Chapter 22

Ethan

IT HAD BEEN FOUR DAYS SINCE I’d last seen Jenna, and I was climbing the walls. I couldn’t believe how much I missed her. It was so weird to think I’d only known her for such a short time, but I was feeling like I needed her more than I’d ever needed anyone in my entire life. Thoughts of her consumed my mind as I sat in Edward’s office, staring out the window at his midtown view, listening to the demands my publisher was placing on me.

“Ethan, it’s time to get back in the game. You don’t want to be forgotten in the slew of new authors who are cranking out one book after another.”

“Really, Edward? You should know by now, that’s not my style. I’ll write again when something comes to me. I’m not going to force it and produce subpar work, just so my readers don’t forget me.”

“Well, Ethan, I just thought now that you’re getting laid on a regular basis, maybe you’d be getting inspired. She seems to be a little spitfire. I could only imagine what she’s like in bed.”

“Leave her out of this!” I snapped.

He held up his hand in defense. “Okay, calm down. I just thought—”

“Well, don’t think where she’s concerned anymore. You know nothing about her, so stop making assumptions.”

“Very well.” He nodded.

I was pretty sure I’d bruised his ego a bit. Edward was used to barking out the orders, not abiding by them. When we first started working together, I was guilty of catering to his every demand, but once I figured out he needed me more than I needed him, that all changed.

“Do whatever it is you need to do, but the publisher wants a rough draft of something in front of them by January thirty-first.”

“You’re kidding me, right? That’s only two and a half months away.”

“And your point being? You’ve written number one bestsellers in less time than that.”

“Edward, that was a different time in my life. I can’t be expected to—”

“I’m not expecting you to do anything. The publishing company you have a legal binding agreement with is. So, make it happen.”

The more I was around Edward the more I was beginning to realize what a douchebag he was. He was falling right into the new trend of the more books the better because the more books I pumped out, the more money he’d make. Yes, writing was my livelihood and a means to pay my bills, but it would always be an art to me first, and I’d never produce half-ass work just to appease some stupid publishing deal.

“Don’t forget you have that dinner on Thanksgiving weekend.”

“I won’t be there,” I said as I stood up.

“What do you mean you won’t be there?” Edward asked, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair.

“Just what I said…I’m not going.”

“Ethan!” he shouted when I reached the door. “You’re committing career suicide by excluding yourself from these events.”

I opened the door and turned around to face him before making my exit. “I may be, but I’d rather kill my career than kill myself, and for the first time in a long time, I feel alive…and it has nothing to do with my career.”

He shook his head in disbelief as I walked out the door.

I took the elevator down and stepped out onto the busy sidewalk, knowing I should probably head upstate to my cabin and lock myself away until I came up with something that would at least appease my publisher even if it didn’t satisfy me. But as I got into my car and headed out of the city, my heart was leading me in a different direction than my head.

***

Three hours later and I was standing on the front porch of Jenna’s place, waiting for her to answer the door. Her smile that greeted me erased any doubts I may have had about blowing off my writing.

“Ethan! I thought you were in the city.” Her warm, soft lips pressed against mine was like a refreshing rain after a long, tedious drought.

“I was. This afternoon. I’m sorry I didn’t call first. I—”

“Don’t be sorry. This was the best surprise ever! Come in. You’re just in time to be my guinea pig for this new recipe.”

I followed her into the kitchen and took a seat at the table. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until she put the plateful of pasta in front of me.

“Well?” she asked after I took the first bite as she took a seat next to me.

“It’s really good.” I wasn’t lying. Jenna was one of the best cooks I’d ever met.

“Phew, I thought maybe I used a little too much basil.”

“Nope, it’s perfect.”

She placed her elbow on the table and rested her chin in the palm of her hand, unable to wipe away her smile.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Oh...” She snapped out of it, leaning over the table and kissing me on the cheek. “I’m just so happy you’re here.”

Little did she know, but I was probably even happier than her to be here.

After dinner, we sat in front of the fireplace with a glass of wine. “So, how did your meeting go today?” Jenna asked.

I sighed heavily. I was having such a great time with her, I’d totally forgotten about the bullshit from earlier. “Ah, it sucked.” I focused on the dancing flames in the fireplace. “You know the new rule in publishing is crank out as many books as you can and who cares if they suck, as long as the publishing companies and agents are getting their money…fuck the readers.”

“Yeah, I hear ya. Gone are the days of Harper Lee where just one book could have a profound effect on future generations. It’s so sad.”

“Yeah, it is. They’re expecting me to have a rough draft to my editor by the end of January.”

Her eyes widened. “How on earth are you going to pull that off?”

“Don’t know. I’m ready to just do what all these other authors are doing…give them a shit story, rake in the money for it, and just suck up the bad reviews.”

“Ethan, you don’t want to do that.”

“I don’t. But what other choice do I have? I have a legal obligation to my publisher and fuck the readers, according to Edward.”

Her face dropped at the mention of his name.

“Well, do you have any ideas at all for a new story?”

I shook my head and took a sip of wine. “I’ve been so out of the writing world for the past year, I’m not even sure if I know how to do it anymore. I totally removed myself from anything and everything that had to do with the publishing industry.”

“Well, they say that a lot of these old bed-and-breakfasts around here are haunted. Maybe you can do a ghost story and use this as the setting.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t overthink it.”

She put her glass of wine down and pressed her lips to mine. “Then don’t.”

I smiled as she lifted her shirt over her head. My lips trailed down her neck and we both eased ourselves to the floor. Any thoughts of a new book were temporarily put to rest. The only thing now filling my mind was making love to the beautiful woman lying beside me.