All He Asks 2 Read online

  “I go to parties all the time.”

  “Parties that have nothing to do with work?” Raoul asks.

  That silences me.

  Truthfully, it’s been a long time since I’ve socialized outside the office. Sylvia Stone keeps me busy. I’m almost as much her babysitter as her assistant. Add in my long drives out to Erik’s house on the lagoon…

  “I love my job,” I tell him. “I’m not going to apologize for all the time I spend working.”

  “And I wouldn’t expect you to. But it’s more than that, Little Christy. You need me.” He bites out every word.

  He’s completely right. I do need him.

  More than that, I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything before.

  We reach the top floor and the elevator opens. The moment between us is broken. Raoul straightens his jacket, runs his hands through his hair. “Let’s look at that contract,” he says, stepping out and leaving me breathless behind him.

  Six

  The terms of the contract are as hideous as Grosvenor said they were.

  A non-compete clause prevents me from publishing anything—anything at all, including personal blogs and social media statuses—without approval from Sylvia’s lawyers.

  The contract also gives Sylvia rights to everything I produce for the entire duration of copyright, which is some number of years after I die.

  It also requires me to write her books for the rest of her life.

  There are stiff financial penalties for defiance of any of these rules, and no exit clause.

  As far as the publishing industry goes, this contract is slavery.

  My hands are shaking. I have to set the paper down lest I drop it. Fortunately, I’m already sitting in a chair in front of Raoul’s desk, so I don’t have to worry about falling over.

  “How did you get this?” I ask.

  “I became suspicious when Lateen wouldn’t let me in on negotiations with Sylvia. Even more suspicious when I found out Duke is somehow involved.” Raoul paces on the opposite side of his desk, fiddling with his cufflinks. They shine gold in the moonlight. “Sylvia was happy to give a copy to me. I also have a copy of the revisions she wants on her contract, if you want to see them.”

  My stomach wouldn’t be able to handle that, I’m sure.

  “No, thank you.”

  “I’ve passed this onto my lawyer,” Raoul says. “I’m confident that these terms aren’t legal. Social media statuses, for God’s sake. It’s ridiculous.”

  I can’t remain sitting anymore. I stand and begin to pace, too. “But if I don’t sign it…”

  He cups my shaking hands in his. He’s so calm, so firm. “Let my lawyer worry about it.”

  “I doubt I can afford your lawyer.”

  “Don’t worry about that either.”

  Butterflies buzz through my stomach. “But Raoul…”

  “No.” He places a finger over my lips. “I’m going to do everything I can to make this deal work out equitably without also destroying Durand-Price.” He smiles wryly. “Carlos would never forgive me for ruining his investment if I did.”

  “To be honest, Raoul, I’m not certain that negotiating the best deal possible with Sylvia Stone is even a good idea. Erik Duke has made demands that are directly in opposition with hers.”

  “Should I care about that?” Raoul asks.

  “Grosvenor doesn’t care. He thinks that Erik will lose interest if they put him off long enough. But he doesn’t know what Erik’s capable of. He will shatter everything to get his way.”

  “I agree with your assessment.”

  “You do?” I’m thrown by this news. “Really?”

  “I’m familiar with men like Duke.” Disdain drips from every word. “The kind of men who think they can wield their power to seduce women.”

  A realization settles over me, prickling and unpleasant. “You want to negotiate a good deal with Sylvia so you don’t have to negotiate anything with Erik. Because you think that Erik is trying to use this deal to…seduce me.”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Raoul asks.

  He’s more correct than he realizes, but still far off base.

  “Erik’s been mentoring me to improve my writing. His demands aren’t attempt at seduction.” He’s already succeeded at that. “This is about his pride. He hates Sylvia, but thinks highly of his own talents. By supplanting her with someone he’s mentored, he’s getting rid of an unworthy writer and also securing his control of the publishing company.”

  Raoul’s staring at me in surprise when I finish. I feel much the same. I hadn’t thought of it in so many words before, but I know that I’m right.

  “Do you think Duke should have that much control over Durand-Price? And over you?” he finally asks.

  I can’t help but be honest. “No. He frightens me.”

  “Then it’s settled. We’ll try to make Sylvia happy without ruining your life. Don’t worry about Duke.”

  “It’s not that simple. He’ll never give up.”

  “Don’t you want my help with this?” Raoul asks. That teasing tone has returned.

  “No, I do, and I’m grateful for your help. But I don’t think Erik will allow himself to be ignored, and I also don’t understand why you’d expend so much effort to help me anyway.”

  Raoul lifts my hands and kisses the tips of my fingers. Every brush of his lips is like he’s touching another part of my body entirely. My eyes flutter shut, and I lean back against the desk.

  “I think you know why,” Raoul says. “I’ve spent my entire adult life regretting how we were pulled apart. Your father’s death…” Pain creases his eyebrows.

  “I understand,” I say. It’s too painful to discuss.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t make it to his funeral. I wanted to, Christine. I did everything I could to return to you. But my family—your family—our parents didn’t leave their last summer together on good terms. It became political.”

  “What’s changed?” I ask. “If our families still hate each other…”

  “What’s changed is that I don’t care anymore,” Raoul says. “I’m not going to live with regret. No matter what happens, I’m going to be with you now. Forever.”

  He dips his head and kisses me. It ignites a slow burn inside of me, the flick of his tongue and the light nip of his teeth.

  It’s just as thrilling as the first time we kissed, though there’s something slightly less chaste about it. Perhaps it’s because we’re both older now. Or perhaps it’s because I’ve been recently dirtied, touched by the shadow of a very strange kind of lust.

  I don’t want to think about Erik now. I run my fingers through Raoul’s long hair, tangling myself in him, trying to lose myself in his warmth.

  When he breaks away from me, he’s gasping.

  Raoul presses his forehead to mine. “Tell me that you feel the same way, Christine. Please.”

  “Of course I do,” I say.

  “But?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “I can hear it in your voice.” Raoul cups my face in his hands, scrutinizing me closely. “There’s something holding you back.”

  Would he even believe me if I told him that it’s Erik Duke, or would he laugh again? “There’s nothing. Nothing at all.” Tears sting my eyes. “I don’t want to live with regret, either.”

  Raoul pushes me back against his desk until I’m seated on the edge. I hear Sylvia’s contract tear underneath us.

  He bends to kiss me again, but a thought strikes me and I stop him.

  “We both work at Durand-Price now, Raoul. You’re higher in the company than I am. Isn’t there some kind of ethical problem?”

  “I don’t care,” Raoul says. “Do you?”

  I respond by kissing him, clinging to him.

  Of course I don’t care about that.

  On Raoul’s lips, I taste the future. The possibility of a life lived eternally in the summers of my youth, constantly bathed in sunshine, languid in the warmth of hi
s love.

  It’s worth sacrificing everything to reach that kind of happiness.

  This is the moment I’ve waited for since I was a girl—the culmination of our years of flirtation, the breathless moments hiding in closets, and horseback rides on the beach.

  In this heartbeat, with our lips united, everything is perfect.

  -

  We return to the party to find it in full swing. Obviously, my defiance hasn’t put much of a dent in Sylvia’s pride—she’s at the center of the crowd, laughing and chatting and accepting all compliments with feigned humility.

  She’s flanked by her book covers. Our book covers. Everyone wants to take pictures with her.

  The advantage to this is that my return with Raoul goes unnoticed. Nobody so much as glances at us, the lead editor and author’s assistant with smeared lipstick.

  This is Sylvia’s night. She dominates.

  For once, I don’t care. I’m still aching from our kiss. I want more than anything else to leave, take Raoul’s car back to his condominium, and continue our conversation. But Raoul is lead editor of the imprint. His responsibilities compel him to remain at the party.

  I hang at his side as he socializes. Nobody tries to speak with me. I’m not well-known in the industry; most of my work is done outside the office and my name is attached to nothing. As far as everyone knows, I’m only Raoul’s “plus one” for the night.

  The idea of our relationship being so simple is wonderful. I like being defined by Raoul, fulfilling a role that is no more than “editor’s girlfriend.”

  For a time, I can enjoy the illusion.

  We’re getting our drinks refreshed when it happens.

  Sylvia’s about to give another speech—the real reason I’m trying to fortify myself with champagne. “Friends and guests,” she says, slurring her words, lifting her flute in what I assume will be a toast.

  She’s interrupted when the spotlights flicker and turn off.

  And then so do all of the other lights.

  I can barely hear the gasp of the crowd over my own squeal of surprise. My hands flail in the darkness and connect with someone warm and solid—Raoul. He pulls me close to him.

  It’s so dark in there, with nothing but the faint glow of moonlight to illuminate the room.

  Suddenly, I’m back in Erik’s basement again. A place where light never touches.

  I’m trapped.

  After a moment, the spotlights come back on, shattering my brief illusion. The rest of the lights haven’t returned, but it’s still bright enough for me to see that I’m not in Erik’s basement at all—just at another Sylvia launch party.

  Grosvenor jumps onto the stage and tries to speak into the microphone. His voice doesn’t amplify, so he’s forced to shout. “We’re having some technical difficulties with the electricity. Don’t worry! Remember, our open bar requires no power to operate!”

  Relieved chuckles spread through the crowd. Everyone relaxes quickly.

  Except me.

  “You’re shaking,” Raoul says. “Are you okay?”

  I lick my lips to wet them, but my tongue has gone completely dry. “I think I’d like to leave.”

  “Already?”

  “Please,” I say.

  The genuine fear in my voice must have reached him for once. He tightens his arms around me. “I’ll call for my car. But don’t be afraid, Little Christy. I have you.”

  He kisses me, and it’s just as sweet as it had been in his office—though not nearly as reassuring.

  My nerves are fried. The idea that everyone will see us together doesn’t help. But I’m not really worried about ethics violations around Durand-Price, so I don’t know why I can’t settle down.

  The murmur of the other partygoers changes tenor. People stop talking. And then they start whispering in earnest, and I hear what they say in snippets.

  Who is that?

  Is that him?

  It can’t be.

  I break free of Raoul’s kiss. The elevators are beyond his shoulder, and there’s a man standing in front of them who obviously doesn’t belong at the party. He’s not wearing a tuxedo, like everyone else—only black slacks and a white button-down shirt, which are unusual, even for him.

  Erik Duke has come out of his solitude. He’s at Sylvia Stone’s launch party.

  And he’s looking directly at Raoul and me.

  -

  All He Asks: Part 3

  Thanks for reading! I hope you’ve enjoyed the second part of All He Asks. I can’t wait to share my next book with you. ♥

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