my side and a dozen rugrats underfoot?
But it’s true. Ali seems to have changed me within this short time. She’s gorgeous, intelligent, with family-oriented values. Who better to raise a dozen kids with? They’d suckle at her breast before growing up to be incredible, enlightened adults.
Holy fuck. Holy shit. Is this really me? I’m thinking about a family? Children? Even a dozen children? Oh shit. I’m literally dizzy with confusion. It’s like my world’s been turned upside down, and what was forwards is now back.
But fortunately, I’m able to hide my disorientation from the beautiful girl by nodding, smiling, and asking a couple good questions at the right moments. We talk until my assistant calls to say it’s time for my meeting. Ali and I both stand.
“Thanks for coming,” I say sincerely. “I liked finding out about your childhood, sweetheart.”
She blushes.
“I don’t think I’ve ever talked that much about myself, Mr. Carmichael. I was a total motormouth.”
Leaning forwards, I brush her temple with my lips.
“And I liked hearing it,” I breathe into her ear. “It was one hundred percent interesting.”
She blushes.
“Next time, you’ll have to tell me about yourself,” she invites. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
And suddenly, the world comes crashing down. Because I’m an orphan with a dark past. I don’t deserve someone as wholesome and good as Ali. She’s light, sweetness, and bliss rolled into one, whereas I’m a mass of selfishness and destruction. I don’t deserve someone as good as her.
But I keep my thoughts under wraps.
“Will do,” is my light comment. “See you next time.”
And with a smile and wave, the curvy brunette disappears, leaving me alone in my office. Suddenly, it seems very empty without her. But this is the way it has to be. Because I have a dark heart … and an innocent like the beautiful Ms. Hartman doesn’t deserve to be corrupted.