Page 28 of Double Obsession

“Fuck you, man,” Hunter said around a grin. Then he leaned back and closed his eyes. He sure as hell hoped a roll with his long-time crush, Jenna Gibson, was the cure to whatever in the hell was wrong with him.

Chapter Thirteen

Jenna took one last look in the mirror; her heavy eye makeup made her barely recognizable. She fluffed up her hair and tugged her too-tight dress over her hips. After spritzing perfume into the air, she ducked under the rainbow of scent particles. She tossed her laptop over her shoulder and locked the door behind her. Now, not to topple off her slut spikes.

The decadence surrounding her didn’t quite take the sting from her predicament. She was about to be booted from both her agency and her publishing house, and the man who made her gushy had probably stumbled upon a younger, more glamorous girl, and would blow her off. Still, the magnificence of the Lancaster always left her breathless. The shiny maple elevator led to a lobby reminiscent of Gatsby’s world. Grand five-tiered chandeliers, wall sconces fit for a palace, and a mural in bright greens and blues dominated the reception area. The bar continued the Art Deco theme and hanging globes cast a golden glow over the rich paneled walls. Jenna chose a round hideaway and slid over a red velvet bench.

She had just arranged her computer and notebook when a hipster waiter approached to take her order. Although she wasn’t a drinker, she ordered liquid courage.

Fifteen minutes later, a woman with spiky gray hair, wearing polyester pants and bright red lipstick caught her eye and waved. Jenna forced a smile and waved back. As Berta climbed into the booth, Jenna chugged the rest of her drink.

“Wow,” Berta said. “You look…” Her brow wrinkled.

Jenna sat forward, waiting for the rest of the assessment. Instead, Berta lifted a hand to summon the waiter.

Maybe she’d make a break for it, flee to her room, and spend an hour in the shower scrubbing beauty products from her hair and body.

Mr. Hipster, with his round spectacles and slicked hair, approached. He looked down his nose at the older woman.

“Coffee,” Berta said.

His appalled gaze slid to Jenna, and he smirked. “Anything else for you?”

“Another.” Jenna pointed to her glass. She considered telling the arrogant fool that Berta was the one paying the tab, but what was the point, since he’d soon discover the error of his ways?

“Can we also get two dinner menus?” Berta asked.

The waiter exhaled.

“Only if it isn’t too much trouble,” Jenna said with as much sarcasm as she could muster.

Rolling his eyes, Mister Hipster strutted away.

“Alright,” Berta said. “Let’s get this over with. Show me what you have written.”

Jenna handed over her computer. Berta retrieved a pair of cateye glasses from her suede purse and began to read.

****

An hour later, Jenna sipped from her third glass of wine as she pushed vegetables around her salad bowl. She’d barely eaten since every nerve in her body hovered one neuron above implosion.

“Now I see why it’s taking you so long,” Berta said.

“Huh?”

“It’s the sexiest thing you’ve written.” Berta chuckled. “I think it matches your new look.”

“So, the book is good so far?”

Berta picked up a fry. “You just bought us some leverage for tomorrow’s meeting. I’m not sure what is going on, but I don’t think McMurry wants to dump you. Maybe he’s getting a lot of pressure from Holmes-Colson, and he doesn’t like looking bad to the publishing houses.”

McMurry could be an intimidating ass, but she was in violation of her contract.

“Do you have anything else you’re working on right now?” Berta asked.

“Not really,” Jenna said. “But now that I hired a nanny, maybe I’ll be able to—” she waved her hands above her head, referencing her brain “—think again.” And perhaps since she was orgasming like a nymphomaniac, she’d smash right through her writer’s block.

Berta finished her last fry and studied Jenna’s mutilated dinner. “I’m glad the nanny worked out.”