Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 38149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
“What about when you were younger? When did you know you were attracted to guys too?”
“I had a huge crush on Billy Monaghan when we were in junior high. He was actually my first kiss.”
“Lena’s husband? The woman from the Christmas tree farm?”
“Yep. We were thirteen, and I believe there was a dare of some kind involved. Whatever the case, we made out a lot in eighth grade,” I reported.
“In secret or…did everyone know?”
“Are you nuts?” I sputtered. “Of course, no one knew. Twenty-five years ago, gay was an adjective liberally used to describe anything unsavory. Algebra’s gay, your jacket is gay, that song is gay. So damn stupid, but it was how everyone talked. I liked girls too, so I passed for straight. Billy and I didn’t do anything more than kiss and grind a little. But it was enough to know I wasn’t alone, you know?”
He pursed his lips. “Yeah. You’re still friends?”
“Yeah, but obviously we don’t talk about those days. It was a lifetime ago and—” I flattened my palm on the table and frowned. “Don’t mention Billy in one of your books.”
Cameron narrowed his gaze. “Why would I do that?”
“Because gathering information with the intent to pass it along is your currency.”
“I’m a writer, Joe, not a gossip,” he said coolly.
“Right. But if you were to mention two teens, one whose dad owned the local tree farm, getting it on…that wouldn’t be so great. It would be too easy for the town to connect the dots since everyone knows you’re here doing author shit and they know you’ve been talking to me. Get it?”
Cameron scowled. “Got it. Let’s get something straight…I don’t write young-adult books and my characters don’t ‘get it on,’ so chill out. I’m not here to bleed information from you, and I wouldn’t betray a confidence. That’s not me.”
I met his stern gaze as I took a bite of chili, but I couldn’t hold it. My face cracked and I couldn’t seem to contain my monster grin. Especially when the prominent crease between his brow cut a deep V, indicating I’d touched a nerve. I know, I know…I’d been told I had a warped sense of humor.
“All right. That’s good. But now I gotta ask…you don’t write any sex? Like…none?”
His rigid posture probably meant he was still a bit peeved with me and might not respond, but his lips quirked with reluctant humor.
“Rarely. I’ve occasionally included an off-scene dalliance, but sex is gratuitous in a murder mystery.”
“I thought sex and violence made the world go ’round.”
“I think you mean love and peace,” he corrected drolly.
“What a crock,” I grumbled, tucking into my chili with more vigor than necessary.
Cameron kicked my shin playfully under the table. “You don’t believe in love and peace…and goodwill toward man?”
“No. They’re romantic notions…not reality.”
“Spoken like a true cynic,” he deadpanned. “I take it you’ve never been in love.”
“I thought I was once. I was wrong.”
He froze mid-bite, then set his spoon in his bowl and leaned both elbows on the table in a “tell me all your secrets” pose that was kind of funny coming from a guy pushing fifty.
“Who was he? Or she?”
“He,” I confirmed.
Cameron narrowed his eyes like a detective cracking a case. “Oh…your boss.”
Damn, he was good.
“Yeah, but that wasn’t love. That was me being a sucker,” I huffed.
He opened his mouth and hesitated as if trying to decide whether or not to press. “What happened?”
His expression was earnest and sincere, and for reasons unknown, I trusted him. But still…
“No one besides my shrink knows that story, Cam.”
“Huh. Do you realize that’s the first time you’ve said my name?”
I frowned. Was it?
“O-kay. What does that have to do with anything?”
Cameron shrugged. “Maybe nothing. Are you going to tell me about him?”
The brief stare-down wasn’t fooling anyone. If I wasn’t going to talk, I’d have been out the door a long time ago.
“Sure.” I sat back in my chair in my best casually nonchalant pose. “Nigel was twenty years older than me. British, sexy as fuck, and very powerful. He was the hot guy in the Wall Street corner office who wore well-cut suits that never seemed to wrinkle, and he had a reputation for being a shark. I was told to steer clear of him—and if that wasn’t possible…to smile and nod. As you might have noticed, I’m not great at smiling and nodding. And one day, there was some major crisis involving a stock transfer in Europe. It had nothing to do with me. I just happened to be on his floor, running an errand for my direct boss. I tried to stay out of the line of fire, but Nigel spotted me lurking behind a partition with my face buried in a sheaf of paperwork. He needed a punching bag and decided I was it.”