Page 36 of Unexpected You

Have you read this? It was accompanied by a screenshot of a book cover.

Eloise had sent it to me. Huh.

I had read the book ages ago. Hadn’t everyone? It wasn’t my favorite.

Overhyped, in my opinion. I don’t know if I would have liked it more if I’d read it without seeing everyone else rave about it, you know? I responded.

Hmmm. I’ve been putting it off because of that. Okay, I think I’ll skip it. What about this?

She sent me another book cover. I hadn’t read that one and told her so.

The author is a friend and I haven’t liked any of her other books, but I haven’t told her. She replied.

Oh yes, give me this TEA. I want to know everything about all these famous authors you know. I sent.

Don’t you dare tell anyone about that. I can still rip up this contract She fired back.

NOOOOOO, you’re stuck with me. It’s too late. And don’t worry, I won’t say anything. But I would like to know more details about other people you know. I don’t have any good gossip.

The cake finally cooled, and I realized I’d been talking back and forth with Eloise for a while. We’d come a long way since those first days when I was literally terrified of her. I still got a twinge in my stomach when I reminded myself that Eloise Roth was a famous author. Probably the most famous person I’d ever come into contact with. That was weird to think about. It was easier to think of her as the woman who made me lunch every day. Who didn’t like to accept the food I brought her in the morning, but finally did. Who worked her ass off and wanted to have her say over every aspect of her career.

In between frosting the cake, I joked with Eloise. Her sense of humor had come out a little more and I liked seeing it. Made her more human.

My frosting job on the cake wasn’t that great, but sprinkles covered up the worst sins and I took a picture anyway and sent it to Eloise.

Made my own cake. Should I save you a slice? She’s not pretty, but she’s going to be delicious.

I had cut myself a massive piece and started shoving it into my mouth before she answered.

Looks good to me. Camille sent me home with this. She sent with a picture of a tiny little lemon bundt cake with glaze dripping down the sides. It looked pretty damn good to me.

Cake really does make every day a little bit brighter, doesn’t it? I sent.

Yes, it does. Goodnight, Cadence. I’ll see you tomorrow.

I finished my first piece of cake and cut myself another.

* * *

Everyone at Sapph was happy to celebrate and most of their jaws dropped when I told them who I was working for. Then the questions started, but I’d practiced what to say. No, I couldn’t get them free books. No, I didn’t know what she was working on. No, I wasn’t helping her write the books. No, I didn’t know where she got her ideas from.

Reid kept the drinks flowing and the appetizer plates full and pretty soon I was losing it to the music and having a great time. The only thing I had to do tonight was get back to Hunter’s in one piece. She had demanded that I crash with her, and it wasn’t a bad idea for both of us to watch over each other. She’d stayed mostly sober, but I was on a mission to get smashed.

I must have succeeded because the next thing I knew, I had a rager of a headache and I was peeling my eyes open in Hunter’s guest room.

“Oh motherfucker,” I moaned as I covered my eyes. Too much light. The apartment was quiet, but I could hear Hunter moving around somewhere.

Very carefully, I rolled to my side and found a bottle of Gatorade and some aspirin. Yeah, this wasn’t that kind of hangover. The movement instantly triggered nausea, so I bolted to the bathroom and hurled up my guts. Hunter must have planned ahead because my hair was pulled back in braids that I definitely didn’t have last night. Such a good friend.

I rinsed out my disgusting mouth and then staggered back to bed.

“Having a rough one?” Hunter asked softly as I groaned and laid on my back.

“Little bit. It was fun last night and it’s not so much fun right now.” Even talking hurt.

“Please have something to drink at least,” she said, pushing the bottle of Gatorade into my hand. I didn’t think it was smart to put anything else in my stomach, but Hunter refused to let me argue with her.

It took several hours, but eventually I managed to keep something down and Hunter force-fed me a greasy breakfast sandwich before allowing me to think about my phone.