He doesn’t have to know what I was thinking about this morning while doing said pleasuring.
“I guess it’s a good thing you came after all,” I say. Christ. Did I have to saycame? Put me to bed, I’m done.
“Glad to be of service. I had some making up to do.”
This brings me up short. It’s the first time he’s addressed the elephant in the room. But hey, I’m here for it. “Well, your chivalry today is a good start. Rescheduling events and calling out douche canoes at Q and A’s certainly add points in your favor.”
“Well, I think if we’d found a better venue, the…douche canoewould likely have been moot. That was not our target demographic.”
“Don’t worry, the points don’t cancel each other out or anything. That’s not how the math works.”
“There’s math involved, is there?”
I nod, serious. “Complex calculations. I don’t expect you to understand.”
His lips quirk again, showing the barest hint of a smile—tiny but mighty, if my heart rate has anything to say about it—before he sobers. “Listen, what that guy said. You know that’s about him. Not about you. Right?”
Is he trying to console me? Does he think I need consoling? “Of course,” I chirp. “You can’t exhale in this world without breathing on a guy like him. It’s no sweat.”
He opens his mouth, closes it again. Then says, “I know you could have handled yourself. Formidably. He just made me so—” He unfurls his hands from fists, shakes them out. “I didn’t mean to speak for you. I hope I didn’t overstep.”
If only he knew.You didn’t overstep. Having you speak in my honor was like throwing a warm blanket over my shoulders on a cold day. Wrapping it tight, rubbing the feeling back into my arms.
“It’s fine,” I say.
He shakes his head. “It was unacceptable, the way he disparagedyour work, in public, at an event intended to celebrate it. I’m sorry that happened to you.”
My heartbeat drums in my ears. Not only do Ryan’s words paint a completely different picture than the one I had of what he thinks about my book, but the empathy he seems to show so effortlessly is even more unexpected—that has to be why my chest suddenly feels like there’s a monkey playing a tambourine inside it.I’m sorry that happened to you. Such a simple statement, containing so much.
Has he experienced something similar? Had his work disparaged publicly? Now I feel guilty for asking to have him taken off my book’s campaign. That can’t have been a good look for him at Woodsworth, an author shouting that she doesn’t want to work with him.
I realize I know nothing about this person standing in my room, next to my unmade bed. A surprisingly intimate scene for two relative strangers. But it doesn’t matter. Even if I did know him, it’s not like he’d know me any better than the rest of the world does. That door is sealed up tight. Has been for years. Because I’ll never forget how it ended the last time I opened it: with my heart swirling down a drain.
And that was with Nathan—the person who was meant to love me the most. There’s no chance I’m about to open it to some rando.
I wave a hand through the air. “I’ve already forgotten it.”
He studies me for a long moment, as though unsure whether to buy what I’m selling.
“And I appreciated your kind words,” I say. “Even if they took me by surprise.”
“How do you mean?” he asks.
“Just…I’m glad you liked the book, in the end.”
“In the end?”
I shift on my feet. “You didn’t seem thrilled with the proposal. At that first meeting.”
His furrowed brow clears, and his face falls. “If I gave theimpression that I didn’t believe in the idea, forgive me. I did—I do. Your book is excellent, Ana.” My name on his deep voice makes a slow, liquid heat drip from my stomach down to my toes. “I think it’s going to make a difference in people’s lives. But I’ve told you that already.”
My chest deflates on a release of air.
He believes in it.
Relief washes through me like water through a parched throat. Not because I care what Ryan thinks so much as I want the on-tour publicist to be an actual champion of the work. Knowing he isn’t begrudgingly shilling what he considers a subpar product feels like unbuckling weights from my ankles.
A smile sneaks across my lips. “Well, now I believe you.”
