The B-Word

Part 3

Chapter Three

"I hate him!"

Harper stormed across the high-ceilinged lounge of the Knightsbridge apartment she shared with her best friend Millie, Millicent Reynolds. They'd met in Oxford in their first year of University and had been firm friends since. She came from a fringe titled family. Her grandfather was a Viscount, and it was they who rented the apartment to Millie and her, for a fraction of what it should be.

"He sat there, in that café, telling me just how I was going to spend the next few weeks – at his beck and call. I mean, am I his editor or his PA? I know what Carmella would say."

She reached for the wine glass that she left on a side table and took a swig, "she'll say humour the bastard, be what he needs, get the manuscript at all costs."

Millie was curled up on the sofa under a blanket, a plate of cookies in front of her, nodding enthusiastically, "it beats sitting in the office proof reading, doesn't it?"

Did it? She couldn't say, because a day with him seemed like torture, let alone the prospect of weeks, or maybe even months.

"For anyone else I'd tolerate it, I mean there is the greater good for my career...but how the hell can I hold my literary head up if I've had to literally sell me soul to do it? Talk about a poisoned chalice."

Millie rolled her eyes, "you are nothing if not dramatic in these situations, you've been begging for this chance, how bad can it really be? You get chance to command he writes, correct him, keep him on track. Sounds perfect, dominating a man, could be fodder for a panty-melting novel in the future. We all love a powerful woman storyline."

She imagined herself as a serious writer, though she knew that there was a lot of opportunity and interest in hot romantic page turners. "That won't get me a look in with the Booker prize."

"Remember what our English professor said back in our first year in Oxford, tread on anyone you need to in your quest for greatness, once you achieve your goal, the world is your oyster."

Harper slumped into her chair and groaned, closing her eyes for a long moment, "I always imagined she was talking about taking your chances. The Bastard flouts all rules, even Prof Shanklin would agree with that." She dropped her head back, looking up to the ceiling, "I just hate him."

Millie sighed, "so you keep telling me, I just don't get why."

Harper huffed, blowing her fringe out of her eyes, she had been restless since she'd left the coffee shop and the most ridiculous afternoon of her life. Why did she hate him? "Because he tortured me through school, embarrassed me, humiliated me. Then strolls into work and does the same there."

Millie chewed a cookie contemplatively, "but you've never forgotten him?"

Harper blushed, "you don't forget something like that."

And despite all he did, you liked him. That's why it hurt. She sighed, there was one time when they'd been alone, without witness or friend, and he'd been so nice to her. In all that horror, he'd made her feel special. And that only meant she let her guard down enough that he could hurt her even harder. The man had played her out of the park.

Millie smiled, "I get it. I do. So, what are you going to do?"

The Million Dollar Question.

"It boils down to a choice. This could see all my dreams come true, if I see the project through Bitch Boss promised me a chance at editing..."

"But you'll have months of being in his pocket first."