The Book Boyfriend

Chapter 2

“Please. Please. Puhleeaaase!” My publisher standing a little too close for comfort, again. She’s tall and has one of those demeanors that belongs in one of those cop shows. I hate it when she begs. It’s never— never mind.

“I thought we promised we were done.” My head in my hands to cover my face. I don’t want her to confuse my exhaustion from last night’s fun with irritation with her request.

She smiles while performing the fakest whimper I’ve ever seen. “Yes your contract has officially been fulfilled” she snaps, “—I just *eep*!” What a cute little chirp. She’s embarrassed now. You can tell by how red her cheeks have become. My stomach tightens as she moves in closer now before sitting down in front of me on my computer desk. “Books Anonymous just gave US a Golden Bookmark for Knights!”

I force a half hearted smile but we’ve been together too long. She knows me almost too well sometimes even exactly which strings to pull to unravel me.

“Do you remember what I told you when you first found me?” Interesting. She knows I’ll never forget.

“You said that I was such a very special young talent.” The intensity of her unbroken eye contact keeps my hands affixed where they are.

“Is it okay if I comfort you and place a hand on your shoulder? I recognize I’m probably already too close for comfort.” Her voice gets low. It’s a power move but one that gives me a sense of ease.

I have been effectively disarmed. “Yes, Ana. That’s fine.” My shoulders drop to welcome her comfort. “I know we agreed one more post contract but we didn’t— I, er, didn’t realize how much it was going to take off. Or how long it was going to take to live up to a promise I made to you back then.” She pulls her hand away… doesn’t want me to feel her growing discomfort.

“Ana,” I grab her cheek something that has seems unfamiliar though it shouldn’t. “I just wanted to clear the air. And, I hate saying it but the push for the last 3 books have seemed a little—”

“Selfish.” Stealing my words, feels unfamiliar though it really shouldn’t. “But I made a promise to be when it comes to you as you always have done for me.”

She stands up from my desk and kisses me gently on the cheek wiping her face as if to let me know the tears are real. “I believe now what I told you then. You never needed me or this series at all. Remember. You discovered Sir Damon, it was only right that you be credited to rise as he did. Sir Damon is yours.”

A warm smile, her partners at the book house would never know that woman had a side that wasn’t cold all the time. It’s just difficult trying to be heard when people assume you have nothing good to say. Ana Nuarez Simpson is a powerhouse all her own. “You know I will never take full credit when you had the biggest hand in shaping him. Let’s just finish growing him up please. One more. Fans are saying they feel like there’s still so much more the writer needs to say.” Her axstagram showing all of the reviews that our social is flooded with. Yes I share a social with my publisher because it’s less chaotic that way. I would keep up with nothing truthfully.

“Fine.” Grumbling reluctantly, I snatch the phone from her hand. “I’ll see at least why people feel like they were left unsatisfied.” I hate leaving readers unsatisfied.

“Feels like Sir Damon took the easy way out.”

“That resolution felt everything BUT resolved.”

“Hell someone even reposted the entire last page highlighting the last paragraph and just the words … ‘cliffhanger much?!’”

Ana leans over whispering gently, “you know they’re not wrong. You left the door wide… open.”

“Bots!” I yell out. Though the gut punch I’m feeling is telling me that’s real genuine user engagement. I’ve never known Ana to lie to me, but dammit if she isn’t cold.

It’s cold. “Dammit. Ana!” I yell after a shadow long gone by now from my own front door that has been left open just enough… enough to let the cold remind me of who she really is. The one in control. I go to my shelf taken back a minute remembering that one from my personal collection is out on “Loan”. I don’t expect to be seeing that copy return, it’s more so a marker to remind me of the only impact I can ever truly have.

“Men. They are good for a night, but it’s the days where you truly fall in love.” It’s unforgettable how Ana ended our conversation that forever and a day ago, we launched our very first book together.

It’s ironic a bit, I think. I wrote this book with intent to forget, yet it’s my most memorable work— which actually fills me with sadness instead of pride really. That’s why I wanted it to end. I thought maybe it was the time commitment making Ana’s dream work that was causing my own to shrivel up. I pull down book one: Knights To Remember, the Crucible of Sir Damon

Chapter 1: “He was well endowed— you know good family, lots of love, substantial wealth” Everything I never had — not— I think trying my earnest to not be bitter about my own upbringing rereading Knights To Remember’s first chapter one again. Sir Damon was never written for me. He was always— Ana, always understood the market for unrequited love. Knights have shining armor, but farmhands have dirty palms.