Chapter 22

My apartment felt empty and too quiet as I strolled inside. It wasn't really. At least, no more so than it had been the day before.

I'd left it the day before to get on with what I'd felt was my life as normal, but spending the night elsewhere had changed how it felt. I'd enjoyed having a few hours where I was living in one of the most amazing bedrooms on the planet with one of the sexiest men alive.

It was strange how one night had made me feel. Normally, I'd never have jumped into bed so soon with someone, but he'd been intoxicating, and I'd never found the words to refuse.

As I sat and tried to distract myself with the mail on my front doormat, I thought about how good it had felt and how much he'd made me feel like I was his.

I shuddered, both with the desire for more and the fear of where it might lead.

No, I thought as I got up again. I couldn't worry. There was no guarantee he'd even be back in the morning. He might not. I could just be another notch on his bedpost, and then he'd be gone from my life forever, the book I wrote about him the only reminder we'd ever even met.

And that interview.

I sighed, wondering how my mother was explaining it to the people she knew. Once more, I was the disappointing daughter.

We hadn't spoken since she'd seen the interview, and I didn't want to bring it up again, so I'd avoided calling her. I also hadn't spoken to my agent recently, although he was at least far happier about my decision-making skills lately.

Then there was my ex-husband. Or, at least, my soon-to-be ex-husband. I didn't want to see him, but we'd agreed to go over the divorce papers and sign them. Thankfully, I'd had the sense to suggest a neutral public location. There was no way I was letting him see where I'd moved into.

I put a hand to my side and ran it over the bruises there. I'd expected fear to fill me as I did. And memories of how it happened. Instead, I thought of how tenderly Jack had kissed each one. He'd been so sweet and almost protective.

But then, so had my ex when I first met him.

Sighing, I fetched my laptop and settled into some work. I had a few hours before lunch, and I needed to make the most of them. My book wouldn't write itself.

Time slipped past, the plot finally coming to me and falling in line while I frantically wrote notes and tried to keep up with my muse. It felt good, exciting even, and I lost track of everything else.

Only as my phone rang, my agent's number coming up, did I realize I'd worked through most of lunchtime.

I answered as I made my way to the kitchen to grab a snack.

"Juno! Why didn't you tell me that you and Jack hooked up? Do you have any idea how good this is for PR?"

I growled in response, pretty sure we'd already had this conversation.

"We haven't hooked up. We're…possibly working together," I lied. "There's no way you're saying anything to anyone until I have something more firm. Do you hear me?"

I heard him loudly exhale as I grabbed an apple from the fridge, deciding it would have to do, and I'd eat it on the way out.

"I know a brush-off when I hear one, but…I know you've been through it lately. And you are clearly a private person. If you really don't want me to use this, I won't yet."

"Yet?" I asked as I grabbed my jacket and keys and headed for the door.

"Yes, yet. I'm your agent, not your friend. At some point, if you're dating Jack Starling or working with him, you need to let me use it. I can do so tactfully. It could seriously boost your career."

"I am going to say this only once, James, so you better listen carefully," I replied. "My relationships, and even my friendships, will never be fodder to earn me more money. I expressly forbid you from using it. Do you understand?"

"Of course, but it's a shame. I really could be tactful, you know."

"No. The answer is no, and it always will be."

"All right. Message received. If you work with him?"

"If I work with him, you'll be the first to know as soon as I feel like I can tell anyone."

"That will have to suffice. But you don't make an agent's job easy," he replied, and I could imagine him pouting as he did.

"You're not getting such a large chunk of my income to have an easy life."

"Good point, my dear. All right. I shall concede this one, but tell me there's more romance coming soon and that we can discuss smoothing out some wrinkles with this TV series."

"Of course. I'll call you later. I have a meeting now, and I was so busy with that romance book you want that I almost forgot about lunch."

"I interrupted you, didn't I?" he asked. I rolled my eyes at the hint of delight he didn't manage to hide.

"You interrupted me, but don't do it again. I'll call you later."

I hung up before he could get me involved in further discussion and quickly hurried to the cafe. I was taking a bit of a roundabout route, not wanting to come from the right direction, and I wasn't driving.

As I walked, I ate the apple and tried not to feel too anxious. I hadn't seen Greg since I'd walked out of my marital home with nothing but a small suitcase full of clothes and toiletries.

One of my friends had picked up the few other belongings that mattered to me after I'd made a list. It sucked, but I didn't care about the stuff as much as I thought I would. If anything, it was a reminder of happier times I didn't need.

Plenty of people were baffled, but I didn't care much about that, either. I had no intention of explaining what happened. They didn't need to know how quickly our relationship had unraveled once I'd started earning more than he did.

I was several minutes late by the time I arrived at the café, and I quickly spotted Greg sitting at one of the small tables near the side of the room. I was grateful he'd picked one a little more out of the way, but not that he sat facing the door. It meant I would have to sit with my back to the door, and he knew I hated that.

I walked up and sat down anyway.

"Sorry I'm late. My agent called as I was getting ready to leave."

"And you couldn't tell him to call back?" Greg demanded before shaking his head. "You know, it won't matter much longer. Here."

He pushed the papers and a pen across to me.

I knew he hoped I'd sign them then and there, but I wasn't about to sign something I hadn't read. After ordering a drink, I sat back and started to read.

It felt a little odd since I knew his eyes were on me as I did so, but I was determined to ignore him until I was done. Quickly, I slipped into a world of lawyer language and the catch-all sentences about little details.

We'd discussed the details, of course. He wasn't pleased that I was trying to get it pushed through so quickly, and we had to state that the relationship had gotten violent as a way to get it done, with no particular finger-pointing. The alternative had been for one of us to confess to an affair, but neither of us had, and it had gotten violent. Even if it had been only him hitting me.

Everything else was split as we'd already hashed out. Thankfully, he wasn't trying to grab my new income. In truth, I wasn't sure he knew how well I was doing, and I didn't plan on telling him.