Cruel Fortune (Cruel #2)(12)

I headed into the shower and washed off my long night of writing. After a quick blowout, I hustled from my hotel room to the meeting with Caroline. We were meeting at Norma’s. I was both giddy with excitement, as it was my favorite restaurant in the city, and sick that the only times I’d come here were with Penn. I could practically feel his blue eyes on me as I slipped in from the side entrance of the Parker Hotel, past the bar furnished with red velvet chaises, and into the marble interior of the lobby.

Caroline stood from where she’d been seated on a small wooden bench. “Natalie, so good to finally meet you!”

“Oh my god, Caroline!”

She pulled me in for a hug like we were long-lost friends even though this was our first official meeting. We’d talked on the phone, in text message, and email constantly for the last couple of years, but we hadn’t met up the last time I was in the city, and now, we finally were.

“I’m sure you’re starving,” she said in her thick New York accent. I never got tired of hearing it. She flicked her shoulder-length bleach-blonde hair, whirled a purple scarf over a shoulder, and then looped arms with me. “Let’s go inside and get you a big, hearty lunch.”

The hostess seated us at Caroline’s usual table, and we both shucked off our layers from the cold. After a quick perusal of the menu, I ordered a bagel and lox while Caroline got two eggs, over easy, and a grapefruit.

“Damn diet,” Caroline muttered. She took a long sip of her black coffee. “My husband will know if I get the waffle.”

“You should definitely get the waffle,” I said with a smile.

She waved her hand. “Another time. Now, how does it feel? You’re a published author now.”

“Amazing and terrifying. Not quite real yet,” I added.

“That all sounds completely normal. I’m so glad to be the one to get this book into the right hands. It’s one that needs to be read.”

“Thank you.” I flushed and took a sip of my own coffee.

“So, tell me about the new book. What do you have in the pipeline?”

“Well,” I said, meeting her steely dark gaze, “it’s not what I thought it would be.”

“That happens.”

“It’s not exactly…an Olivia book.”

Caroline merely arched an eyebrow.

“It’s a literary novel about a family and their relationships. How different paths shape who they become. It’s not exactly commercial, like Bet on It.”

“All right. I’m listening.”

I took a deep breath and told her the whole story. Everything that I had worked out for the new novel and how easily it was coming to me. Caroline nodded along the whole time, but I couldn’t exactly judge her on it.

“And I’m so obsessed with the story. But I don’t want to publish it as Olivia. I want to publish it as me. As Natalie. I feel like Olivia is great for the kind of book I wrote, when the true story aspect was behind it, but I don’t want to hide behind Olivia forever.”

“Look, Natalie,” Caroline said, plunking her mug down on the table, “the people at Warren, they love you. You’re a rock star for them. I’m sure they’d publish anything of yours. But you have to decide if it’s Olivia or Natalie. For the long haul.”

I swallowed and nodded. “Right.”

“It’s nothing personal. It’s just business. They’re going to want your book, but they spent a lot of money building you up. Olivia has starred reviews in journals, and hopefully, you’ll hit a major best-seller list. That’s something they can use. If you write as Natalie, then you start over. You’re another debut. Unless, of course, you out the pen name.”

“No,” I said at once. That was a hard no. The last thing I wanted was for the rest of the crew to get a whiff of who I really was or what I’d written about them.

“So, long-term, choosing one or the other is going to be the way to go.”

“Okay.” I didn’t really like that answer, but there it was.

Natalie or Olivia?

The books I really wanted to write or the one that had brought me success?

Lord help me that I made the right choice.





Natalie





5





My stomach was in knots. I stood outside of my hotel with Amy and Enzo. He kept sliding his hand to her ass, rippling the red sequined material. She’d swat at him and giggle. And I just stood there, wringing my hands and trying to decide if I’d made a mistake.

“Stop fidgeting,” Amy muttered. She knocked her hip into me, and I teetered on my strappy black heels. “He’ll be here.”

“Uncertain if that’s the problem or not.”

But I didn’t have more time to overanalyze that as a black limo slid up to the front of the hotel.

“Told you,” Amy said under her breath.

The back door opened, and every delectable inch of Lewis Warren stepped out of the backseat in a tailored three-piece suit. I swallowed hard and took a small step forward in response.

“Fuck,” Amy said next to me.

Yeah. Fuck.

His dark eyes slid up the slinky royal-blue dress that hugged all my curves in all the right places, taking me in like a feast he was prepared to devour. A sensual smile tilted his lips as he straightened to his considerable height. He exuded confidence that had been born from years of getting everything he had ever wanted. He wore it like a second skin. And I loved as much as hated how good he looked with the considerable arrogance and charm wafting off of him.