I push open the doors to the conference room. All three of the employees in my new division are sitting around arguing about Greg’s book suggestion.

“I think it’s totally ridiculous that they could do that without anyone noticing,” Trina says, rolling her eyes behind her purple-framed glasses.

“You’re going to use reality to argue your point? My genre is supposed to make you think outside the box. What are we going to read with yours? The fact that Ken’s dating Skipper behind Barbie’s back? Original.” Greg’s face is all hot and red.

I take a seat at the conference table facing the glass wall, so I can see outside to the rest of the office in case I need to signal for help in here.

“I think you’re mixing up some characters there. Was Skipper Barbie’s sister or her friend?” Hank asks, taking a bite of his giant sub sandwich. Does the guy eat all day long? Guess I can’t say anything since I had Victoria grab me a cheeseburger from In-and-Out and I’m reaching into the bag to grab it.

“She was her sister, so no, Ken would not be dating her.” Trina’s so adamant that it makes me laugh over my mouthful of burger.

“Or would he?” Hank asks.

I think Greg might get screwed in this deal. Hank seems to enjoy the romance side. Having Quinn in my life has eased me into going that direction as well. I can understand the appeal now.

Greg throws his arms up in the air. “You, too?” He sets his gaze on me and I can’t help but smile. “So, it’s done. I’m done. We’re doing romance.” He flops down in his chair as though he’s filled with helium and we’ve poked a hole in him.

“Calm down. Nothing’s been finalized,” I assure him. I crunch up the wrapper to my burger and place it next to my bottle of water. “Let’s start though. Go around and we’ll talk about Greg’s choice. Then if Trina’s ready, we’ll talk about what she’s got. Sorry to put you on the spot, Trina, but my dad wants a decision made by next week. Which means we need to move on this.”

“I finished Greg’s book,” Trina chimes in.

“Me too,” Hank says.

“So, I’m the loser who didn’t?” I chuckle.

“Technically if you didn’t finish it and we did, I’d say you’re the winner. I can’t get those hours back.” Trina quirks up one side of her lips.

Greg’s face is now even redder than before, so I quickly try to move us on in a different direction. “Okay, let’s begin. Hank.”

We go around the table, Hank saying he could see it. He lists the parts he liked that could be incorporated, and what he thinks the public would like and dislike in adapting it to a movie. Greg pleads his case again. Trina though, she surprises me with her favorable comments and very little negativity except for the cost to shoot the film.

An hour goes by and I check the clock to see we should wrap up for the day. Being on the West Coast, we all only have limited time before the East Coast closes down and that’s for the people who work late.

“Okay, really quick, Trina.”

She smiles, sitting up in her chair, positioning her glasses and sliding her book out from under Greg’s.

“As I mentioned, it’s young adult, YA. Maybe more upper YA because they lose their virginity, so we wouldn’t be marketing to thirteen-year-olds or anything. But”—her hand lands over her heart—“it’s a true love story. There’s so much raw emotion. The only thing is, we might have to change the ending because hello, everyone wants HEA.”

“What’s HEA?” Greg asks, leaning back and appearing indifferent about the conversation.

She looks at him like he’s an idiot. “Happily Ever After.”

Greg’s face distorts, and he rolls his eyes.

My phone vibrates in my suit jacket.

“Okay, pass them out. What’s it called?” I ask, pulling out my phone to see who texted me.

“Fool Me Once,” Trina says and a book flops on top of my notebook.

I straighten the book, barely getting a glimpse other than the picture of the beach on the cover.

“Okay, everyone read the book and we’ll meet later this week to discuss.”

“Wait,” Trina coos. “I thought I got a chance to pitch it today?”

“Why do you have to pitch it? It’s already going to be selected,” Greg mumbles.

Just then, Quinn walks by the conference room. I spot her through the glass wall wearing a short sundress and I have to shift in my seat to stay comfortable. Her hair is down and curled, perfect for me to fist in my hand while I take her from behind.

“Oh, the boss’s girlfriend is here, that’s the rush,” Greg snaps and I’m about to take this guy off the project if he doesn’t keep it in check.

“Wait.” Hank looks down at his book and then up again as Quinn disappears from view. “You didn’t say she was an author.”

“What?” I say, my thoughts still on getting Quinn naked on my desk.

“The author’s name isn’t Quinn, it’s Alisha Quinn.” Trina inspects the book again. “Oh.”

I grab the book, turning it over. It drops from my hands and a picture of Quinn stares up at me from the back cover—her hair swung over her shoulder, the smile I know so well on her face.

“What’s the book about?” I ask, my forehead creased while I’m still staring down at the book.

“Um… a boy.”

“More specifically, Trina,” I snap, waving my hand in the air, picking up the book and skimming the blurb on the back.

“It’s a boy-next-door kind of trope. She falls for him and then he cheats on her and sends her away.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” I pull all my stuff together and storm out of the office.

“My money’s back on me,” Greg says as I leave the room.

I walk down the hall, spotting Quinn talking to Victoria. I pass by them and hold the door to my office open.

“Quinn,” I say with as much calm as I can muster, convincing myself to calm the fuck down before I start throwing the furniture.

“See you, Victoria.” Quinn saunters in, probably thinking I’m pretending to be mad for some type of boss-secretary roleplay encounter.

I shut the door, flick the lock and Victoria glances back and sticks her tongue in her cheek, thinking the opposite of what’s going to happen.

“Have I been a bad girl?” Quinn says, running her finger along the edge of my desk. “I really need this job, Mr. Kale.” She continues the charade that would usually have me unbuttoning my pants and playing along.

She sits in my chair, resting her feet on the edge of my desk. I stalk toward the desk, ignoring the fact I can see up her dress and she really isn’t wearing any panties.

My dick twitches. Traitor.

I drop the book on my desk. “Explain.” Widening my stance, I cross my arms over my chest.

She glances at the book and her feet fall, but unless she’s got an identical twin, the book isn’t a surprise to her.

“Jag,” she says, her voice revealing the lie she’s held from me since we’ve been back together.

“I have to find out like a dumbass from one of my employees? Boy, don’t I look like the lovesick idiot who didn’t know his girlfriend wrote a book about him.”

“It’s not what you think and I was going to tell you.”

“Tell me I’m not the asshole in the book then.”

Her shoulders fall. “I wrote it on a whim. Kind of like therapy to get over you and purge you from my system. It was years ago and then I met this agent, and my friend told her I had a finished book. Everything kind of snowballed from there.” Her voice is shaky and her face is growing redder by the second.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” I ask, falling into the chair across from her, grabbing the book on my way down.

I flip through it while she stays quiet.

“I was going to…but then things were so good. I planned to tell you tonight.”

“‘He’s the typical rich-boy asshole who uses girls and tosses them out like yesterday’s trash,’” I read and wince. “Anything good about me in here?” I hold it up.

She bites her lip. “Some. The way you were my first time. I didn’t lie, Jagger. It might have been written though my eyes, but I didn’t lie in that book.”

I tip my head back, drawing in a deep breath. I’m unsure where to move from here. “I need to read it.”

“Please, don’t.” She stands up, rounding the desk and coming to stand directly in front of me. “Don’t. It’s best that we start fresh.”

“I can’t start fresh when this is out there.”

She chews on her bottom lip for a second before responding. “Okay. Putting everything out on the table now, I’m writing a second book in the series. It’s the couple’s happily ever after.”

I blow out a stream of air. “Fucking great. So, just to be clear, you’re not a freelance writer and you’ve already published one book.” I stare down at the book. “USA Today Bestseller?”

She shrugs, her eyes seconds away from releasing the tears pooling there. I don’t want to see her cry, but I’ve never felt so betrayed.

“Yeah. It did well,” she says in a small voice.

“So, this is why your office door is always shut? And why you close up your laptop whenever I’m over your shoulder?”

She nods.

“You deliberately deceived me?”

She nods again, slower this time. “When we first came back into each other’s lives I didn’t think you deserved to know. We were nothing. But Jagger, please know I was going to tell you, it’s just we were doing great and…”

I stand, and she falters back, catching herself on the edge of my desk. “We were doing good because I didn’t know the truth.” I slam the book down on my desk. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been for me to be honest with you about the things that I regret? I haven’t lied once to you.” I hold my finger up. “Because you were that important to me. I wanted us to have a clean slate and put the bullshit behind us, but you?” My eyes zoom in on the book. “You kept this from me. You published a book about our love story, painting me as the fucking prick. I loved you, Quinn. I loved you so fucking much back then. Do you have any idea how bad it killed me to let you go? Do you know that I ran off to Europe to be by myself for two weeks before I started at Stanford? That I locked myself in a hotel room, only going out for food? How many times I picked up the phone to call you…”

She rounds the desk, tears streaming down her face, reaching out for me. “I didn’t know any of that when I wrote this book. I’m sorry—”

I backstep before she can reach me, folding my arms over my chest. “Me, too. I’m sorry because here I thought you were the one person who saw me as different, who saw under that layer I armor myself with, but I guess you didn’t. You couldn’t even be honest with me.”

She stands there, her mouth agape. She should turn around, grab her purse and leave my office. She should, but she stays facing me, and her tears stop, her small hands balling into fists.

“Fuck you, Jagger Kale!” she screams, and I catch Victoria turning around on the other side of the glass. “I loved you, too. I was willing to leave my life in Ohio and move to California for you. You crushed me. You laid me down in your bed, promising me you’d never leave me. Whispering how much you loved me and how lucky you were to find the one. Maybe you forget, but I whispered those things, too. And I’ve accepted your apology for the past.” She inhales a breath, but she’s armed with more. Her hands land on my desk and she leans over toward me. “You let me walk into that party with all of your friends as you had your tongue down that slut’s throat. You destroyed and belittled me in front of everyone until I ran out crying and you never followed. So, excuse me for being bitter. Excuse me for portraying you like the asshole you acted like.” She swipes at her eyes. “Go to hell, Jagger Kale. I never want to see you again.”

She turns around, grabs her purse from the chair by the door and walks out past the line of employees who stopped to watch my heart breaking.

I pick up the book and throw it at the window.