Page 75 of Not a Strong Enough Word

But when the elevator door opens on Scarlett and Charles Hall standing in the lobby, I pause. When he sneers at her, using her full name no less, I see red. Even though I know he would murder me if I were to try, I still want to wipe the floor with him. I want to tell him to get her beautiful name out of his filthy mouth.

Her name. He knows her name. Of course he does; I used her real name when they met in some kind of power move to try to prove to him that I knew her better than he ever could and she was mine.

And suddenly, I know exactly who did this to her. It was this piece of shit with his back to me, probably trying to make some kind of statement like I don’t matter.

I take a couple of tentative steps forward to try to step in but stop myself short. If this is my fault, I should fix it. But Scarlett gives him a look like he isn’t fit to wipe the scum off her shoes. It stops me in my tracks, that look. The last time I saw it, she was calling me pedantic in a noisy bar. Except then, it was edged with a bit of humor. Now she looks like she’s going to squash him in exactly the way he deserves.

Scarlett owns him. She’s cool and calm and collected in a way I haven’t seen in a long, long time. It’s amazing. Inspiring, even. It’s a privilege to watch.

Even when he says that leaving is kind of her thing, she shows no weakness. I know that must hurt like hell, but she just narrows her eyes and says, “You know what, Charles? You’re right—it is my thing. And you’re lucky it is. You’re the kind of trash that takes itself out, so I am going to leave now so I can stand by and watch it happen.”

And with that, she’s gone. Charles is left standing there, gaping after her like a fish out of water before he, too, walks out the front door without even a glance at me.

I should follow Scarlett. I know I should. But I also can’t help but think I caused this, and I have to do what I can to make it right before I talk to her again.

So, I get back in the elevator and go right back up to the offices. Casey and Trina are still in the hallway outside of the conference room, talking with their heads bowed toward each other. When I burst past them, they both look up, wide-eyed with shock and almost looking a little guilty. But I don’t have time for that right now. I march right up to Anastasios Martis’s office door and knock loudly.

“Come in,” I hear from inside. But when I open the door and he sees its me, he stifles an exasperated sigh. “Whitlock, I think you and I both have had enough of this today—”

“All due respect, sir, I know who outed Scarlett.”

His chair creaks as he sits up straighter. He leans his ear toward me slightly, as if he isn’t sure he heard me right.

“What? Who?” Trina says behind me. I hadn’t realized I had an audience, but when I turn around, she and Casey are standing there. Margie is lurking in the distance, too, but close enough that she can hear me.

“Charles Hall,” I say, still breathless with excitement. “He’s been in talks with us and JMP for his new book.”

“Last I heard, JMP wasn’t interested in his book at all,” Casey said.

I raise my eyebrows. That figures. He likely panicked when he told his publisher he was shopping around, only to not have any deals waiting for him at all. “Well, they’re interested now. I just overheard him telling Scarlett he had been secretly meeting with both them and us and planned to have us compete against each other for bids without knowing our fellow imprint was the one in talks with him. They offered him a deal for his book in exchange for the information he had.”

Casey snorts with a shrug. “They can have him. Why would we want to work with him after something like that?”

“Does the man have an agent?” Trina asks. “What reputable agent would agree to this?”

“Like attracts like,” Casey mutters.

“To hear him tell it, he was lying to us and them. Using the deal with JMP as leverage to try to get us to offer more.” I direct this to Anastasios. If I’m reading the room right, he’s just as angry as any of us because he’s also in hot water for signing Scarlett in the first place.

Sure enough, his hand is on his phone in two seconds flat. “The fuck he is,” he mutters under his breath as he violently punches numbers on the keypad.

“Get me Mark,” he grumbles into the phone before looking up at the three of us with a glare.

I linger because I want to make sure this is handled, but Casey puts a hand on my shoulder. “Come on, man. He’ll take care of it.”

Nodding once in Anastasios’s direction, I pull his door shut behind me as I exit his office.

Chapter 34

Ryan

Four Years Ago

It has been exactly one year since the last time I saw Scarlett, almost to the minute. I’ve been counting. Scratching the days off with unhinged tally marks on the wall like a prisoner. It’s an exaggeration, but sometimes I feel like I might as well be. Every day feels like torture. Long and arduous, each one more bleak than the last, because with each day, I’m more sure she’s not coming back.

I used to dream of her showing up at my apartment unannounced. I’d take her into my arms and tell her everything was okay, that as long as we were together, everything would be fine.

I was angry, but not at her. Never at her. I just couldn’t understand what made her just disappear, as if she had never been there in the first place.