"I don't think so," I say, running on the treadmill. I up the speed of the machine, trying hard to beat my personal best pace.

I can't help it. I'm a competitive person.

I can feel sweat trickling down the ridges of my chest, as I focus on the rhythmic falling of my feet. Why does CJ always want to have these talks during my workout sessions? Can't I ever fucking workout in peace anymore?

All I want is one uninterrupted session.

"C'mon, you and Abby work so well together!" she pleads. "There's an undeniable chemistry. You should really consider collaborating on more projects. Just think about it … you two can create a whole series of books! You can create an empire!"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," I say, increasing my pace on the treadmill a little bit more.

"Think about it; you two can take over the market," CJ replies. I can tell she's excited about something when her hands become animated, and right now, as she's speaking, her hands are flying around her face faster than little hummingbirds. Strange. Why have I never noticed how small her hands were before?

"That's a little dramatic, don't you think?" I say.

"Not if it's the truth, Aidan."

"You and I both know that I agreed to one book, and one book only. That's it. I kept my word, and now it's time for me move on to other things."

"Why do you feel as if you need to chase something new? Why not stay where things are working? And don't you agree that one book paid off?" CJ replies.

"Sure, the book did well," I shrug.

"Did well? It did more than well—it did excellent! I'd say you have a natural talent. And besides, I thought things were going well with you and Abby."

I keep running; I don't know where exactly I want to go from here, and I really don't know what to say to CJ for a moment, but I turn toward her and say the first thing that pops into my head.

"Things are going well, but Abby's the author, not me."

"Co-author. Don't kid yourself," she replies. "You were an integral part of that book."

The sun's streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows and it's casting its light on across auburn hair like an illuminated net. I'm always amazed how much the sunlight brings out the red in her hair, making her look especially fiery. I grin when I think about how it matches her personality. That's why I hired her in the first place.

She doesn't fucking give up easily. I'll give her credit for that.

If I decide to move on to other things … and I'm really fucking leaning that way … I have no doubt that CJ will make sure I stay booked with projects. And honestly, I have so many fucking offers pouring in; I don't even know where to start. Pivoting won't be hard. I think back to all of the offers I've received. I could pose as a rugged cowboy on a western romance book cover, or as a chiseled king for a historical romance cover ... the possibilities are endless.

After another pause, CJ turns to me. "Wait a minute … I know you just said things were well, but please tell me you didn't go and mess things up with Abby. You did, didn't you? I knew it! I told you not to mix business and pleasure!"

"Wait a minute! Stop jumping to conclusions. That's not it at all. You've got it all wrong. Like I said, things are fine between Abby and I," I reply."I promise."

She looks me up and down, wondering whether or not she should believe me, but ultimately she does.

"So, what now? If you're so anti book writing, what would you like to do next?"

I pause for a moment. "I want to go back to doing what made me money in the first place … modeling," I say. It's the fucking truth.

"Seems to me that authoring brings in—" she begins to say, but I cut her off.

"Alright, alright—I'll think about it," I reply. "Does that make you happy?"

But she doesn't have to answer that question. The smile on her face speaks volumes.

"That's a smart call," she says. "I'm just looking out for you."

I stop the treadmill and walk off, grabbing a towel and dragging it across my forehead to wipe away some of the sweat. Then I grab my bottle of water and take a big swig. The chill of it refreshes me.

"Is that it for today?" I ask CJ. I'm hoping I can shower and get on with things. I promised to pick Abby up later in the day. We've made plans and I have a surprise for her this evening … a trip to one of the hottest clubs in the city: Python. I can't wait to see her reaction. I think she's gonna be pleasantly surprised.

"There is one more thing…" CJ says slowly.

The way she hedges makes me raise an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah?" I reply.

"I heard from Bad Boy Publishing," she continues, looking up at me to gauge my reaction.

Did she just say Bad Boy? Hearing the name of that publisher nearly makes my fucking heart skip a beat, and I fumble my water bottle, almost dropping it. Abby's told me all about them. What could they want with me? CJ can see the disbelief written across my face—probably the deep fucking crease across my forehead gives it away, and she continues.

"They're extending you a contract if you want it."

What? A fucking contract? From Bad Boy Publishing? That seems to be coming straight out of left field. For once, I'm speechless. I mean, really fucking speechless. I never could've predicted that.

"I know; crazy, right?" she says, reading the look on my face. "Bad Boy is the gold standard in terms of publishing books in the contemporary romance market. Everyone knows that. Seems to me like you're officially back on the map. You're catching the attention of some pretty big fish."

I still can't find the words to respond, so instead I just nod my head and pace the room.

CJ's right.

I'm back on the map alright, but who's attention have I really caught?

Is it a big fish, or a hungry shark?