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It took months for the fanfare to die down.

Mr. Lane had been thrilled he could capitalize on a viral love story. Merch flew off the shelves. Views and streams were through the roof.

He made a boatload of money.

Bought himself that summer home in the Hamptons.

Until, inevitably, the next scandal stole everyone’s attention.

Which was just fine by us.

As it turned out, no one wanted their entire love story aired out for the world to consume, judge, and comment on. I had haters. Silas had haters. Jack, for some reason, had haters. It was a whole thing.

I was okay being a nobody again.

Well, not a nobody.

Because I was now a published author. My agent had capitalized on the fifteen minutes of fame, took my vampire workplace romance, sold it for a small fortune, and got me my dream of being able to walk into a bookstore and see my book on a shelf.

Eventually, I was going to make it my career. But what can I say? This station had its hooks in me. It was hard to move on. But I had a stack of applications to go through. Eventually, someone would get the honor of watering the screaming fern, de-shedding the waiting room, and shaking sage out of the printer.

Just not quite yet.

“You don’t want to know.”

“Well, now you have to tell me.”

“This disturbed woman from Utah believes that she and I are true soulmates. She thinks I should leave you and move with her onto her farm to help her breed her lantern foxes.”

“Farmer Silas. Oh, I like it. Trading in your big city suits for knee-high rubber boots, a cowboy hat, and a wheat stalk stuck between your fangs.”

“Stop enjoying this.”

“Absolutely not. In fact, I think I need to take notes for my next book.”

“You cannot.”

“Why not?”

“Because how would a vampire be a farmer? The sun is toxic, remember?”

“She breeds lantern foxes, remember? They’re nocturnal. I think fictional Silas and—” I snatched the paper out of his hands and scanned it for the signature, “Bertha will be magnificently happy together.”

“I’m afraid I’m already taken,” he said. He set his note down and got to his feet, reaching for my hands.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm. Against my better judgment, I seem to have fallen quite in love with her.”

“She must be a very patient woman. You, Silas Ashford, fought the plot since page one.”

“That may be true, but we did somehow manage to make it to the happy ending.”

His eyes warmed, his gaze slipping to my lips.

But it was just then that someone in the hallway had me straightening, stiffening.

“Oh, no.”