Fearless, Abby Brooks [leveled readers .txt] 📗

We weren’t going to talk about me breaking in and we weren’t going to talk about the kiss. She wanted answers about work. From this point forward, I’d keep things professional because the stress couldn’t be good for my creativity.

I sat back and crossed my ankle over my knee. “I hired you to tell me what my editors won’t. They think my brand’s big enough to keep me safe. That my name will sell books, even if they aren’t up to my standard. And because I’m so late with this story, they’re only going to tell me it’s wonderful, so I’ll finish the draft. I want someone who isn’t in that world to tell me what I needed to hear.”

That was only partly true. The reality was that I’d decided to hire her because I wanted access to her kitchen. The rest was just icing. My father would be so proud of me, sacrificing everyone else’s needs for my own.

“You wanna know what I think?” Evie folded her hands in her lap and lifted her chin.

“I’d love to know what you think. Let me into that marvelous mind.”

A grin lit her face and she stood. “I think you’re in a rut, Mr. Prescott. I think you’ve written the same kind of books with the same kind of characters while living in the same house with the same people in the same town for too long.”

I blinked. “Is that so?”

“I think you hired me because you need something different.”

Well, shit. Maybe she was better at this than I thought she’d be. Every time I was around her, the story unlocked. Did that happen simply because she was a breath of fresh air in my stale life? Is that why it had been easier to write in this kitchen than my office at home? “And what do you suggest I do about that?”

She laughed. “You do realize I have no idea what I’m talking about and am still fighting a hangover, right?”

“You’re also making some good points.” I waved a hand. “Do continue.”

Evie’s gaze raked over me, her curiously brilliant eyes scrutinizing every aspect of my face and body. “I guess we need to break you out of your habits. Get you doing new things. Meeting new people. How can you write compelling characters in interesting predicaments if you’re living the same humdrum existence, day in and day out? When was the last time you had something new happen?”

I stared at the something new in question until her cheeks blazed.

“See?” she whispered. “You need things shaken up.”

Her words rattled around in my head, making more sense by the minute. She had a point and I needed to listen. “Your job description just expanded to include knocking me out of this rut so I can write again. And…go.”

“Now?” Her eyebrows hit her hairline. “You want me to start now?”

“You just read my manuscript and told me it was shit. What else are you gonna do? Drop the mic and walk out of the room?”

“It’s not shit….”

“If you don’t stop placating me, I’ll remind you how many times you sexually harassed me last night.” So much for keeping it professional.

Evie’s jaw dropped and her cheeks pinked. “About that…”

“You said my eyes are warm like whiskey. And that we had a connection. And then you kiss—”

“Fine!” She put a finger to my lips. “I won’t placate you ever again. And as far as your rut goes…” She glanced around the room as if the answers were written on the walls. “I guess I’ll need to know what it looks like first. Show me your daily routine. Let me experience the rut with you so I know what to avoid.”

I liked the way her finger felt on my mouth way too much. It made me want to kiss her again, which I’d already decided was not gonna happen, so I opted to give her a hard time instead. “Wow, Evie.” I folded my arms across my chest. “I gave you a pass on the sexual harassment last night because you were drunk. I’m not sure what to do about it today.”

She rocked back, head tilted as if listening to the playback of her statement.

Her confusion was adorable, which was why I couldn’t stop myself from doubling down. “Maybe we should just call the whole thing off, if this is how you’re gonna be.”

“I don’t…I mean…I thought…” She put her hands on her hips. “What are you talking about?”

“You basically just asked me to date you. Dinner. Drinks. Long walks on the beach. Sounds like the most cliched version of dating out there.”

Realization landed. “And that’s how you generally spend your time.”

“Ten points for the lady with the pretty face.”

“I promise you; I’m not interested in cliches of any kind. Particularly the one where the girl loses her fancy job in the city, moves to a small town, and makes out with her boss on her front porch.” The blush in her cheeks and darting gaze said otherwise.

That shouldn’t have excited me as much as it did.

“If I can’t write, I’m screwed and you’re out of a job, which means you’re also screwed. In my opinion, the faster we get a move on, the better for both of us.” I stood and gathered my things. “I’m gonna pop back to my house and take a shower while you get ready. Feel free to come on over when you’re done. I’ll leave the door unlocked. Just let yourself in.”

With that, I bounded outside and crossed our yards, humming to myself the whole way. Morgan greeted me, tail wagging while Larry climbed my pantleg. “Tell you what boys,” I said as I carefully unhooked murder mittens from my jeans, “today is shaping up to be one hell of a day.”

Chapter Fourteen

Evie

Alex closed my front door behind him, and I dropped to my couch with a sigh.

What kind of weird rollercoaster was I on? Lose Drew, gain Sugar Maple Hill. Lose a job, gain Alex and his friends here