Page 79 of Beg, Borrow, or Steal

“And she’s wrong. Colette never should have said all—”

“No, Jack,” Emily snaps, finally meeting my eyes. “I never should have sent it in the first place.” She’s in her head, not listening to a word I’m saying. It’s clear Emily has grabbed on to these words from Colette like they’re the next ten commandments beamed down from God himself. It’s bullshit. I hate it. I hate Colette for sending this to Emily. And I hate that I was the one to encourage her to do it—especially when she had apprehension. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I should have let her listen to her gut.

And now I feel like she’s slipping from me while standing right there.

I take a step forward. “Hey. Please hear me. I don’t know what the hell that woman’s problem is, but I’ve read your book. And it’s incredible. Don’t lose hope because of this one rejection.”

Her eyes dart away and back to me, fury blazing hot. “It’s clearly not incredible. It’s junk. And maybe you were just horny enoughfor me that you overlooked serious issues and had me submit a terrible book to the best agent out there.”

I flinch against her words. “Don’t do that. Don’t diminish my opinion just because I also have feelings for you. That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair is that you rushed me to send it out before it was ready!”

“I thought itwasready, Emily. I really thought it was great. I still do! And this…this feedback, as shitty as it is, is a part of the job. Sometimes they’re right. And sometimes they’re just people having bad days and taking it out on your work. Just like you’re doing to me right now. Take some space from this and tomorrow, decide what you actually agree with and what—”

“How many rejections did you get when you submitted to agents?” Her hands are balled up at her sides and I hate it.

“You said you were done meeting me in the arena.”

Her hands are curled so tight I can see the whites of her knuckles. “This isn’t me competing with you. It’s me not wanting to receive comfort and advice from a successful author when he might not have ever experienced this in the first place.”

I sigh, knowing my answer isn’t going to help. “None.”

“And how many editors turned you down after you and your agent pitched?”

I sink my teeth into my lip until it hurts and look away. “None. The book went to auction.”

Emily blinks back fast and furious tears. “Exactly. You don’t know what this feels like—so don’t pretend you do.”

I want to argue, but she’s right. I don’t know what it’s like. My experience was rare. I had agents clawing to win me as their client, and that’s an entirely different situation than this. “Okay, you’re right. Then tell me how it feels. Don’t push me away. Let me help.”

“No,” she says, voice shaking, eyes drifting away from me again. She’s erecting a wall directly between us. “You have helped enough.I am done with it. I’m not submitting this again to anyone. It was stupid to do it to begin with. Clearly, I’m not made to be a writer.”

“Emily…”

She’s going for her laptop.

With a tense voice, I ask, “What are you doing?”

“Deleting it. Sending it to the garbage where it belongs.”

Before she can click a single button, I shut her laptop. Her eyes rise to mine, flaming.

“Take it out on me. All your anger. All your humiliation. Take it out on me because I can stand it. But I’ll be damned before I let you wreck something that you’ve worked so hard for. Something that you deserve. Something you love.”

“Maybe I don’t love it! Maybe it was just a nice distraction for a while but now I’m at the end of the road with it!” I refuse to read into that as a double meaning, even though I feel like she meant it to be one.

“That is absolute bullshit, and you know it. This was making you happy. Going for a dream of your own ignited a spark in you that you liked. And writing…you found a home in it. I know you did. I saw it in you.”

“Jack…” she says in a clipped tone, tears building in her eyes. “Just…can you go? I don’t…I don’twantto take it out on you. And I don’t want to be around anyone right now. Certainly not AJ Ranger.”

I grimace. “I can’t leave until you promise you’re not going to delete your book.”

She’s staring a hole through the laptop. “It’s none of your business. My decisions are my own.”

“Dammit, Emily, they don’t have to be, though! Just talk to me. Tell me exactly what hurts. Let me be here for you,” I say, my voice pleading now.

She’s fed up. Her thighs are flexed like she’s trying to grind thepain away under her heels. “I want to be alone, Jack. I want to deal with this in my own way like I always do.”

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