“Everything is going to be fine. I wouldn’t worry about it,” she said in her strong Northern accent. “I spoke to Gillian, and she said the preorder numbers are out of this world.”
As soon as I’d come home from New York, I’d gotten a call from Caroline. I had an offer in from Hartfield for my latest proposal. A big offer. And then another offer came in. And another. And then the book went to auction where all the publishers could bid on it. Thirteen publishers in total.
I’d actually fainted when Caroline came back with the final offer in the seven-figure range. Warren Publishing had won out, and I’d signed on the dotted line for my first book deal with Gillian editing.
It had been a dream and a nightmare.
Because of course, it had to be this book.
The one I’d written while living in that house with Penn for two months.
“So Warren wants to throw you a release party here, in New York. They’re inviting everyone who matters and early readers who adored the book. I have your ticket and hotel situation all lined up. The publisher said they’d handle everything. You’ll get a tour of Warren and a meeting with the higher-ups. I’m sure they’d love to hear what you’re working on next. Nothing official, just an elevator pitch.”
Caroline droned on about the party and my meeting with Warren, and I froze up. A party. In New York.
“Caroline, is there any way that I can…skip New York?”
“Are you kidding? Of course you can’t skip. And they’ve already made the arrangements. It’s important.”
“Okay,” I said softly.
“You can bring your friend Amy, too. We can get her a ticket if it makes you feel better.”
“Yeah, that’d be great actually.”
“Then it’s set. I’ll see you next Tuesday in New York City as the world gets your debut novel, Bet On It.”
Caroline talked for a few more minutes before hanging up. But I was left with a sense of panic. New York. I was finally going back to the place that had broken and remade me. I probably had nothing to worry about.
New York was a big city.
Millions of people lived there.
What were the chances that I would run into anyone that I knew?
TO BE CONTINUED
Penn & Natalie return April 23rd in…
CRUEL FORTUNE.
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I finally have everything I ever wanted—fame and fortune and literary success. Only one problem: I lost my muse.
He was tall, dark, and handsome. Broody, enigmatic, alluring, and right for me in every way. Until he wasn’t. Until I lost everything.
And I can’t lose it all again. I’ll do anything to keep it.
Even seeing him again…
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Turn the page to read how Penn & Natalie started in Paris.
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I spot the mysterious stranger across the party.
I’d seen him in the park, writing furiously in his worn leather notebook.
He’s pure confidence, born and bred in high society with eyes like a hawk—observant, cunning, and wicked. With sensual lips and a body made to worship, he’s exquisite. A work of art.
While I’m young, innocent, and completely out of my depth.
But I’m drawn to him. Captivated by his approach. When he asks for one night, I have only one word for him.
Yes.
One summer in Paris. One night with him. One cruel night.
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Chapter One
One Cruel Night
Rich, decadent, self-indulgent depravity.
That was my first thought when I surveyed the party I was currently crashing.
“What the hell am I doing here?” I asked barely above a whisper.
But my best friend still heard me.
“To loosen you up, Natalie,” Amy said. She nudged me forward into the room on the stiletto heels she’d all but forced onto my feet before we left her flat.
“In a dress this tight?” I gestured to the skintight black designer dress she’d pulled out of her outrageous closet for me.
Bohemian was a bit more on-brand for me, but I’d relented when I saw how eager she was. We’d been spending all summer in Paris and managed to stay out of trouble. I shouldn’t have even been surprised that she’d gone looking for it our last weekend. Trouble was Amy’s middle name.
“You look hot. Now, shut up and have a good time.” Amy pushed through the packed penthouse party and into the mayhem.
People danced to the music blasting in through unseen speakers. Bodies crushed together, hands touching, hips grinding. It was possible a couple was having sex in a darkened corner. Alcohol flowed like a fountain. Cocaine