Page 16 of Wolfish Player (Steamy Latte Reads Collection #2)

THE CEO

ADRIAN

“ I pretend to be invested in the thriller in my hands, but my eyes betray me every time Heather drifts through my office. I should start one of her books—the ones readers won’t shut up about—but separating her fiction from the reality in front of me feels impossible.”

A knock sounds at my door when the killer is about to be revealed, so I ignore it.

It comes again, and I flip the page in my book.

“Sir?” The door opens without an invitation, and George waves his security badge before stepping inside. “We have a situation in the lobby. A very, uh, crucial situation.”

“Don’t I pay you to handle those things?”

“This one requires your attention—unless you’d like to get the police involved.”

“Fine.” I stand and follow him into the hallway, boarding the open elevator.

As the car descends, I brace myself for the possibilities: a tourist falling into our book-inspired fountain, a staff member sneaking out early copies of an anticipated release (that’s usually what this is about), or…my parents demanding to see me for a lunch date instead of picking up the phone.

When the doors open, the scene in front of me obliterates all of my assumptions.

Pink and purple tents crowd the floor, amidst sleeping bags and glitter-covered picket signs.

Release the book! Give us the Date! Satisfy the Cliffhanger Haters!

What the hell? I move closer to George. “What is this?”

“Sir, I think they’re?—”

“We don’t need him to speak for us!” A redhead with a “Fuck Wolf Publishing” sign moves closer. “We are camping out here until you release Allyson Harmony’s books!”

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t stutter, sir.” She looks like she hasn’t slept in days. “She hasn’t posted on TikTok in a month, hasn’t shared any updates, and I’ve been around book publishing long enough to know that something suspicious is going on between you and her.”

There’s no way she knows anything…

Her fellow crazies start moving closer, angling to hear our conversation, hoisting their sparkling signs like they’re storming a castle.

“Don’t look at me like I’m stupid.” She picks up a coffee and takes a long sip before narrowing her eyes at me. “I. Know. The. Signs.”

“The signs of what ?”

“The publisher isn’t treating her right or you’re doing something shady behind the scenes, so you’re not publishing her books.” She crosses her arms. “Who in their right mind wouldn’t give the fans something after all her success?”

“That’s a very good question.”

“And yet, here we are, waiting for the answer…”

I blink.

“Give us the answer!” she yells, setting off a chorus of chants.

“Answer us!” “Release the books!” “Give us a release date!”

“Hold on, hold on.” I raise a hand, waiting until they stop. “I’ll have our publicist come down and talk to you.”

“We already talked to her in the parking lot.” She asserts. “She fed us lies because she doesn’t know anything. Give us the release date.”

“You do know that I can call the cops on you for trespassing, right?”

“I know you won’t.” She pulls out her phone and aims it toward me. “I’m about to livestream this in front of all my followers.”

“All six of them?”

“ Six million .” She hisses before hitting the red record button. “Hey Harmony Obsessives! Like I promised, we’re here at Grey Wolf Publishing to get answers for our favorite author! The CEO himself came down to give them to us.”

Before I can walk away from this shitshow, she turns the phone toward me.

“When can we expect the final book in the Wildwood Saga and when will you be releasing the next standalone office romance in her Manhattan Forever series?”

I hesitate a few moments before smiling. “Soon.”

“Booo!” “Bullshit!” “That’s not a real answer!”

I turn around and move back to the elevator bank where dozens of my employees are watching this madness.

“What do you want me to do, sir?” George asks. “Have the police get them out of here?”

“No.” I look at my watch. “They can stay.”

“It’s a fire hazard,” he says. “Their tents are blocking the side doors and that redhead has more crazies coming…”

“Give me a second.” I rub my temple. I thought George R.R. Martin fans were insane—and they are—but they keep their crazy confined to the internet.

Putting them all out, even if they kind of deserve it, would make me look even worse in the media. And even though it would probably drive up Allyson’s sales more, it wouldn’t make the release date come any sooner. It’ll just drive them even more nuts.

“Let them protest and livestream for another hour,” I say. “Then move them up to the fifth floor where we keep the romance lounge.”

He looks at me like I’ve grown two heads.

“Have the staff serve them coffee and snacks at a discount,” I say. “Then have some editors give them some ARCs and swag every day until I have a release date for them.”

“You’re kidding…”

“Make them security badges so they can come in and out,” I say. “I’m sure they’ll want to go home and shower at some point.”

“But sir?—”

“Just do it.” I part through the sea of staff and step onto the elevator, overhearing someone say, “What the hell is he about to do?”

Finally read Heather’s books…

Later that evening, I lean back in my chair with a cup of coffee and a copy of the first book in the Wildwood Saga.

The cover—a grainy picture of a forest with “Wildwood” in faint cursive—looks like she designed it on a napkin, but that hasn’t affected the word-of-mouth at all.

It’s currently ranked number five in the Kindle store. The paperback is ranked at number twelve.

Why hasn’t Heather said anything about it?

I flip the first page, vowing to only read the first chapter.

After two pages, I’m completely invested and attached, and her writing style threads itself through my chest.

I inhale the first book within hours and immediately start the second.

When I look up again, I’ve finished and the sun is rising outside my window. And I’m pissed as hell about the cliffhanger.

Now I’m just as screwed as the rest of her fans.