Page 74 of Not on the Same Page

“Aww,” Isabella croons. “Don’t get grumpy about it. You’re getting great dick. You should be happy.” She pauses to take another sip of her coffee. “I’m assuming it’s great dick. Is it?”

“That feels like none of your business.” I raise an eyebrow at her, but even I can feel my face flush.

“That’s a yes,” she affirms. “Good for you.”

Rolling my eyes, I lean back in my chair. “The whole point of this conversation is that now it’s more than just good dick.”

“You’re right.” She nods solemnly. “It’s great dick.”

I ball up a napkin and throw it at her. “You’re insufferable.”

She holds up her hands to block my throw, laughing. “I don’t know what the problem is. You have this wonderful, smoking hot guy who fucks you senseless, feeds you, brings you books, and makes you happy. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were looking for reasons to sabotage a situation that would make anyone jealous.”

“I’m not,” I protest. “But if Suzanna found out⁠—”

“Screw Suzanna,” Isabella says, a touch too vehemently. “You can’t let the Ice Queen run your life, for crying out loud. If she thinks people aren’t fucking each other all over the place in this industry, she’s got her head in the sand.”

“Do you have some experience in this area?” I tease.

“No.” She purses her lips, considering. “But if you know anyone…”

I glare at her. “Isabella…”

“I’m kidding.”

She’s not, but I let it go. “I don’t want to lose this job.”

“Okay. Let’s just say I’ll indulge you in your worst-case, anxiety-ridden, doomsday scenario. If Suzanna found out, and if she gave a shit what—or who—you do in your own time, and if she actually went through with firing one of her best and most hardworking agents, what would be so bad about it?” Isabella asks.

I can’t believe she’s serious. “Oh, I don’t know. Bills. Rent. My reputation within the industry.”

She carefully sets her coffee down on the table and leans forward. “Trina. Babe. You signed Scarlett-freaking-Frye as your first author. You’ve had like twelve bangers since then, and now Imani. Not to mention your arsenal of mid-list authors. That’s money in Suzanna’s pocket when she takes her cut without her having to lift a finger. You think she’s going to let that go all because you’re getting dicked down by a hot editor—who also wants to buy books from you, might I add.”

Raising my eyebrows, I point at her. “You’re acting like I haven’t thought about this. A lot. If Suzanna fires me, the money still funnels into her pocket. All of my authors have signed with the agency. I am but a vessel for their deals.”

“And you’re acting like you’re going to keel over and die if she fires you. Wouldn’t you work somewhere else? Or, better yet, what about starting your own agency and keeping all that sweet cash for yourself?”

I reel back, scrunching up my nose. “Do you know how many queries I’d have to wade through if I lost my client list?”

“Your clients might have signed a contract with the agency, but they’ve developed a relationship with you. Contracts can be terminated, you know. And I’d bet my bottom dollar that Scarlett Frye would follow you to the ends of the Earth. Probably some more of your clients, too.” Isabella pulls the corners of her mouth down, considering. “And maybe some agents.”

“I’m not starting my own agency.”

“Why not? You have the experience and the connections, and you’d be a hell of a lot more fun to work for than Suzanna.”

“So would you,” I counter.

“Yeah, maybe I’ll make the leap too, someday. All I’m trying to say here is that this isn’t the bleak scenario you’re making it out to be, and if you’re holding yourself back from going all in with Casey, there’s got to be another reason. You have a lot of power here, and a lot of options.”

I take a sip of my coffee while I let her words sink in. I can’t remember the last time I had any real options…outside of negotiations, I guess. But even then, that authority is limited. I have to do what’s best for my clients. This power is entirely mine.

That was always what was so special about Casey, what kept me coming back to him time and again. His physical demands never took control away from me—quite the opposite. He’s always empowered me to take what I want. He’s always made me feel competent and sexy. And there’s never been a question about whether or not the ball is in my court. It always is. He just follows my cues, even when I want him to be in charge.

It doesn’t change the fact that I’m still having nightmares most nights, my mom still hasn’t called, and there’s a big, lingering part of me that’s worried Casey will decide my anxiety is too much for him. But maybe I should do what Isabella is suggesting in not so many words. Maybe I should just enjoy him and stop worrying about the rest. I got a glimmer of that life yesterday outside of the bar. It was nice.

I open my mouth to respond to her, but her face splits into a shit-eating grin.

“Don’t look now, but lover boy is here.”