The Romance Plan - Lila Monroe Page 0,17

He leads us inside, our footsteps echoing on the marble floor of the foyer and through the massive house. I try not to gawp too openly, but it’s hard. Yards of pink and purple satin and velvet everywhere. A massive white piano. Toile wallpaper depicting what looks to my quick glance like a Roman orgy.

This is MTV Cribs: Romance Novelist Edition, and I’m loving it.

The butler leads us past a powder room, where I spy what I’m pretty sure is a gold toilet through the open door, and out onto a wide, lushly landscaped pool deck that offers a breathtaking view of the Atlantic. “Wait here,” he instructs, nodding at an outdoor sofa upholstered in an aggressive chintz. “I’ll tell Ms. Lange you’ve arrived.”

Once he’s gone Liam looks at me with suspicion. “I thought you said she was expecting you,” he says.

I tilt my head to the side, like I’m thinking about it. “Did I, though?” I ask. “I’m pretty sure what I said was that I was driving out to meet her.” I smile hopefully. “Which is what we’ve done!”

Liam frowns. “But you’ve spoken on the phone.”

I wrinkle my nose, knowing that I’ve stalled as long as I possibly can at this point. The jig is well and truly up. “So, here’s the thing,” I admit, perching on the edge of the patio table. “When I said Verity and I had done an editorial call I may have been… exaggerating a little bit.”

“Exaggerating?” Liam repeats. “Meaning what, exactly?”

“Meaning I’ve never actually talked to her.”

Liam’s eyes widen. “What?”

“It’ll be fine,” I assure him quickly. “Like you said back at the office: No time like the present. And we’re here now, aren’t we?”

“I’ll say.” He looks back at the house, scorn and contempt written all over his face. You’d think we were waiting outside a house of ill repute. Or a Hot Topic.

“Look,” I tell him finally. “If you’re going to be such a grouch about the whole thing, do me a favor and let me do the talking here, okay?”

Liam crosses his arms. “What does that mean?”

“I’m just saying, you might want to rethink your—” I break off and wave my hand at him in a way that’s meant to communicate tone, attitude, and general approach to life. “I’ve handled a lot of authors in my career, and they’re a delicate breed, you know? Trust me, the best way to handle this is going to be to stroke her ego a little bit.”

Liam doesn’t look convinced. “I mean, I’ll defer to your expertise,” he says, in a voice like he’s doing me some kind of favor, “but she’s not exactly writing the great American novel here.”

That irritates me. Nothing gets my back up as fast as wholesale dismissal of romance novels, especially from somebody who has no idea what they’re talking about. Still, I let it go for now. “Listen,” I tell him. “I’ve been doing this a long time, all right? Verity has sold a lot of books—”

“Sure, for other publishers—”

“And for all we know she’s suffering from writer’s block—”

Liam scoffs. “What could she possibly have to be blocked about?” he demands. “For god’s sake, I could write a romance novel. Insert tab A into slot B, add some panting, a throbbing member or two—”

I jump to my feet. “I know you did not just say ‘throbbing member’ to me.”

Liam’s cheeks get the tiniest bit pink at that, and I know we’re both thinking about that kiss outside the ice cream shop. I have a brief flashback to last night’s little bathtub-vibrator adventure, and push it out of my head as quickly as possible.

“I’m sorry,” he says, sounding strangled. “I certainly don’t mean to be… inappropriate with you. But acting like this woman is some sort of artistic genius is simply delusional—”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” I tell him, holding a hand up. I know I should probably let this go. After all, he’s my boss, and he’s made it perfectly clear what thin ice I’m on to begin with. But I’ve spent one too many Tinder dates smiling gamely while pretentious Hemingway fanboys talk crap about what I do. What I love. What I’m passionate about. “First of all, have you ever read a romance novel?”

“Well,” Liam admits. “No.”

“No,” I tell him triumphantly, “I didn’t think so. So maybe you should do a little research into your product before you go dismissing it, boss man.”

Liam shakes his head. “I hardly think—”

“Second of all,” I interrupt, “as