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She pitches my book to him and asks if he wants to be the voice of Xero. Then my stomach drops when he agrees to do it for free, in exchange for a percentage of the royalties.
I hold my tongue, not wanting to make a scene in front of the expanding crowd, but when BJ moves on to take photos with a big-name author, I yank Myra to the side.
“What the fuck was that about?” I hiss.
“Relax,” she says. “I know what I’m doing.”
“The Xero book isn’t happening, and you can’t just give away a chunk of my royalties.”
She glances over her shoulder before leaning in close. “Do you know how many authors would sell their soul to work with Big Dick Johnson?”
I steal another look at the man. Beneath the snappy suit and red paint, there’s a five-ten, balding, nice guy type with an average face and a build marginally better than Gavin’s.
“He’s nothing special,” I mutter.
“BJ has the most panty-melting voice in the business and a fanbase who will buy anything he produces.”
“But he agreed to voice a book that will never be published,” I snarl.
“Having Big Dick Johnson in your corner will guarantee your chances of success,” she says with a dismissive wave. “Any book he voices will reach the top of the charts.”
The rest of the day is a blur. Myra introduces me to countless influential figures in the book industry: critics, bloggers, PR company owners, editors, and authors whose books grace the charts. I lose track of who’s who, who does what, and who I need to impress. One thing is consistent: everyone wants to read the Xero manuscript.
At lunchtime, two reps from a large publishing house take us out for sushi to discuss a potential deal. Myra gets them excited with talk about my nearly completed manuscript, and I have to interrupt before the conversation goes too far.
I pitch my paranormal ghost romance, but they’re only interested in Xero. When I bring up the fact that I might be working on something else with Big Dick Johnson, they ask for a synopsis.
For the rest of the day, I sign autographs, get pulled into selfies, and make online videos with people Myra says will help rebuild my new account.
My head spins. I knew I had a large social media following, but nothing seemed real until Jake appeared on my doorstep. Being recognized by people in the book industry makes me think I might have a career as a writer.
At the end of the evening, I’m ready to go home, but BJinvites us to the Capello Casino to discussour potential collaboration.
Myra accepts his invitation before I can suggest we do a video call, and we exit the town hall, where BJ leads us to a stretch limo and disappears inside.
My phone chooses that moment to buzz. I glance at the nearest lamppost, wondering if there’s enough light on the street to repel Xero. It’s a wonder that he’s been quiet the entire day.
As Myra follows BJ into the limo, I grab her arm. “Let’s go back to my place.”
“Are you seeing things again?” she asks with a frown.
I shake my head. “No, but–”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“This doesn’t feel right. Whoever has a business meeting in a casino?”
Her eyes soften. “This won’t be like the other times. I swear. We’ll go straight to the bar and stay for a few cocktails. You can pitch your ghost book, and we’ll leave together. Alright?”
BJ pops his head out of the limo door, his eyebrows etched with concern. “What’s the hold up? Are we going to discuss this audiobook or not?”
“Coming!” Myra grabs my hand and pulls me into the limousine.
Its interior is white leather with wood trim and a minibar tucked into a corner. Jazz filters through the speakers, and BJ lounges on a plush seat, pouring champagne into a flute.
On his other side is a bulky blond man wearing a gray sweater. His eyes light up, and he scoots across the leather seat and pats the space beside it. “Amethyst, sit here.”
My brows pull together, and I sit opposite. “Um…”
