“I am.”
“No one likes your poetry; they like your attention.”
His eyes darken. “The poetry is brilliant and beautiful. You would know if you had any taste.”
I shake my head. “I can’t believe that’s your reason for wanting this contract. To woo readers with your face rather than your words.”
“That’s not my reason.”
“Oh? Enlighten me then.”
“I don’t need to enlighten you. My reasons are none of your business.”
“What you mean is your reasons are superficial.”
He scoffs. “Hardly.”
“Then what could possibly be so important?—”
“My sister.” He says the words so fiercely that it takes me a moment to process them. Then he snaps his mouth shut, eyes widening at his own confession. His jaw tightens as he looks away from me and leans against the bookcase. “I have a sister named Cassie,” he says, his tone level despite the frustration etched over his face. “I am her sole guardian. We have a mountain of debt, but it’s all in her name. I worked several jobs to pay it down, but it wasn’t enough. The sale ofA Portrait of Junesaved her from being taken to the workhouse, but some of our debts remain. If we don’t pay it off this year, we won’t be able to afford her college tuition.”
If he was looking for pity, I daresay he’s snagged mine. If he’s her sole guardian, their parents must have either abandoned them or died. Furthermore, it crushes my soul to think a woman interested in furthering her education might be robbed of the opportunity. “She could always get a job,” I say but am unable to hide my grimace. It’s not like I have experience with traditional employment.
And there, a well of guilt opens wide in my chest.
I may have struggled in my career and faced my share of injustice, but I can’t say I’ve lived an unprivileged life. My eldestbrother funded my years at college. While I pay for my own apartment and day-to-day expenses, I always have the family estate to return to if things get bad. I’d be considered my parents’ property and would have to fall in line with their rules, meaning marriage and relinquishing my career. Still, while it may be a fate I abhor, it isn’t the worst one I could possibly have.
“I don’t want her getting a job,” William says. “She…she isn’t well. The types of employment available to a young woman without a college education are likely to prove too exhausting for her constitution. More importantly, I want her to live her dream while she has time?—”
“There you two are,” Daphne says, slinking over to us.
I blink, my mind stuck on what William was about to say. Something about having time. Time for what?
“I expected this one to be late,” Daphne says, angling her furry head toward me, “but you too, Mr. Haywood? The signing is about to start.”
Alarm ripples through me. I can’t be late after I arrived on time! I remember the book in my hands, but before I can stand on my tiptoes to try to return it to the shelf, William does it for me. Without offering him a word of thanks, I dart after Daphne as she heads for the stairs—but something catches my sleeve. I glance at my wrist, where William has lightly taken hold. The sight of his long, slender fingers wrapped around my green cuff sends my heart skittering.
“Ask me to end it,” he says, a note of pleading in his voice. “Let’s call off the bet.”
The worry on his face almost works on me.
Almost.
“You may have swayed my sympathies the slightest bit,” I say, “but I’m not calling it quits. I see now we both have reasons to fight, but yours don’t invalidate mine.”
“Let’s at least fight fair.”
“Fair? As in the sales numbers you inflated with all the efforts you made before this tour even began?”
“Yes, it’s fair. A hell of a lot more fair than our idiotic bargain. It has nothing to do with our art.”
“You act like I’m the one who bullied you into the bargain when you’re the one who spurred me on! Why are you so against this bet that you have an equal share in responsibility for?”
“It’s a matter of pride. I want to win for my efforts in sales, not seduction. Does it not rankle your own pride?”
“It does, but that’s only the least of slights against it. You know what rankles it more? That you sell more books than me. That you know my secret and had the indecency to bring it up. That you thought it would be so easy to convince me to end our bet.”
He scoffs. “Yes, because I thought you were a rational creature. If not on the outside, then at least at heart.”
