The Decoy Girlfriend(96)

“Actually, we might need to amend it one more time,” says Taft.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” exclaims Gareth.

Taft continues like he didn’t hear him. “Moira, about that indie offer? I want to take it. If they want us so badly for the Banshee sequels that they agreed to everything we asked for, then I’d say we have enough leverage to ask them to work around other commitments if needed. And Mandi and I—there isn’t going to be a Mandi and I.”

“Excuse me?” Gareth sputters.

Taft ignores him. “We’ll do whatever promo they need, but we aren’t going to pretend to be anything more than what we are.” He glances at her and smiles. “Best friends.”

“You don’t speak for my client,” says Gareth.

“No, I don’t,” Taft says easily. “But neither do you.”

“Gareth,” says Mandi. She takes the phone from Taft and holds it up to her face, staring her manager down. “If you aren’t as invested in respecting my well-being as I am, then we need to part ways.”

“Mandi, you’re not thinking clearly. I have been with you since the beginning. I made you.”

“No, Gareth, you didn’t. I made me. You always tried to make me less myself. I appreciate all the work you’ve done on the Banshee contract, but as soon as this is over please start the process to end our professional relationship. I plan to seek new representation as soon as contractually possible.”

He sneers, then exits the call without another word.

“Good for you,” says Moira, addressing Mandi. “I have no doubt you’ll have plenty of interest, but I’m more than happy to put together introductions for you with any of my colleagues at Lord and Fine.”

“I’m not going to rush into a decision this time around,” says Mandi, “but thank you, I would appreciate that.”

Moira slides her eyes back to Taft. “I’m guessing you meant everything you said, and it wasn’t just to piss off Gareth?”

He doesn’t use his words lightly. “I meant every word,” he confirms. “This is what I want.”

Moira studies him for a long moment, like there’s something there she’s never seen before. “Okay, then. We’ll shoot our shot.”



* * *



—

Freya’s been up since six working on her agent’s edit letter, which landed soon after their call. Most of Alma’s feedback is micro, line-level stuff. She’s also caught a passage where Freya used the same word six times in two sentences, which is mortifying, but instead of letting it send her into a spiral, Freya laughs it off and moves on.

While eating comfort Chinese takeout last night, Stori had protested her diving right back into her regular shifts at the bookshop, but when she comes downstairs this morning to see Freya wearing a name tag of her own, with her actual name on it, she tears up and keeps the coffee coming to help Freya power through revising.

“Hey, you’re actually writing and not just staring off into the distance with your thinking-about-Manny-Jacinto-in-a-rom-com face,” says Stori when she comes back to officially open up the bookshop a few hours later.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t been replaced by a pod person,” says Freya, who is on her third Bialetti espresso and chocolate-filled croissant. “I’ve penciled in my Manny Jacinto time for later.”

“Don’t forget about Sebastian and Richard. Don’t want them to get jealous,” Stori tosses over her shoulder.

Freya grins and gets back to work, not paying attention to whoever comes in a few minutes later. From experience, she knows that anyone coming in this early doesn’t need help and will know exactly what they’re looking for and where to find it.

“Hi, I need a book.”

The familiar phrase knocks her off-kilter so quickly that her entire body jerks, her hands almost knocking her laptop off the counter.

Taft Bamber stands in front of her wearing a crisp shirt, a hopeful smile, and an empty tote bag slung on his shoulder. “I’m not in a rush this time.”

She rights the laptop, but it’s considerably harder to right the rest of her, her heart flinging itself toward Taft the second she sees him. “Are you here because you miss me or because you know what you want?”

Taft tilts his head. “Both.” His gaze is intense, like he’s drinking in the sight of her even though they were only apart for a day. “I’m sorry. I should never have said what I did. Never have let you leave like that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” she says coolly. “But I understand why you did.”

“You were right. I don’t want to compromise when it comes to how I feel about you.”

Hope surges in her chest, but she tamps it back down. She doesn’t want him to see how she feels until she knows where he stands. “What about the sequels? You told me you were going to take the offer.”

“And I am,” says Taft. “But on my terms. Let’s just say I redlined the contract a lot. Especially one particular clause that, if I’m being honest, I was never too thrilled about and should have pushed back on from the beginning.”

“One clause.” She lets that sink in. “And it’s gone now?”

He nods, coming closer. “So this is me coming to find you.”