Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 61160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
“Are you leaving anything out of your family’s medical history?” He looked into my eyes. “Anything at all?”
“I told you everything already,” I said. “My mom had high blood pressure, and my dad had seizures sometimes. That’s it.”
He rubbed my sides. “How did they die, Chloe?”
“The coroner claimed it was a car accident,” I said. “That’s what everyone thinks to this day. I know it was a joint suicide, though.”
He raised his eyebrow.
“My dad was losing his mind,” I said. “First it was little things, not remembering his keys, going to the store and forgetting groceries, things like that. But then he started forgetting major things—who I was, who my mom was—and as a joke, he would make these birthday scavenger hunts for me, telling me to worry about my own brain instead of his.”
I briefly shut my eyes, remembering the last morning I saw his face. “The doctors wanted to have him committed to a home, but he couldn’t fathom that, and my mother couldn’t fathom living without him—whether he was all there or not— so…They followed a fuel truck on the expressway, got a little too close and, well…”
He wiped my falling tears with his fingertips, staying quiet.
“It wasn’t an accident,” I said. “I refuse to accept that.”
Tyler hugged me a bit tighter.
“What about your mother?” I looked at him. “I never researched the details out of respect, so if you’d rather not discuss it, I understand.”
“It actually was a car accident,” he said. “Some overzealous press were following her on the motorway like they always did. Long after she’d announced that she was leaving the royal life, they still followed her every move, and one evening, they got a little too close and ran into her. She died on the scene, and they never even issued an apology.”
“Is that why you hate the media so much?”
“Part of it. The other part is my family and how they could easily trust them again. They should’ve shut every last one of them after that, not used them like some sort of game.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Do you think your mom is happy with your decision?”
“I’m sure she’s ecstatic.” He kissed my forehead, pulling a blanket over me. “She would’ve liked you.”
“Crappy apartment and all?”
“I would’ve never let her see your apartment.” He laughed and pushed the hair off my forehead. “I know you’re going to fight me on this, but I’m not letting you break bedrest. You’ll have to miss whatever is on the calendar, maybe even the gala. I’ll take pictures for you, okay?”
“Bedrest is only four weeks.” I’d already spun my options when the doctor spoke. “The gala is in four weeks and a day. I can make that one.”
“We’ll see. You could spend your time here working on the campaigns for our top releases this month.”
“I’m already finished with that,” I said. “Guaranteed bestsellers for your first official launch.”
“Just one?”
“At least four.”
He smiled. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
Making Moves
Tyler
Seattle, Washington
Tyler Carrington II Nabs First Four NYT & Sunday Times Bestsellers as Co-CEO of Rogue Publishing
Heiress Hazel Swift Spotted with Prince Carrington Again, Employees Mum on Affair
Rogue Publishing to Host “Gala to Remember,” Carrington Vows to Throw a True Party
Who’s the New COO With All The Secrets? Heiress & Prince Share a Former Assistant, Chloe March
Assumptions
Chloe
Seattle, Washington
22 weeks & 6 days pregnant
Bedrest was for the birds.
I could only do so much from home, only read so many things on my back before wanting to get up and walk.
Unfortunately, Zoey watched my every move like a hawk and sent Tyler updates whenever I tried to sneak in additional walks.
So far, I’d missed out on almost every profile publishing event, and my heart ached with every “Sorry we missed you” basket my coworkers sent the following day.
There was the Young Adult convention, a special mystery and thrillers dinner, Annual Pitch Day (my favorite), and I was a little over two weeks away from missing the highly anticipated gala where Tyler promised to soften the blow by using my sketches for decor inspiration.
I made a mental note to space out these events in the coming years, so that this would never happen to anyone else sentenced to bedrest.
As I was watching a recorded version of the YA convention, Tyler walked through the front door.
“Well?” I sat up on the couch. “What did I miss on the annual pitch day? Don’t make it hurt too badly, please.”
He smiled, taking his precious time to unbutton his blazer. Then he loosened his tie.
“Seriously?” I crossed my arms. “Tell me which pitches were accepted and rejected, which titles we’re pushing for the spring, and which new authors are getting the big debut packages.”
“We postponed the meeting for another month.”
“What? Why?”
“Because a certain someone needs to be there, and it’s unfair that the most enthusiastic person doesn’t get a seat at the table, all because she’s under the weather.”