It was a . . .Fuck!
A wedding, Jesus, I need to get a grip.
The email.
Holy shit, I never answered.
I bolt upright and start patting the duvet around me, looking for my phone. Not feeling it, I toss the covers away and sprint to my discarded pants on the bench at the foot of the bed.
I yank it out of the limp pocket and scroll down to find it, tapping it open before I can think about it any further.
Dear Mr Knightly,
I wanted to update you on the availability of the ghostwriters you were considering.
Samantha Faith has now become available and would be free for the timescale that will suit your project. That is if you’re still wanting to work on it in the autumn?
I am willing to progress any of the discussed options if this is still something you would like to proceed with.
Kind regards,
Noah Ellington
It’s soannoyinglyformal,I seriously hate it.
I have to breathe in deep through my nose and exhale through my mouth for a minute, because this is what I was most afraid of.
I’m a client to Noah, nothing more.
Gab makesme talk about it during our early lunch.
It’s not my favorite activity, but at least it’s all out in the open and they can hopefully offer me some helpful advice.
I should’ve known better.
“Is he younger than me?” Tristan asks, batting his eyelashes teasingly.
I grit my teeth and answer only with a clipped nod.
“Oh, shit,” Gab whispers, stupidly awed.
“I’ll never let you live it down,” Harry says with his stupid smug smirk.
“Whatever. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?”
“Well,” Gab starts, sitting back and clearly getting comfortable. “Do you actually want to write the book? Do you still want Noah to be your agent? Do you even need an agent?”
Those are all good, valid questions, but I...
Hell, I do have one answer.
“I don’t have time to look for another agent, and besides that, I trust Nate to have good taste in friends. Noah has a small client list, but I believe he’s done right by his authors. I think this could be good for both of us.”
And the thought of never having a reason to seek him out maybe terrifies me a little, but I’m not going to say thatout loud.
I’d like to retain some of my dignity.
“I don’t know,” I add lamely. “There’s not a lot I’m willing to tell the world about my personal life, and hiding it just seems like a lot of work.”