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CHAPTER THREE
DAPHNE
Chris Ainsworth Pros/Cons
Note to self: When he’s getting on your nerves, read this.
Cons
1. OMG, this guy is such an asshole.
2. Fine, “asshole” goes a bit far. He’s arrogant. Also intrusive, pretentious, dismissive, self-centered.
Pros
1. My publisher loves him.
2. His arrogance doesn’t seem to negatively affect the marketing. In fact, it seems to help, as if everyone expects Zane to be a prick.
3. He makes me laugh, even if he isn’t trying to.
4. Fine, he’s a hot guy who takes hot photos. Yes, I’m shallow.
Semi-Con
1. He hasn’t read the @$%! book. Okay, this is ego, isn’t it? I’m hurt that he hasn’t even skimmed it. He has nothing but praise for it in interviews. Considering he supposedly wrote the book, the praise is kinda weird, but again, it seems to be what they expect.
2. So this isn’t really a “con.” It just kinda stings. When that happens, reread those starred reviews that Nia edited to include MY name. I wrote the book. Remember that.
MAY 10, THREE DAYS TO PUBLICATION
Daphne gripped the sides of the toilet bowl and focused on the feel of the cool porcelain as her stomach threatened to heave again.
Just three days, and it would be over.
No, three days and it would begin. Real people would read her book and post reviews and tell her she sucked. Or they wouldn’t read her book, and the publisher would have a warehouse of unsold copies and her career would be over before it began.
Daphne leaned over the bowl as her stomach bucked.
“D? You still there?”
She opened one watery eye and struggled to focus on the cell phone perched on the back of her toilet, speaker icon lit.
She made a noise Chris could take as assent.
“Good,” he said. “I really needed someone to talk to about this. I had no idea it would be so stressful playing Zane. I know you’re excited. Everything is great for you. You wrote the book and your job is over, and now you can just sit back and reap the rewards.”
She glared daggers at the phone. Beside her, Tika growled.
“Is that your stomach?” Chris asked.
Chris didn’t wait for a response. He didn’t need one. The man could carry on a conversation all by himself. Last week, she’d made the mistake of saying he could call to discuss his growing workload, so now he called. Also texted. And emailed. But mostly called.
He didn’t need anything—this was the calm before the storm. But he was dealing with a lot of stress from the release of this book that he did not write and had not even read.
Daphne could feign cell-service issues, but she didn’t actually mind these calls. She could listen to him fret and fuss and tell her how she must be so excited, and the overwhelming urge to strangle him long-distance gave her something to focus on besides her utter terror as her publication date approached.
“The phone interviews are getting kinda stressful,” he said.
