Mycharacters.
My characters actually come to life.
I pressed my lips into a line and put the phone back to my ear, tears filling my eyes. “I love them,” I said, not allowing myself to smile, to react more than I already had. It could fall through. It could be a part of my delusions. Her publishing company could burn to the ground in the next five minutes. Anything could happen, there was no need to get overly excited about it yet. Not yet.
“And one last thing before I go. Now, it’s not official yet, okay? So don’t get your hopes up, butThe Unforgettable Rosehas caught the sights of a movie producer.”
I swallowed, my brain unable to process the information. “No, it hasn’t.”
She laughed. “It has! Congratulations! Pop some wine or something! I’ll keep you updated!”
What. The.Fuck.
“Thank you.” I hung up and carefully set my phone face down on the bar.
Fanart.
A movie?
I glanced back towards the curtain, gripping the edge of the bar. I could already hear his voice.“You misheard, Olivia. Nothing like that could ever happen to you. She said something else. You’re just too wired on caffeine to hear it.”
I swallowed, turning back to my drink. He was right, wasn’t he? I could have misheard. I didn’t have good reception here. I’ve had a drink. My eyes fell to the drink. A few sips. Enough to alter my train of thought.
“Why would anyone like your books anyway? All you write about is serial killers and porn. It’s disgusting.”
I wrapped my hand around the glass and nodded. Cheers, Steven. I took a long drink. It was just another thing, wasn’t it? A delusion, right? After everything I had done these last few weeks, something that good didn’t happen to a person like me. I had too much to drink, that was it. I probably didn’t even actually answer the phone, did I?
Had I?
I glanced at my phone, face down on the bar, my brows furrowing. Had I picked it up? No, of course I hadn’t. Katie had told me two days ago that she was going on vacation herself for a few days. To visit her grandmother. She wouldn’t have interrupted that for me.
“Not all good things can be stolen.”
I looked over, taking in how tense the man was. His shoulders were rigid, his knuckles white around the glass, his jaw set, his eyes hard.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head, turning back to my drink. “Says the man who is terrified to show his face anywhere.” I finished my glass and gestured to Jake who was completely avoiding this part of the bar now which annoyed the shit out of me.
He eyed the man as he walked over, and he silently mademe another drink, meeting my eyes only once before sliding my glass over and returning to the other end of the bar. He didn’t even bother giving me a new glass this time, which he always did. A trait I found irritating and nice at the same time.
I scoffed, shaking my head. “Great, another controlling shadow lurking over my shoulder,” I mumbled, and took another drink.
“Fear isn’t the same as control, little writer,” he hummed. “He fears me, you don’t, yet I control you.”
I glanced towards the curtain again. “I’m terrified of you,” I replied, turning back to my drink. “You just won’t accept that.”
“If you were so terrified, you wouldn’t have taken that phone call right next to me. You would have ignored it. You wouldn’t have let me hear the name of your publisher or see the pictures of the art someone made for your books. That’s a lot of information to give a man like me.”
I stilled, my eyes finding his. He was a delusion too, so none of what he said proved anything.
He was already looking at me, those silver-blue eyes glowing. “You wouldn’t have let me see that grimace of a smile you swallowed down when you got the good news. If you were terrified of me, you wouldn’t have let me see you look at that curtain and convince yourself that it was all in your head. You should be terrified, and I will make sure you are every chance I get, but you, Olivia, are not terrified.”
I searched his eyes, my brows furrowing. “I don’t…” I closed my eyes and shook my head. “No, no, you’re lying. You misheard.”
“Let yourself feel it.”
Why was he being so fuckingnice? I hated that. I hatedthis.
I shot a glare at him. “I’m not listening to my crazy, delusional, psychotic stalker tell me what to do,” I bit, uncaring who heard. “You’re a fucking coward, you know that?” I spat, watching hiseyes darken. “With your stupid mask and your stupid suits. Who even wears a suit to a fucking park? Crazy people. You can’t even show your face to the bartender who probably already knows what you look like because this club is so goddamn exclusive, it’s pathetic.You’rethe pathetic one, not me.You are. Not me.”
