“Thank you so much for doing this. I know my aunt can be a bit of a pain,” Lindsay, Caitlin’s niece tells me.

I smile, agreeing but not saying so out loud. You can’t be too careful and things might get back to Caitlin. “It’s no problem. And I feel like I should apologize in advance for what will be a slow day.”

“That’s fine,” she says, taking a seat across from my desk. “Just being here is fun. I’ll stay out of your way. But if you need anything, even coffee or something, I’d be happy to help.”

The day is just starting, but I like Lindsay already. She wasn’t what I expected at all, though I suppose it’s unfair to assume everyone who’s related to Caitlin Black to be a miserable troll.

Lindsay is in her early twenties, pretty, polite, and arrived fifteen minutes early. She’s a year away from getting her Master’s in English, and wants to be a literary agent more than an editor, but her aunt refuses to accept that.

“Have you worked here long?” she asks and then laughs. “Of course you have if you’re editor-in-chief. Not that you look old or anything!” Her ivory skin turns red, and she looks down, causing a curtain of blonde hair to cover her face. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I say with a chuckle. “It’s a legitimate question. And yes, I have been here for years. I started as an assistant editor my last year of college and have worked my way up from there.”

“Did you always want to be an editor?”

“I’ve always loved books,” I say, which starts a discussion about our mutual love for all things literary. She and I get along well, which is helping this day go by faster than I thought it would. Because Ana is coming.

“Still want to go into publishing?” I ask Lindsay with a smile at the end of the day.

“Heck yes,” she says, smiling right back. “This is actually making me want to be an editor now. Don’t get me wrong, I see how stressful your days can be, but this was exciting. I like pressure. That’s weird, right?”

I laugh. “No, because I know what you mean, and I like it too. I work well under pressure, which I suppose is a requirement for this job.”

“I have a confession,” she whispers, leaning closer to me. She’s sitting next to me in my office and has no reason to lower her voice. “Part of the reason I was leaning toward being an agent and not an editor was because I cannot stand my aunt.”

I look at her, eyebrows raised, but don’t speak. Assuming everyone else hates Caitlin Black is just as inaccurate as assuming everyone who’s related to her is just as awful.

“She’s overbearing and just, well, mean. I probably shouldn’t have said that. Too personal, right?”

“No, it’s all right. And I imagine working with anyone in your family would be tough. The lines between personal and professional blur and it can create a whole slew of issues.” My own words are like a slap in the face. I crossed those lines with Ana, and I intend to cross them again.

And again.

I’d like to keep crossing them for a very long time.

“She means well. I think. Sometimes I really don’t know. Like tonight…” Lindsay starts and looks into my eyes. She takes her lip between her teeth and I can’t deny it anymore: she’s been flirting with me all day. “I mentioned how going to this release party alone would be weird and she said she’d talk to you about going with me.”

“Right,” I say. There was no talking. No asking if I already had a date. I was told I was accompanying Lindsay and I didn’t say shit about it. All because I want Caitlin’s job. Though as the day went on and the time came closer and closer to seeing Ana, I did mentally go over how the fuck I was going to explain this to her.

“You totally don’t have to,” she goes on. “I mean, if you’re taking your girlfriend or something, I don’t want to be the third wheel. She probably wouldn’t be too happy about having to share you for the night, right?” She laughs and pushes her hair back. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

My jaw tenses. Technically, I don’t. Ana isn’t my girlfriend. We haven’t even established a mutual want to date. I have no ties, no obligation to her. Yet saying that I don’t have a girlfriend feels wrong.

Is it because I want Ana to be my girlfriend?

Or because I know what Lindsay’s question implies.

I want to tell her I’m dating someone, albeit casually, but if she sees me with Ana, she’ll know I’m dating an author. My author. She could tell her aunt. I could kiss my chances of becoming a publisher goodbye.

“No, I don’t have a girlfriend.” I hate myself the moment the words leave my lips. It’s the truth. I don’t have a girlfriend, so why does it feel like I’m betraying Ana? The hate intensifies when I see the hope in Lindsay’s eyes.

“So, you don’t mind if I tag along with you tonight?”

I hesitate. I don’t mean to, but I do. Though I don’t think Lindsay notices. “No, I don’t.” Oh, but I do. I don’t want anyone tagging along tonight. It’s just the release party. After that, I’ll have Ana to myself. I can tell her how I feel and maybe make things official between us. “You might not see much of me though. If you do become an editor, especially one in a management position, there are a lot of hands to shake and people to thank at events like this.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“It can be.”

“So, tonight. Are you picking me up?” She moves closer, close enough for me to smell her floral shampoo. My abhorrence to an attractive woman hitting on me further proves how much I care about Ana.

“Actually, I’ll be at the event before it starts.”

“Oh.”

“I assume your aunt is going.”

“I think she is,” Lindsay sighs. “So, I’ll find you there?”

I nod. “Yeah.” My mind is whirling. I don’t want to lead Lindsay on and give the wrong impression. And I can’t go around this party—this work party—with my arm around Ana’s waist, even though I want to.

Fuck.

What the hell did I get myself into?

“I have a few things to finish up here,” I say. “You can go ahead and go.”

“Okay. Thanks again, Cole. I appreciate this so much. And I’ll see you tonight.”

I give a tight smile, feeling more and more repulsed by myself as the seconds tick by. The moment Lindsay is out the door, I call Ana. I wasn’t able to communicate with her as much as I had yesterday since Lindsay was my shadow all day. My call goes to her voicemail, and I’m pretty sure she’s still on the plane and will be landing soon.

My heart lurches at the thought of seeing her again, and I desperately want to take her home and fuck her hard before we head out tonight. Another call comes through before I can leave a message. Thinking it might be Ana, I pull the phone away from my ear and look at the screen.

It’s Gregory Lawrence’s agent, and I know he wouldn’t be calling me if it wasn’t important. I end the current call and switch over.

“Hey, Brett,” I answer.

“Thank fucking God you answered,” Brett breathes. “We have a problem.”