Page 23 of The CEO I Hate (The Lockhart Brothers #1)

MIA

B y the time the signing was done, I felt like I’d run a marathon. I’d talked to so many squealing teens and pre-teens that I was pretty sure I was going to have no voice at all tomorrow, but I was riding a high even bigger than the one I’d had upon landing the job on End in Fire .

The biggest surprise of all was that Liam had not only shown up but stuck around to play the part of broody Miles.

“You know, you probably made this experience extra special for a lot of them,” I said as Liam finally extricated himself from the last of the fangirls. He looked a little windswept, and I bit my lip, thinking about how nice it would be to run my fingers through his hair. “Also, well done with Ash.”

“You saw it?”

“I saw you tackle him.”

“I didn’t tackle him.” His scowl deepened.

“You body-snatched him.” I laughed.

“That dog is a menace.”

“In the best of ways, yes,” I said. “And he likes you.”

“So does the IRS. Doesn’t mean I have to return the affection. I still can’t believe somebody thought it was a good idea to bring that mutt here. He could’ve ruined the?—”

“Oh, please. Nothing happened,” I cut in.

“Live a little. Relax. Like now…I saw you signing their merch with all their favorite lines. That wasn’t so bad, was it?

I bet you’re a massive pushover for your niece.

You couldn’t tell any of those girls no, and you don’t even know them.

” I snorted. “Actually, you probably wouldn’t have signed some of the lines they gave you if you knew the context in the story.

” There was a now-infamous oat milk scene based off our interaction at Beans & Brews he wouldn’t be too happy about.

“I know all about the oat milk,” he snarked. “I should get credit for sparking the whole café subplot that you milked—pun intended—for two whole updates.”

My eyes widened in surprise. “How do you know about that?”

He shrugged.

I knew he kept tabs on Miles to see what kind of horrors I’d subjected “him” to, but I assumed he wasn’t really following the rest of the storyline. I dropped my hands to my hips, grinning. “You’re reading my webcomic. Like the entire thing.”

“Well, I obviously need context to keep on top of what you’re doing to Miles,” he grumbled, trying to play it off.

“Mm-hmm,” I said, crossing my arms, unable to hide my amusement.

“Which means I need to know what kind of scandals he’s going to be dragged into by the rest of your bad-influence characters.”

I laughed, gathering up the last of my things. “They are not bad influences!”

“You almost had Miles take the fall for that asshole Chris who tried to turn Melanie’s artwork in as his own for the final project.”

“Yeah, that started a whole flame war in the comments,” I muttered. I’d had to turn the commenting off for a while until things died down. That story thread had been inspired by my most recent ex, who’d been jealous of my success when Heart and Hustle started to take off.

This was exactly why writers should not date other writers.

He’d used fake accounts to post shitty things in the comments about me and my writing.

The moron had actually stayed logged in on his home computer under his sock-puppet alias, which was how I found out.

Needless to say, the breakup had happened swiftly.

“Yeah, well, PuppetMaster3000 was obviously never held as a child and needed attention,” Liam muttered.

“He also never learned how to spell. And don’t even try to tell me I should be nicer because he might be just a kid.

I’m convinced he’s a middle-aged man messaging from his mother’s basement because he keeps using the word radical like it’s still the eighties. ”

I opened my mouth, unsure of what to say. I’d never told Jake that the asshole in the comments was my ex Keith because I was embarrassed, and he already hated all my boyfriends on principle.

I didn’t need to prove him right. Again . But if Jake didn’t know about what Keith had done, he couldn’t have told Liam. From the way Liam was talking now… he must have been one of the other aliases trying to defend me in the comments.

“Wait…Are you PulpFrustration?”

“What? No,” Liam sneered, denying it so hard it was completely obvious he was lying. “What are you talking about?”

“You are !” I insisted. “You were arguing with PuppetMaster3000.”

“So?” he said.

My jaw dropped. PulpFrustration was one of my favorite commenters! I’d had no idea it was him. “Liam, I?—”

“What?” he huffed like it was no big deal, even if it was a very big deal to me. “You need a few regular folks in the comments section to balance out all the idiots.”

“Well, most of them are teenagers, I suspect.”

“Except for morons like PuppetMaster3000, who don’t have the brains to recognize talent,” he growled.

“Wish my parents had felt that way,” I said as we walked through the convention together.

“They always thought art was a waste of time. I had to use my babysitting money to buy drawing supplies and then try to find enough time after the kids had gone to sleep to get in some practice. If I practiced at home, I’d have to hide somewhere, because if my parents caught me, they’d tell me off for not doing something ‘useful.’”

Liam shook his head. “Who doesn’t buy their kid drawing supplies?”

“I don’t know, they just always wanted Jake and me to focus on more practical extracurriculars.

You know, things that would look good on a college application one day.

Sports, mostly. They were always going on about how Jake found basketball, and I needed to find something like that.

Problem was, I already had my thing . It just wasn’t a thing they approved of. ”

“Well, that’s ridiculous, because you’re so talented. And you and sports?” Liam said, wrinkling his nose. “Bad combo.”

“Hey!” I said, laughing. “I gave volleyball a very solid try.”

“And how’d that work out for you?”

“Broke two of my fingers, remember? Thankfully, only on my left hand though, so I could still draw.”

“Maybe you should have invited your parents down here to see all your insane fangirls,” he suggested. “If they could see how deeply your fans respond to your work, maybe they’d understand it more.”

I snorted. “They’d never show up at something like this.”

“Then they’re missing out,” Liam growled, his words so sincere they made my chest ache.

“Despite the fact that I’ve been mauled by a horde of teenage zombies, your fans clearly love your writing and the story you’re putting into the world.

You’re having a real impact on their lives, and I think that’s the mark of a great artist.”

It was hard to swallow as I blinked back tears. Had Liam Lockhart just given me the best compliment I’d ever received? My lips puckered into a smile. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with the real Liam? ”

“The real Liam?” he said, rolling his eyes at me. “C’mon, Gretel. Keep up or you’ll get lost.”

“That’s more like it,” I said. “Scared me for a second there. I thought the fans had rattled you around so much that you’d developed a new trauma personality.”

Liam scowled at me, and for once, it was comforting. “Remind me never to sign up to be mauled by blubbering teenage fangirls again.”

“You loved every second of it, and you know it,” I said as we walked past an artist’s booth filled with illustrations of cats. There were Harry Potter cats and Lord of the Rings cats and anime cats and an entire row of grumpy cats.

One of the grumpy cats was sporting a gray business suit. “Oh my God!” I backpedaled over to the booth. “It’s you!” I picked up the illustration and practically shoved it in Liam’s face. “Look!”

He grimaced, his entire face crinkling as he took in the adorable tabby cat with its heart-shaped nose, little blue tie, and ferocious scowl. “That is not me. ”

“Hi,” I said to the vendor. “Can we get one of these grumpy business cats?”

“Do not buy this,” Liam growled.

“I can spend my money on whatever I like,” I said with a wicked little grin in his direction. “Besides, it’s exactly like you. Look at the dead eyes. The simmering rage.”

“Would you like it framed?” the vendor asked. “It’s only an extra ten dollars.”

“No, she wouldn’t,” Liam grumbled at the same time as I shouted, “Heck yes!”

“I hate everything about this,” Liam continued.

“I know,” I said giddily. “I’m having such a great time.” The vendor handed over the newly framed cat, and I held it aloft like a trophy. “I’m totally hanging this up in the writers’ room.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“I forbid it.”

“You can’t forbid it.”

Liam’s eyes flashed with warning. “It’s my building. Watch me.”

The corner of my mouth twitched. “You’re totally thinking of some crazy HR scheme right now, aren’t you?”

He gritted his teeth, staring at the illustration. “Not only do I have to suffer Miles on the regular, now I’ve been reduced to a cartoon cat?”

“Oh, good point! Maybe Heart and Hustle needs a grumpy cat. Maybe Miles needs a grumpy cat! He can take it for walks in a little harness, and they can scowl together at everyone they pass. ”

“He most definitely does not need that.”

“It’s endearing. The fans will love it. And it’ll give his character some much-needed depth,” I teased. “Since he’s so two-dimensional.”

Liam’s eyebrow arched. “Are you still hung up on that?”

“No,” I lied. “I’m over it.”

“You’re sure? Because I feel like you’re angling for another apology.”

I laughed. “Seriously, it’s forgotten.”

He snorted. “I know better than to believe that. You never forget anything.” He hummed under his breath. “How about I bribe you with dinner to officially put the café incident behind us?”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” I asked. “The incident .”

“Do you want dinner or not?” he tossed over his shoulder as he walked away.

I chased after him. “I am starving. Watching you get mobbed by Heart and Hustle fans really worked up an appetite.”

Liam shot me a glare clearly designed to freeze the blood in my veins, but right now, all it did was warm the spaces between my ribs. “Let me carry some of that,” he said, holding his hand out for one of my bags.

“Not a chance,” I said, clutching them tighter. “I know you’re just trying to get a hold of Liam-cat so you can toss it in the first garbage can you see.” He didn’t even try to deny it. “Liam-cat will be joining the writers for tomorrow’s pitch session.”

“That thing is not welcome in the office.”

“He’s our mascot now.”

“Mia, I swear to God. If that picture shows up?— ”

“Sorry, can’t hear you,” I called, darting between a group of fans, turning just in time to see a TARDIS with legs plow into Liam.