Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
I shook my head with a small laugh. She had no idea. “Everything I know about motherhood, I learned from my mom. I didn’t get it until recently, but I do now. It’s okay that you didn’t know how to raise me. It really is. I don’t blame you for being a kid with a kid. You gave me a really great mom. One who came to the games, helped me pick out dresses for prom, listened to my hours of chatter without batting an eye, and never once made me feel like a burden, never wanted anything from me. You taught me that not all moms are called Mom. Mine was called Gran.” I sucked in a stuttered breath. “I’m okay with that.”
Mom stared at me like she’d never seen me before, then crossed her arms under her breasts. “Fine. If you don’t want to sell the movie rights…if you don’t have enough common sense to take the money, or enough compassion for me to do it, nothing I say will make a difference.”
“I’m glad we agree.” My body tensed, recognizing her preamble for exactly what it was, the moment before she went for the emotional kill.
“But I’d be remiss if I didn’t tell you that he’s finished the book. Both endings. If you don’t believe me, call Helen like I did. Call his editor. Hell, call the mailroom clerk. Everyone knows it’s done, just waiting for you to pick an ending.” She turned her attention to Noah. “You’re a piece of work, Noah Harrison. At least I only wanted money. Damian wanted access to Scarlett’s rights. What did you want?” She walked past us, pausing to pick up the bag I hadn’t noticed was already packed by the office door. “Oh, and you should send your editor a nice bottle of scotch, because that man is a guard dog. No one’s seen it but him.” She picked up her bag and walked out of the office.
The front door closed a few seconds later.
“Georgia.” Noah’s voice held an edge of something I hadn’t heard there before—desperation.
Mom had called Helen. Helen wouldn’t lie. She had no reason to, nothing to gain from it. Gravity shifted beneath my feet, but I managed to walk to the window before I faced Noah, putting nowhere near enough distance between us if it was true.
“Is it true?” I wrapped my arms around my waist and stared at the man I’d foolishly allowed myself to fall in love with.
“I can explain.” He put the shirt box on the desk and stepped forward once, but something in my eyes must have warned him off, because he didn’t move any closer.
“Did you finish writing the book?” My voice weakened.
The muscle in his jaw ticked once. Twice. “Yes.”
I heard it in the back of my mind—the gasp, the gurgle, the love that had consumed me less than an hour ago twisting, contorting into something ugly and poisonous.
“Georgia, this isn’t what you think.” His eyes begged me to listen, but I wasn’t done asking the questions.
“When?”
He muttered a curse, lacing his fingers on top of his head.
“When did you finish the book, Noah?” I snapped, grasping onto the anger to keep from drowning in the tide of agony rising in my soul.
“The beginning of December.”
My eyes flared. Six weeks. He’d been lying to me for six entire weeks. What else had he lied about? Did he have a girlfriend back in New York? Did he ever really love me? Or was it all a lie?
“I know this looks bad—”
“Get out.” There was no emotion in my words, no feeling left in my body.
“You had just told me that you wanted us to be a fling, and I was already in love with you. I couldn’t walk away. It was wrong, and I’m sorry. I just needed enough time—”
“To what? Screw with my emotions? Is that what gets you off?” I shook my head.
“No! I’m in love with you! I knew if we had enough time, you’d fall for me, too.” He dropped his arms.
“You love me.”
“You know I do.”
“You don’t lie and manipulate someone into loving you, Noah. That’s not how love works!”
“All I did was give us the time we needed.”
“What happened to I never break my word?” I tossed back.
“I haven’t! Is the draft done? Yes. But the book isn’t finished. I’ve been in here every day, editing both versions, giving us as much time as possible before you have to choose one of the endings. Before you cut us off at the knees because you’re scared.”
“You lied. Apparently my caution was warranted. Take your laptop and your lies and go. I’ll mail whatever else you left, just get away from me.” I’d made the mistake of holding on to Damian after that first lie, and he sucked eight years of my life away as a thank-you. Never again.