Page 16 of Play for Power (Central Sparks #3)

the stupid sexed-up golden retriever

Rosie

“ I t’s like a coming-of-age but only beginning in the midst of adulthood.

It has a profound story about self-discovery and heavily addresses the self-hatred and indecision we all deal with as adults in the real world.

” I scan the board room. I am doing it, finally pitching Jessie’s book.

I’m no longer worried or nervous about it; I know this is going to hit.

“The story goes through the man remembering all the things he loved about being alive. He reconnects with family and friends, he expands his business, and starts living for himself again. The added bonus is that he finds his heart song in another person and forms a connection deeper than what he thought he’d ever find. ”

“It sounds a bit fantastical. A little ridiculous.” Fuck you, Dick-bag Daniel.

“That’s funny, I didn’t realize you’d read the story,” I bite back through a smile.

“I don’t need to. A grumpy man falls in love with a sunshine girl. It’s overdone and frankly, boring.”

“Chris?” I turn to look at the only man who is actually able to comment right now, and he fiddles with a few papers, refusing to meet my eyes. I roll my shoulders back, resting my hands on the table and leaning closer to him, forcing him to meet my eyes.

“What percent of our sales did the romance genre take last quarter, Chris?”

“Sixty-three.”

“Fab. And how many of the titles came from my past pitches?”

Chris avoids me with a scrunch between his eyebrows and mumbles something. I feel Daniel shift down the table, but I don’t let my stare stop from burning through Chris.

“Sorry, sir, I missed that?”

“Fifteen.”

“Right. Fifteen titles I have put forward have helped increase this company’s sales and are the dominant genre in the market.” I let my scrutiny fall to Daniel. “And your two titles are grossing where?” I tilt my head but give him a look he might confuse with sincerity.

“Whatever.” He throws his hands back while he leans into his chair.

“As I was saying?—”

“This is the same author as that other manuscript? Fragments of Me ?” Chris interrupts.

“It is.”

“That’s enough, then. Thank you, Rosie,” Chris dismisses me and gestures for me to take a seat.

I fist my hands by my side. “Sir?—”

“I’ve heard enough. I reviewed the query and the synopsis, and I agree with you.

The title would be a great addition. I plan to provide an offer.

I have three other people I have to clear this with first.” I grunt quietly under my breath, furious I wasn’t even able to deliver my closing line, the line I spent the better part of the last three weeks manipulating to be the sole reason he said yes.

But instead, he just looks defeated rather than excited to take on the title.

It’s as though I could have said, Here, a romance, want it? and he would have just said, Sure.

“We have other matters to deal with. We are making a change to the imprints under Andersen Schulz and Meyers.” I take my seat again but refuse to let Daniel see any ounce of annoyance on my face.

Instead, I accept the shoulder bump from Halle and focus on Chris.

“The general fiction and romance will be split, so romance will now have its own imprint. This means we are moving around staff, and after a few discussions, we have decided to appoint an editor in chief for it.” I can’t help the gasp that leaves my throat, my grip firm on the arms of my chair.

That position is mine. Romance is my baby at this publishing house. I am the sole reason it is successful. I will not miss this opportunity.

“Over the next month we will start making selections and we will be making the announcements at the Relaunch Gala, so be ready. Every title, every selection, every line you work on is being watched.”

“Sir, can you elaborate on what the new imprint will be?” I almost breathe the question.

“Nothing further to elaborate. The new editor in chief is going to run it. Subject to management approval of course.” Of course.

“But they will be in charge of selecting their support staff, the name, the first few titles already on our list, as well as announcing the next few intakes. Whoever is selected will oversee their own division and will report only to me and the board.”

I think I have stopped breathing entirely.

This is everything I have wanted, everything I have been working for.

It’s here on a silver platter and ripe for the taking.

My only real competitors are Halle and Liza.

I know Halle won’t be interested in running for it and would be happy to work under me.

Liza on the other hand keeps to herself but works probably just as hard as me.

I don’t know her ambitions, don’t know if she’d want this.

But I have proven myself enough. I deserve this.

Daniel had perked up like he had a chance.

I wish I could laugh in his face as loud as I am laughing at him in my head.

Sure, his work is okay, but he has a habit of trying to close the door on romance.

And I’ll be damned if I let this publishing house censor this genre.

The meeting was dismissed quickly, with a new energy buzzing through everyone as we finished out the workday. I have been particularly antsy. I know Chris won’t get me the formal offer until after the weekend, but I can’t wait to give the news to Jessie and Casey. They are going to be thrilled.

I stopped by the liquor store on the way to the little apartment above the bookshop café and rapidly made my way up to the apartment, banging a few times on the door.

“Open the door, you can play hide the longaniza later!”

A few gruntled sounds and swearing confirm that my assumptions were correct. The caveman was getting down and dirty, but I wasn’t going to wait to drop this bomb.

“The heck is a longaniza ?” Casey’s head pops out from around the door that she has only opened a little, her shirt— Jessie’s shirt—done up with mismatched buttons, her cheeks lightly pink, and I smile wider.

“Think of it like a chorizo sausage.” I smack my hand against their door and let myself in, pleasantly surprised to find a frowning, shirtless, and frazzled Jessie with his arms crossed and looking like he might murder me.

“And sorry to ruin your evening, but I come baring excellent news.” I smile at Jessie and hear Casey snicker behind me.

“Chorizo got nothing on Jessie.”

Of course I don’t dignify that with a response. Instead, I do what I planned to do when I walked through the door. I shake up the bottle of champagne in my hand and rip the cork, letting the foam and liquid burst and spray all over Jessie…and his apartment.

“What the fuck?” He grumbles, looking down at himself.

“Huh. That always looks better in the movies.” I ponder the rather underwhelming spray of alcohol and then promptly place the bottle on the counter.

“Well, anyway…guess who is going to be a published author!” I throw my arms out wide and Jessie’s head snaps to me as Casey gasps from behind me.

I dart my head around and find her eyes watering, her smile wide.

Looking back to Jessie, he looks past me over to Casey, and a small smile creeps up on his face.

Well, that’s weird, I don’t hear any chants and shouts about how amazing I am. Not even anyone kneeling and kissing my toes because I’m practically Jesus-walking-on-water magical.

“Official deal will come in tomorrow, or this week. I’ll be your editor and we are going to make this baby shine!

” I smile even wider, matching his, feeling a strange sense of warmth covering my chest. I do have a lot of affection for my friends, but it’s oddly comforting seeing words I spoke change someone’s day.

I don’t typically allow myself to get too invested in other people’s lives—unless it’s Addy or Casey—but doing this for Jessie, being alongside him, feels special.

Of course, neither he nor I will be caught dead admitting this.

“Well?” I prompt, because there isn’t a whole lot of, Thank you, Rosie, or, You’re the light of our lives, Rosie.

“ Jess. ” The whisper comes from behind me and then there is the patting of light feet as Casey runs and jumps on JJ. He catches her as she wraps her body around him, and my face pulls into a sneer.

“Excuse me? Where is my run-and-jump hug? I literally just made this happen.” Casey manages to disentangle herself from Jessie with a giggle and she makes her way over, pulling me into her embrace. I return it, thankful she didn’t attempt to run and jump.

“Sorry, Rosie. Thank you for doing this for him,” she finishes on a whisper, I assume just for me to hear. When she lets go, I look over and find JJ with a soft smile in my direction.

“Thanks, Rosie, I appreciate it. Really.” He nods, a little bit of pinkness to his cheeks, but with the way his hungry eyes keep devouring Casey, I know my time here is cut.

“Okay, well…I won’t cock-block any longer…as you were.” I wave a hand between them and turn for the door. I hear some giggles and gasping the second the door closes behind me. Literally a second. Devious sex animals. I am so proud of her.

A little happy to have been the one to deliver the good news, a lot deflated that we didn’t all celebrate, and now antsy with some pent-up energy, I pull my phone out to call my other home girl, hoping she is up for a night out so we can really celebrate.

Except it goes straight to voicemail. I try again, but then a text comes in.

Addy:

Sorry girl! Working late at Lucas’s, I’ll call you after my shift x

Well, there goes that idea.

I make it back to the apartment, sliding out of my heels and dumping my shit at the door.

It’s the first time since Casey moved out last week that I’ve really felt the emptiness of the apartment.

I walk to her old room and stare at the Great Wall of Heels.

I wasn’t kidding when I told her I’d turn it into my second closet.

The room is simple, with plain walls on either side that lead to a full-size window overlooking the city, no gaps in the shelves, save for a door that leads to a private en suite.

I walk through the room and lay myself dramatically across the large round ottoman that is placed strategically in the middle, staring up at the ceiling.

“Hi, babies,” I mumble to my emotional support heels. “Momma’s home.” Except it doesn’t feel anything like home right now.

Ugh, when did I become so lame? Between lying here on my own in a room full of shoes and leaving the bar on Friday alone when there was a perfectly good guy ready to jump straight into my bed—which, granted, I got major ick when he said, Hope you’re on birth control, I want to fill you with my seed, because in all honestly, what in the fuck, Brad?

—I’ve hit a new level of incredibly lame.

I tossed around the idea of heading out, but that idea just doesn’t hold any excitement right now.

Hanging out with a stranger feels kind of hollow.

The last time I did that ended with me coming on Icky Brad’s fingers while I made direct eye contact with Caleb—which was both hot as fuck and…

strange. I am not an exhibitionist, usually, but there was something so fun and such a turn-on, watching Caleb lose his mind.

He doesn’t need to know I was picturing his hands the whole time.

He also doesn’t need to know that Brad ruined everything with his seed comment, sealing the deal on me leaving without him by saying, Bro that’s mad, you came in a bar.

The memory alone gives me a full-body shiver.

And now here I am, lying down in an empty room, staring at tens of thousands of dollars’ worth of shoes after a successful day, feeling nothing but sorry for myself. Lame, lame, lame.

But…I really don’t want to celebrate this with someone who doesn’t understand it. I don’t want to kill this small sting of loneliness with someone who is just going to leave me feeling empty in the end.

Fuck it.

I pull out my phone and open the text thread.

Me:

Doing?

I scold myself immediately because now I’m sitting here waiting for a reply. I am above this. There is no way I am this desperate for a companion right now. I am Rosie freaking Garcia. I thrive by myself because I am a strong, badass woman and I don’t need anyone.

My phone pings.

Sex Pest:

*celebration GIF*

Me:

Forget I asked *eye roll emoji*

Sex Pest:

WAIT! JK, what are you doing?

I know I’m going to regret this, but apparently, I’ve lost my mind completely.

Me:

I’m bored. But I had a good day at work, I want to celebrate.

Sex Pest:

I can think of a few ways to celebrate *smiling devil emoji*

Me:

We aren’t fucking.

Sex Pest:

And you say I’m boring.

I try my hardest to wipe the stupid smile off my face, shaking my head when the idea to slip on my rule rolls through. “Stay strong, Rosie. Don’t let that stupid, sexed-up golden retriever ruin your resolve.”

Me:

I don’t want to go out, I don’t want to have sex.

Sex Pest:

Is that why you left alone after coming on a stranger’s fingers and mouthing my name?

Me:

I’m never talking to you again.

Sex Pest:

I’ll be there in 20 and I’m bringing food.

I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?