stop talking in circles?” she snapped. “I stayed up all night and read the whole thing.”
My stomach hit the floor. “Am I still invited for Memorial Day?”
“Why wouldn’t you be?” Her tone grew suspicious.
“Because I slaughtered the ending?” I rubbed my temples, waiting for the ax to fall.
“Oh, stop being humble. Noah, it was beautiful! The moment in the aspen grove when Jameson sees—”
“What?” I sat straight up, my laptop crashing to the floor. “Jameson…” That wasn’t what happened. At least, not in the version they’d published. Adam. “Mom, do you have the book there with you?”
“Yes. Noah, what’s going on?”
“I’m not sure, honestly. Do me a favor and flip to the front, where the copyright is.” Adam had to have printed a special edition for her. Holy shit, I owed him big time.
“I’m there.”
“Is it a special edition?”
“Well, not if first editions are special.”
What the actual hell? I grabbed my laptop off the floor and opened the first Google alert. It was the Times and the first line knocked me on my ass.
HARRISON SEAMLESSLY BLENDS STANTON’S VISION—
“Mom, I love you, but I have to go.” I clicked down the row of alerts. They all said variations of the same thing.
“Okay. I love you, Noah. You should get more sleep,” she said in that kindly authoritarian way she’d always had.
“I will. Love you, too.” I hung up and dialed Adam.
He picked up on the first ring.
“Welcome home! How was the trip? You fired up to start next year’s release?” Why was everyone so damned chipper this morning?
“Harrison seamlessly blends Stanton’s vision with his own take on classic romance. This one shouldn’t be missed. The Times,” I read.
“Nice!”
“Are you serious? How about this one?” I snapped. “We’ve been had. How the bait and switch of the decade led to a surprised—and relieved—fandom. The Tribune.” My hands curled into fists.
“Not bad. Almost looks like we meant to do it, huh?”
“Adam,” I growled.
“Noah.”
“What the hell did you do to my book?” I roared. It was all ruined. Everything I’d put on the line for her had been ripped away. She’d never forgive me for this—never trust me, no matter how much time I gave her.
“Exactly what I was told to do by the only person who had the contractual right to tell me to do it,” he said slowly.
There was only one person who could approve changes without me, and her time was officially up.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Georgia
“Talk about swoon,” Hazel sighed.
“Yeah, that was a good part.” I switched the phone to my other ear and finished washing the dirt off my hands. The seedlings were coming along, and in just a few weeks, they’d be strong enough to be transplanted into the garden. Right in time for the weather to be kind enough to allow it.
“And holy wedding-night scene, Batman. I have to know, was that your gran? Or is there a little Noah in there, because it was so hot that I took myself down to Owen’s office—”
“Stop right there, because I do not need that mental picture the next time I go to the dentist.” I dried off my hands and tried not to think of exactly how much of that was Noah. Guess he’d set out to prove me wrong about the unsatisfying comment I’d made that day in the bookstore.
“Fine, but seriously. Hot.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said as the doorbell rang.
“You sure you don’t want to come over for dinner?” she asked as I walked through the hallway and into the foyer. “I hate the thought of you eating pizza on a night like tonight. You should be celebrating. Gran would have loved this book.”
“I’m fine, and yeah, she sure would have. Hold up, my pizza is here.” I swung open the door. My heart slammed to a standstill, then took off at a gallop.
“Georgia.” Noah stood in my doorway, glaring down at me with a smolder that instantly turned my mouth to ash.
“Hazel, I have to go.”
“Really? You won’t reconsider? Because we’d love to have you.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Noah’s here,” I said as casually as I could manage given the fact that I couldn’t breathe. Three months of longing slammed into me with the force of a wrecking ball.
“Oh, good. Ask him about the sex scene, would you?” she quipped.
He arched a dark brow, obviously having heard her.
“Eh, I think that conversation might have to wait. He looks a little perturbed.” My grip tightened on the door handle simply to keep myself standing. Self-preservation demanded I look away from those