“What else can I get for you?” Brenna asks as she fluffs the pillows on the couch in my new office.
“I honestly don’t know what I need.”
Brenna wrings her hands and walks to the wall opposite my desk, straightening the rows of my books on the tall, white cases. When they are perfectly aligned she repositions the tulips on my desk. I watch her curiously. She stops when she sees me staring and peers out into the hall like she dreads leaving me.
“I’m really excited to have you here, even if it is only for a few months. Do you need anything?”
I shake my head.
“I’m just outside. Press zero and I’ll come running.”
I smile. She’s really sweet. “Thank you. I think it’s going to take me a little while to get used to this setup. Is Luna here yet?”
Brenna gazes up at the clock on the wall. Luna insists there be one in every room. She doesn’t like people constantly looking at their phones. She wants to know you’re checking the time rather than reading a text. She’s heard the checking the clock excuse way too many times. Now no phones are allowed during meetings. She runs a tight operation.
“It’s not even nine. She’s usually in about five minutes after. Half the staff rushes in at nine oh three.”
I smirk. I should know that by now. I’m just glad Brenna is early like I am. It’s nice to have someone here with me on my first day.
“Do you want more coffee?” she asks, pointing to my orange “Calm Your Tits” mug.
“No, I’m good for now. I’ve already had three cups and I’m either going to pee all day or shake uncontrollably. You go ahead and do whatever you need to do. I’m fine.”
Brenna smiles and slowly backs out of my office. It’s almost as if she thinks I’ll disappear if she takes her eyes off me. Luna probably told her to make sure I don’t make a run for it.
After we signed the contract to proceed with the movie for Book Boyfriend, Luna insisted I get an office at the publishing house. Once they get the script written, she says it’ll be easier to communicate with them if I’m here rather than at home. I think she wants to keep an eye on me and make sure I’m working on the sequel.
I hate sequels. I thought I’d wrapped up the story nicely, but I guess readers want more of Penn and Kasey. The constant requests on social media along with the fifty thousand books I sold the first month made a sequel almost a necessity. Luna said it would be stupid to walk away from the potential sales a second book could bring.
I plop down in my desk chair and swivel around in a circle, ending back at the flashing cursor on the blank page of my laptop. Leaning my head on my hand, I stare at the screen.
I can barely remember the details of Fisher’s eyes anymore and it makes me sad. I really wanted to move on from him, but since the last book did so well, I’ll be forced to think about him for a few more months. I hate that I made him so damn perfect and part of me wishes I wouldn’t have written about him at all. He’s gone from my dreamy one-night fling to the man I’ve thought about obsessively for months. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. I honestly believed I’d walk away from him and never think of him again. Boy, was I wrong.
Still, I refuse to Google him. I know it’s silly, but I’d rather fantasize about him as the ideal man than find out he’s a douche. I think if I searched him, it would ruin my chances of writing another book. I couldn’t write Penn as the sexy alpha male he is if I found out Fisher wasn’t like him at all. He’s my muse.
But, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about looking him up. I’d kill to see a picture of him. Deep down inside I know one image would be like my personal crack and I’d end up searching for him day and night until I knew everything there was to know.
I refuse to do it. Instead, I think about that one amazing night on the beach and try to let the rest go. Forgetting him would be easier if I had a man in my life, but I still have no desire to date. It’s just me and my books. I’m fine with the way things are. At least, that’s what I tell myself on lonely nights. No one needs to know that thinking about him is the only way I orgasm anymore. It’s so pathetic. I need to get a life.
I tug my hair back and twist the tie around it until it’s out of my face. I don’t care what I look like. I usually don’t think about it much unless I’m going to be around people I don’t know.
When Luna insisted I come here three times a week, I told her that after today, she should expect me here in my pajamas. I can hardly wait to prove to her that I was serious. I’m about ready to take off these dress pants and sit in my underwear.
“See? Isn’t this nice?”
Briefly lifting my eyes from the screen, I scowl at Luna as she stands in the doorway.
“That’s an attractive look for you. Should I grab the camera? We can use that as the next image for the back of your books.”
“Fuck off. I’m trying to write.”
She practically skips to my desk and I grab the laptop away from her prying eyes before she sees the blank page.
“Oh come on!”
“No. You’ll have to wait just like you do when I’m at home.” I unbutton the top button of my pants and untuck my blouse to cover it.
“You look really nice today.” She tries not to laugh when she says it, but she can’t control herself.
“I’m wearing sweats on Wednesday. Be prepared.”
“I don’t care what you wear as long as I get to squeeze you once a day. It’ll almost be like the old days when you were the first person I saw in the morning.”
“First of all, we haven’t roomed together since freshman year in college and that lasted a whole semester because I couldn’t stand the constant influx of various men. I was rarely the first person you saw and we both know it.”
“Minor details. Did you start an outline?”
I swallow hard and gaze at the door, searching for something to distract Luna from her question. “Did I mention that Brenna is a real sweetheart? You should give her a raise.”
Luna furrows her brows and sits on the corner of my desk, crossing her arms. “Let me see what you’ve written.”
“No. I’m not ready for you to read it yet.”
She shakes her head. “You lie for shit. You haven’t written anything, have you?”
I huff like I’m offended. “I’ll have you know that I was about to type before you came barging in here.”
She smirks. “You’ve got this. You know that, don’t you?”
I smile weakly. “Of course.”
She gazes up at the clock on the wall. “I have a conference call. I’ll see you for lunch?”
“Yes. You’re taking me out and you’re buying.”
As she leaves the office, I place my laptop back on my desk and grab ahold of the mouse, tapping it nervously. Where do I begin?
It’s almost noon when Brenna knocks on my door. “Delivery!”
I quickly click on the close tab so she doesn’t see or hear the video of the skating dog I was watching.
“Sorry to interrupt, but this came for you!”
The smell hits me almost immediately. My stomach growls as I open the bag she places on my desk: two steak tacos, a chicken taco, chips, and a big tub of guacamole.
I roll my eyes. “Ha! Tell Luna she’s hilarious.”
“Tell me I’m what?” she asks as she rounds the corner. “You ordered food? I thought we were going out?”
“I didn’t order food, you did. Was this supposed to be funny? Are you trying to inspire me?” I ask.
“What did you get?”
“I got the meal Penn sends Kasey on her first day in the office. It’s cute but a little creepy.”
“Really?” Luna asks excitedly. “Is there a card?”
“You know perfectly well that Penn doesn’t send a card. Kasey ends up calling the taco place and they tell her that a gentleman came in, paid cash, and asked that the food be delivered to her workplace.”
“But did you get one this time?” she asks.
“You’re not funny. Just admit you sent it. We can laugh about it and I might even share my chips.”
“Greer . . . I swear I didn’t do it. Maybe it was the production team?”
She’s serious. I can tell. I shrug my shoulders. “Yeah, maybe.” I empty the bag and as expected there’s no card.
After I left Fisher in Florida, I started writing nonstop. I created this fantasy book where Penn ends up seeing a picture of Kasey on the news, realizes she’s an author and reads her book. Then he starts making everything in the story come true. The first thing that happens is Kasey gets tacos. It would be funny if someone left a card saying it was a joke.
“The delivery guy asked specifically for Macy Greer,” Brenna says after the brief silence.
“Brenna, can you call the taco place and see who ordered the food?” Luna asks.
“I’m on it.”
Luna grabs a taco and sits down in the chair across from my desk. “It’s kind of cute, don’t you think?”
“Unless they’re laced with poison from a crazy fan who hates me. Maybe Selena Popper sent them. You know she tweeted that the world would be a better place with less of my whiny characters.”
Luna stops mid bite and refolds the taco into the wrapper, placing it on my desk. “She’s just jealous. She’s never happy for anyone. I swear, her readers are made up of nothing but haters. I’ve never seen such a nasty group. But she’d never stoop so low as to kill you. Jeez, overreact much?”
“Why’d you stop eating then?” I ask through a smirk.
“I remembered I’m on Keto. No carbs.”
“Uh-huh.” I unwrap a taco and lift it to my lips. “So you wouldn’t mind if your star writer ate a deadly taco and died before the sequel was written?”
“Stop! Don’t eat that!”
I laugh. “Now who’s paranoid?”
Luna stands and picks up the food and drops it in the trash. “I promised you we’d go out to lunch. Let’s go.”
I re-button my pants and slip my shoes back on my feet.
Brenna is just ending her call as we exit my office. Her eyes look like they might pop out of her head. “They said some guy in a three-piece suit came in and ordered the food. The girl said he was really cute. She also said he paid cash. It’s just like the book!”
Luna and I stare at each other. Luna shrugs her shoulders. “Whatever. It’s probably a fan who begged her husband to do it. You’ll probably get a message from one of your readers asking if you liked it. You’re more popular than ever. Weird shit is bound to happen.”
I laugh although it’s uneasy. She’s probably right. Tacos are one thing. No one would dare do what Penn does next.