Chapter 11: Black Suits and Ex's

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A/N: Oct 6, 2022

Would any of you be interested in buying The Writer's Assistant as a paperback to put in your shelves? 👀📖

If so, what would your budget be? I'd like to publish it so people can read it in their hands but I know lots of people have a budget. I'd like to know your thoughts!

Also, I got many questions, but I think TWA will be a standalone (so no sequel planned atm).

If you'd like to get early updates, you can also join my Patreon :) the link is in my Wattpad bio ⭐💕

VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION: Have you guys ever tried Starbuck's pumpkin spice drinks?? I have never tried it but I've been seeing it everywhere and idk if it's worth the hype. Please let me know so I know if it's worth spending 6$ cause your author be broke 💀

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I racked my brain to come up with something to say, anything to fill the silence. I didn't realize how dry my throat felt until I spoke.

"You mentioned the protagonist in your book was in a car with her love interest. Does that mean you're writing again?" I asked.

"I have ideas," was his answer, but his voice sounded distant.

"That's good," I said in a cheery voice. "Ideas are good."

"Not really."

"What do you mean?"

"What's the point of warming up your muscles if you're never going to run."

He sounded resigned, and I looked up in surprise and got caught in his gaze. I didn't realize how close we were standing until my whole vision was consumed by blue.

"You wrote so many best sellers before," I murmured. "You're a brilliant writer, Oliver. I'm sure your readers will love whatever you come up with. Don't like you like writing?"

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"I'd die for it."

The certainty in his voice made me stiffen.

"Then what's the problem?"

"The problem is that I love it too much." A pause. "Isn't that what happened between you and Aaron?"

Me and Aaron?

"You fell in love. You found out that you loved him more than you wanted, more than you expected, and you ended up loving him too much. You loved him too much to the point where it was no longer just you two in the algorithm. Suddenly there were people, friends, family, strangers, expectations, wants, desires, a mass of feelings and emotions that didn't only involve you and Aaron. It wasn't only about you two anymore."

His voice was hoarse and with a strange mix of evenness and pain.

"It's the same for me and writing," he murmured. "I don't care what other people think of me as a person. But me as a writer? That's where it hurts. What if I disappoint my readers?"

His voice was low but soft, and I felt like I was seeing a side of Oliver that I'd never seen before. There was nothing sexier than a man being unapologetically honest and vulnerable; and right now, Oliver was both.

"You won't disappoint them," I promised.

"How would you know?"

I confidently looked him in the eyes and said, "Because I've read your work. You're smart, talented, and funny, and I fell in love with every character in your books. Do you know how hard I cried after finishing 'Love Me Not?' I'd spent a month not knowing what to do with my life, and that only happens when I finish reading a good book. Yours was a masterpiece."

His eyes widened and I went on, "I understand that you have writer's block, and it's normal for people to feel stuck, but you shouldn't doubt yourself or your talent over a temporary phase. You're gifted. No, you're a genius. The only person stopping you from creating is yourself. I know you may feel a lot of pressure since you've published so many stories, but isn't sharing your stories and letting people fall in love with them worth that sacrifice?"

The room fell quiet. Heat crept up my neck and I dropped my gaze. Why did I give such a long speech? And why was I getting so worked up? I cleared my voice and continued to button up his shirt until he put his big hands over mine. I froze. Now I really was having a gay panic attack.

Be professional. Rule number one, never fall in love with your boss! Calm down. Deep breaths. Be professional.

"What are you doing?" I whispered professionally, slowly looking up only to be hit by his striking looks. His jaw was sharp and tense, and his eyes, bless those dreamy blue eyes of his...

"Thinking," he murmured pensively, his eyes falling to my lips.

"Of what?"

"I think I just fell in love."

My lips parted in shock, and my entire face grew hot.

"Don't joke around," I stammered.

"Who said I was joking?" His voice was rich and warm, and his words echoed through my ears. "You came here with your ex, didn't you?"

The sudden question caught me by surprise. Before I could answer, he asked, "Did you pick this suit for him too?"

"Lots of celebrities wear this suit," I grumbled hoarsely, then stupidly added, "Black looks good on Aaron. I thought it'd look good on you too."

Oliver studied my face, then removed his hand from mine as if he knew the answer. I felt an invisible kick in the stomach and suddenly regretted saying so much.

He took a step back and turned his back toward me as he buttoned up the remaining slots.

"I'll join you once I put the jacket and belt on," he said. Why did he suddenly sound so distant?

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" I frowned. He glanced at me and smiled, but something about his smile sent chills down my spine.

"Wait for me outside. I'll be out soon."

His voice was harder and colder. What was up with that?

I nodded and stepped outside. What was up with that? One minute he was staring at my lips, and then the next he was pushing me away.

Cassandra came back and asked if everything was alright. I told her everything was fine, but I couldn't stop thinking about the expression on Oliver's face. Was he upset about something? Did I ask something too personal? Why did I get the feeling he was mad?

Oliver finally came out, and Cassandra let out a squeal that made me jump in my skin.

"Mais qu'est ce qu'il est beau!" (Look at how handsome he is!) She exclaimed, swooning over him as he adjusted his sleeves. I stared at him, unable to take my eyes off of him. The suit fit him perfectly. Oliver was tall and had a strong body, but it was as if the suit had already been tailored for him. The dark fabric contrasted well with his eyes, and he looked like a superstar you'd see in the movies. He ran a quick hand through his hair and stood in front of the mirror.

"What do you think?" Cassandra asked. Oliver glanced at me, and the look in his eyes made my chest tighten.

"It's nice," he replied. "But I'll take the hot pink."

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A/N: Oliver getting angsty is low-key 🥵🥵

I honestly love writing TWA so much. I've never written a character like Oliver before and tbh I don't know why I haven't done it sooner 👀

Q/A: Team Haiwaiian pizza or no?

(Not be looking up how to spell Hawaiian 💀)

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