Fall For Me Again Page 7

  “I won’t say a word,” I said. My mind was reeling. That sort of money could really help fix my mom and dad’s money situation. Especially if it became a regular sort of paycheck. All I needed to do, in theory, was to keep writing books.

  Books that Treo wanted to sell.

  “You look overwhelmed,” Dallas said. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded slowly. “Yes. I’m just… surprised is all. I didn’t expect this. It’s so—”

  “It’s what you deserve, Elise. You’re an excellent writer. Always have been. I know there’s no risk with you. You’re worth the high price tag.”

  That might have been the nicest thing Dallas had ever said to me. And I couldn’t think of a damn thing to say back to him besides a very weak, “Thank you.”

  “Do you need time to think about it?”

  I nodded. “I’ll let you know by the end of the week.”

  “All right. Sounds good to me. Winzly will be up your ass about this, by the way. She’s going to push you to sign with us.”

  “I know.”

  As we talked about Winzly and the publishing agency, our food arrived. We ate and talked about work and only work. I wasn’t diving into our history. Not right now. Hopefully not ever.

  By the time we were done eating and Dallas slapped his credit card on the table, it was nine o’clock. And I had a hell of a lot to think about.

  Dallas walked me out and offered to drive me home after he paid. I declined and said I had my own way home. I watched him get in his shiny black car and drive away. Then I started walking home, my head spinning.

  If I accepted the offer to publish under Treo, I would be agreeing to work alongside Dallas Jansen for who knew how long. I wasn’t sure I could mentally or emotionally handle that.

  Or physically endure it.

  My nipples were already straining against my bra, and my panties were wet. He was going to be responsible for several loads of laundry a week if this kept up.

  Chapter 11

  Dallas

  I was back at work early on Tuesday morning, which sucked because I’d woken up with a hard on after dreaming about Elise, and I hadn’t had a chance to, well, take care of it.

  Sitting behind my desk was more irritating than usual.

  When someone knocked on my door for the fourth time that morning, I groaned and closed my eyes. I considered telling them to leave. I had a lot of work to do and not a lot of time to do it. I had no interest in staying late to get shit done. I wanted to spend the night with my son. Roy had told me this morning before school that he missed me, and I missed the hell out of him too, even though it had only been twenty-four hours.

  But work was work, and I knew I couldn’t turn someone away from my door.

  “Yes, come in.”

  Elijah poked his head in.

  I sighed with relief. “Oh, thank God it’s only you. Close the door behind you.” I finished writing the email I’d been about to send off as Elijah took a seat. Once I hit send, I looked up at him. “What’s up?”

  “I wanted to know how your meeting went last night.”

  “It… went.”

  “What does that mean?” Elijah asked curiously.

  “It means that the writer was Elise.”

  Elijah leaned forward. “Billingsly?”

  “Yes. One and the same.”

  “What the hell, man? What did you do?”

  I shrugged. “I pitched her the job.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Why not?”

  “Uh, because she’s your ex-girlfriend and she hates your guts as much as your dad hates hers.”

  I cleared my throat and shifted in my seat. “All good points.”

  “But not good enough for you to turn her away apparently.”

  Elijah didn’t know the personal tidbit of information Elise had shared with me over dinner. Her family needed money. I wasn’t going to run around spreading that news like wildfire. Not that I thought Elijah would abuse the information, but I didn’t want to betray her trust. Monetary issues were, and should always be, private. Especially when they were someone else’s, not your own.

  The meeting with Elise last night had been at the forefront of my mind all morning. I couldn’t help but run through the events of dinner in my head over, and over, and over again. I wondered if I’d said anything wrong. I had a tendency to do that, especially where Elise was concerned.

  When I spiraled too deep into the rabbit hole, I managed to pull myself out by reminding my inner critic that Elise was not the sort of woman to keep her mouth shut if she were offended. She would have told me if anything I did pissed her off.

  At least, the Elise I used to know would have.

  I was pretty sure she hadn’t changed all that much. She was still just as witty and clever as she had always been; and as beautiful. Sitting with her over dinner had almost felt like the old days, when life wasn’t so complicated, and all we had to worry about was whether or not we’d be able to get a ticket to the late night showing of whatever movie had been released at the local theater that weekend.

  I missed the simpler days.

  A lot.

  I missed sleeping in and having someone to wrap my arm around in the morning. I missed lazy afternoons and sharing a hot shower with a woman. I missed my wife.

  Elijah drummed his fingers on the table.

  “She’s a good writer, man,” I said, realizing I’d zoned out in my own thoughts about Elise. “Always has been. I never knew she wanted to pursue it like this, but hey, if she wants to throw her lot in with us, I’m not going to turn her away. I have a good feeling about her. She might be the breakout star we need. And we might be her opportunity to make it in this industry. It’s equally good for us both.”

  “Dude, your dad loathes her.”

  “For moronic reasons,” I said.

  “Whatever reasons they are, they’re his own, and they’re valid in his mind. And he sort of runs the show. Or have you forgotten?”

  I scowled at him. “No, I haven’t forgotten.”

  “You sure? Because it sure as shit feels like you have. Your dad would blow his lid if he found out Elise was the writer Winzly wanted to hire. He’d fucking fire you, Dallas.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe.”

  Elijah shook his head at me. “Well, clearly you’ve thought this through.”

  I shrugged. “Don’t worry about me. I can handle my dad.”

  Elijah rubbed his temples. “I just hope you’re looking to hire her for the right reasons. Not because, you know, you two have history. She has no interest in you. Not after high school. Make sure you keep that at the forefront of your mind.”

  I nodded. “Thanks for the reminder.”

  “Sorry, I just—”

  Another knock on the door. Son of a bitch. “What?”

  The door opened and in strode my father. Today, he was wearing a navy suit with a black tie and pocket square. He was a little overdressed for the office, but there was no sense in pointing that out.

  My dad nodded curtly at Elijah and faced me. “How did it go last night? I’ve been waiting for you to call.”

  “It went well. I didn’t call because I don’t have an answer yet. She wants to think it over. It’s a big decision for her, and she wasn’t expecting an offer so soon.”

  My father frowned. “She didn’t bite right away?”

  “No.”

  Elijah was looking back and forth between us. He stood up slowly, like he was trying to avoid us seeing his six-foot-two frame inching toward the door. “I’m gonna go. I have lots of work to do. Talk to you later, Dallas. Mr. Jansen.” He nodded at my father politely.

  My dad ignored Elijah and remained mute until my office door closed behind my friend. When we were alone, he spoke again. “Did she tell you why she needs to think about it?”

  “No.”

  “You didn’t ask? How can you overcome her objections when you don’t know what they are?”

  “She’s sk
ittish, Dad. Trust me. I know what I’m doing. She’ll sign.”

  My father sighed and shook his head. “You worry me sometimes, Dallas. If she isn’t biting, you need to pull her in. Give her no reason to say no. Take her out on the town for an evening. Show her the lifestyle she could have if she works with us.”

  “She grew up here. I don’t think—”

  “Show her,” my father insisted.

  I backed down. “All right. If you insist.” If my father had any idea that he was telling me to take Elise Billingsly out around Bar Harbor, he would have had a stroke right there in my office. It would have almost been a fitting way for him to die—in his old office. People used to tell him this job would kill him one day with how hard he worked.

  “I do insist,” he said.

  “All right,” I said again. We were verging on bickering, and as a grown-ass man, I had no interest in duking it out with my father like this.

  He sat down. I groaned inwardly as he clasped his hands on my desk. “Does she seem as promising as Winzly made her out to be? Do you think there might be real money there?”

  My father, always zoning in on the bottom line. “Yes,” I said. “She shows a lot of promise.”

  “Good. I would hate to think you were wasting your time on a weak writer Winzly plucked from the crowd.”

  “You know Winzly isn’t like that. She knows her stuff.”

  He shrugged. “You can never be too cautious.”

  “Caution is unnecessary. Winzly has never steered us wrong. She’s never cost this company money. She’s a straight shooter, and she knows the business better than anyone.”

  “Not anyone,” my father said, clicking his tongue at me.

  I forced myself not to roll my eyes. “Besides you,” I said.

  He gave me a smug smile and sat a little straighter. “That’s more like it. I should probably get out of your hair. I imagine you have important work to do.”

  He probably would have preferred to say he hoped I had important work to do, but even he didn’t have the nerve to be that blunt.

  I stood when he did and walked him to my door. “Thanks for stopping by, Dad. Like I said, I’ll keep you posted on how things go.”

  “Just make sure you show her a good time, Dallas. She should have no reason to say no. And you’ve always been good at swaying people in your favor. Especially the ladies.”

  “Dad,” I warned. That was pushing things.

  He chuckled and grabbed my shoulder, shaking me in that rough but fatherly way he used to. “All good humor, son. Don’t get your panties in a bunch about it.” He patted my cheek; well, sort of slapped it in an almost affectionate way.

  It still stung.

  Then he made his way down the hall. I saw people come out of their offices, going about their usual business, and when they saw him coming, they ducked back into the depths of their safe places and waited for him to leave.

  I wished I had that luxury.

  But he’d find me no matter where I buried my head in the sand. And he’d make it look effortless.

  Chapter 12

  Elise

  Matthew ran his thumb along the line of his jaw while he studied her. She blushed and looked down at her lap.

  “Why are you staring at me?”

  Matthew smiled, and her heart fluttered. He had the sort of smile that made a girl weak in the knees; a smile that screamed he was the one. The one to take home to mom and dad, to cook meals for, to worship while on your knees with your mouth open, ready for him.

  “I’m not allowed to admire your beauty?” Matthew asked after a beat.

  She swallowed as heat rose up inside her. “Stop it.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Try harder.”

  He smirked. “What if I don’t want to?”

  “It’s not always about what you want, Dallas.”

  I blinked at my screen and the little flashing cursor at the end of the last word I’d typed.

  Dallas.

  How the hell had that happened? Had I seriously just switched out Matthew’s name for Dallas’s?

  I slapped my laptop closed and scowled at it like it was somehow to blame.

  I did not need this sort of shit right now. I was trying to finish this damn book, and now, all of a sudden, every time I closed my eyes to picture my hunky male lead, the inside of my eyelids were assaulted with flashes of Dallas sitting across from me at the dinner table last night.

  Everything about him had been perfection.

  His stubble was close shaven, dark, and rugged in a clean sort of way. His hair had been carelessly swept back off his forehead, framing his face and brown eyes. The suit he had on flattered his athletic body, and it had been hard to sit across from him and picture him as nothing more than my potential employer. Not when my body wanted so much more from him.

  So. Much. More.

  Apparently, I wanted him enough that now he was appearing in my book. My precious, wonderful, it-belongs-to-me-and-nobody-else book. He’d tainted it without even lifting a finger.

  All because I couldn’t keep it in my pants.

  I let out a frustrated groan and got to my feet to pad around my apartment. I lit a couple of candles and breathed deeply as the rich scent of cinnamon filled my place. Sometimes, candles were all a girl needed to get her head on straight again.

  Who was I kidding? I was still thinking about Dallas.

  I was thinking about being under him, pinned down by his powerful arms, held in place by his legs on either side of mine as he lowered himself with agonizing slowness to nip at my lips and shower me in sweet, soft kisses.

  I shook my head. “Get a grip, Elise. This is getting ridiculous.”

  A buzz from my intercom was the reprieve from my thoughts that I needed. I rushed over and held the button down. “Come on up, Kate.”

  I waited for the green light to turn on before releasing the buzzer and unlocking my front door so she could let herself in. Then I poured myself a glass of ice water. I chopped up a lemon and dropped a wedge in the glass, and I prepared another for Kate.

  Then I sat down at my kitchen counter and sipped it daintily. The ice nipped at my lips, and for a split second, I pretended it was Dallas.

  He was going to be the death of me. I couldn’t understand how my mind was so consumed with him when I truly resented everything about him, everything he had done, and who we used to be. I was over it. I had closed that chapter of my life and moved on without looking back for years, and now all of a sudden here I was, thrust back into his life, wishing I could go back to how things used to be just last week.

  Back when Dallas Jansen was the farthest thing from my mind. When my body wasn’t aching for his touch.

  My door opened, and I glanced up as Kate came in. She was bundled up in a thick green sweater and a black scarf. She kept it on as she came and stood at the edge of the counter. She took a sip of water and shivered. “It’s so freaking cold out there.”

  “Fall is here,” I said.

  She nodded. “How did it go last night? I’ve been thinking about it all day, and it’s driving me nuts.”

  “It didn’t really go how I wanted it to,” I confessed.

  Kate frowned. “Uh oh. What does that mean?”

  I sighed. “It means that the publishing company is Dallas’s company.”

  “Jansen?” she asked.

  I nodded. “You know it.”

  “Oh. Shit.” She dropped down onto the stool beside me. “I’m sorry, Elise. But other opportunities will come along. You can’t let that arrogant asshat determine whether or not you’re going to be a published writer or not. You can—”

  “Kate,” I said, holding up a hand and smiling at her. I appreciated her instant willingness to trash talk Dallas. “He didn’t turn me away. He wants to sign me.”

  Kate looked as surprised as I’d been when I saw Dallas sitting at that booth last night. “He did?”

  “Yes, and in terms of business, it went well. There�
��s serious money I could be making. Money that would change things completely for Mom and Dad. And for us.”

  Kate shifted in her chair, which creaked softly beneath her. “You should be thinking about how it could change things for you. The rest of us will figure things out.”

  I shook my head but didn’t comment. Kate would always come from the standpoint that my money was my money, and I should spend it in ways to benefit my life. I would always look at it as something I would share with the people I loved who needed it. No matter what.

  “Can you tell me what kind of money we’re talking about here?” Kate asked. “I understand if you want to keep it to yourself, but I can’t help it. I’m curious.”

  “Eighty grand.”

  Her eyes widened. “Holy shit.”

  “Minimum,” I said.

  “Holy shit!”

  I nodded. “I know. I think he was in my corner. He gave me some advice he probably shouldn’t and told me to ask for more money than that. I think if his dad knew he’d told me, he’d have Dallas’s head delivered to his mansion on a silver platter.”

  “Sounds like his dad,” Kate said grimly.

  “He’s giving me until the end of the week to make my decision.”

  “And?” Kate asked eagerly. “Do you know what you want to do?”

  I shook my head. “I have no freaking clue.”

  “Have you made a pros and cons list?”

  I snickered. “No, Kate. I haven’t. This seems too big to be settled with a pros and cons list.”

  “Uh, nothing is too big for a pros and cons list. You should write one out later. It will help you look at things more objectively. For example, on the one hand, you’d be making a shit ton of money. But on the other hand—”

  “I’d be working with Dallas Jansen.”

  Kate winced. “Yeah, exactly.”

  I whimpered and hung my head. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  “Do you trust him?”

  I met her eye. It was a good question. “I don’t know.”