Page 65 of The Billionaire's Second Chance

And then I stood, collecting the hundreds of pages of manuscripts scattered across my desk, each one of them a reminder, and I put them in an empty book box for the recyclers to collect.

I felt nothing.

I called James.

“I’m not representing any more romances,” I told him. “Besides Edie’s. You’ll have to get a new source.”

“I take it you got the award, then?” he said with a chuckle. “I’m not surprised–that you got it or that you want to pivot to something more… serious.”

“I won’t tell Edie you said that,” I said dully.

“You know I have nothing against romance,” he laughed. “You, on the other hand…” I closed my eyes, taking a breath. Ilikedromance. But I wouldn’t correct James.

Because now, in every manuscript, there was a pale imitation ofmyromance; in every skipped heartbeat and caught breath, a splinter of my fractured heart.

In every crooked smile and green-eyed gaze, a warped reflection of Charlie.

I couldn’t face that. I couldn’t bear the knowledge that all those books would end in happily ever after, and I’d still be alone.

“Congratulations,” James said when I didn’t reply.

“Thank you,” I said automatically. “I have to go.”

“See you at the banquet,” he said, and I nodded absently and hung up. My hands shook as I dialed again. I had to do this one last thing.

“Samantha,” the voice on the other end of the line said. I couldn’t bring myself to speak. At last, I pulled myself together.

“Sebastian,” I said.

“Did you need something?” he asked. There was a shuffle of papers in the background. “I’m busy.”

“Are you busy Saturday evening?” I asked.

“I am, why?”

“Oh,” I said. “I was going to ask you to accompany me to the New York Lit banquet.”

I didn’t want him to come. I didn’t want to see him, not Saturday, not ever.

But Ineededhim there, to seeme. What I had accomplished.

The shuffling stopped. “You won your award, then. Congratulations,” my brother said. “I’ll be there.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t want to invite Charlie?” he asked. I closed my eyes.

“No,” I said, and I heard his distractedhmmfrom my speaker.

“Alright,” he said. “See you then.”

I waited to hear the line go dead.

And then, alone at my desk, the tears finally spilled, one after the other, until my cheeks were wet and my lashes clinging.

“Ms. Scott?” a knock sounded from my door. I sniffed desperately, casting around for a tissue, something, but it was too late, the door swung open. “We’re going out for lunch, do you want to–” I could hear just when Ava noticed my appearance. “Oh, are you–”

“I’m fine,” I croaked, glancing up at where she’d poked her head through the doorway with a tight smile. “Go without me.”