Page 18 of Not on the Same Page

“Thanks.” I can’t help smiling broadly. “Between you and me, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Not yet.” He tilts his head. “It’s a merger, right?”

I nod and raise a finger, signaling to the bartender that I’d like to order.

“Then you wouldn’t have gotten the promotion unless they saw something in you. It’s a crowded industry. I imagine they had their pick of people to head this up, and you were at the top of the list.”

These are the same things I’ve been telling myself since Anastasios announced my new position, but it goes a long way to hear someone else’s vote of confidence in me.

“Anyway,” Ashton continues as the bartender makes her way over to us. “Your drink’s on me.”

I smirk. “I’m the one with the fat new paycheck. Shouldn’t drinks be on me?”

Ashton’s laugh is loud and almost grating. “You can get the next three.”

I’m not entirely sure if he’s kidding, but I wince. Leave it to Ashton to always angle himself to come out on top.

Still feeling off-center from running into Trina and wanting to fit in with Ashton and his buddies, I order a bourbon on the rocks. Ashton introduces me to the two other men he’s with—Dale and William. All three of them are editors at the same press. I’m surprised to find they’ve sent so many, but apparently they’re scouting for new writers too.

I’m only half-listening to their small talk as I sip the amber liquid from my glass and scan the lounge. I’d be kidding myself if I said I wasn’t looking for Trina’s signature blonde hair and red lips. I’d also be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed when I don’t see her.

“We’re considering something new from Charles Hall, but I don’t know. I get a weird vibe from that guy,” Dale is saying when I return to the conversation.

Ashton snorts. “Casey has some stories about him. Don’t you?”

“Just one.” I take another sip of my bourbon. “He had been trying to leverage Anastasios Press against JMP for a better offer. To sweeten the deal for himself, he let them know we had signed Scarlett Frye under a new pen name.”

“Oh, fuck. Yeah, I kind of remember that.” Dale chuckles and runs a hand over the red, wiry hairs of his beard. “What happened?”

“Mark at JMP was pissed we signed her,” I admit. “We knew it was a gamble, but we figured it’d be fine when her book did well, which it did.” The men all nod, impressed. I’m sure they’ve heard about the numbers that book pulled when it was released. It would have been hard to avoid that information. “Anyway, he couldn’t keep his big mouth shut about it, so when we found out who did it, Anastasios had some choice words for Mark and his handling of the situation. Charles ended up without a deal at all.”

I’m not surprised they hadn’t heard about that last part. Anastasios was clear he didn’t want Charles anywhere near us or JMP, but it would have been in bad taste to spread more information than that to other presses. Over a year later, though, I’m not going to lie about it when asked directly.

“And Scarlett’s book ended up taking off.” Ashton shoots me an approving look. “Well done.”

“I had very little to do with it,” I say.

“Still, what’s good for the goose and all that.”

I’m not sure that’s the appropriate phrase, but these guys are all at least two drinks ahead of me, and I fear correcting them would be futile.

Just then, a flash of nearly white catches my eye from outside the large windows overlooking the patio. Trina is standing out there alone, arms wrapped around her torso and a glass of white wine in one hand, awkwardly resting at her opposite elbow. She’s facing the lawn, her shoulders raising and lowering as if she’s taking a deep breath.

“Um, excuse me.” I’m sure I’m interrupting something William is saying, but I don’t care. “I see someone I need to speak with. Good to meet you both. It was great seeing you, Ashton.”

Ashton glances out the window where my gaze had been stuck, then smirks knowingly. “Sure thing. See you around.”

I don’t like that smirk one bit. There’s no way he could have known about Trina and me a year ago when it was happening. We haven’t seen each other in longer than that, and I doubt he even knows her. But his smirky implication that I’m out for a piece of ass grates on my nerves.

Though…aren’t I? If she wanted to start up something physical, I mean. That’s all it would be.

No, I tell myself. She’s a friend, and she’s outside alone. Mom always told me never to leave a lady by herself at a function. It’s good manners, that’s all.

Yet, try as I might, I can’t slow my steps down as I make my way quickly through the lodge and outside into the dry, summer air.

There are other people out here, many of them admiring the view of the Rockies in the distance. I admit, it’s a gorgeous landscape. Especially now, at sunset, with the clouds painted in neon oranges and pinks. The mountains are purplish. They slice majestic, jagged lines through the sky.

Trina doesn’t notice me, so I take an extra second to watch her as her hair shines with the last reflected light of the day. She’s wearing a form-fitting black dress with capped sleeves and a boat neckline. Her hair is twisted up in a clip, leaving the long column of her neck exposed. It’s strange seeing her out of her characteristic flowing skirts and T-shirts, but she’s no less gorgeous than she always is.