Page 57 of Love, Magic and Misfortune
At this, Jasper slowly turned his head, the look on his tearstained face something like dread. “What?”
“René told me everything—about how you’re actually Ambrose Marcello and write all the books but pay him to represent you in public, and that you told him all your female characters are based off of me.”
Jasper jerked, his eyes wide with disbelief. He shifted to stand, but Violet gripped his hand and tugged him so that he tumbled back down into his seated position beside her. She smiled. “Stay calm.”
“No,” Jasper exclaimed. “This—this is a severe breach of confidentiality. He isn’t supposed to tell anyone these things. What purpose does he serve if he tells people?”
“Not ‘people.’ Only me,” Violet argued, their hands still clasped as she watched him.
“God…” He covered his face with his free hand. “Humiliating.”
“I think you’re very sweet and incredibly talented. Good grief. How can you write such descriptive books about places and smells and scenes when you never leave your house? You haven’t been to any of these places, have you?”
He dropped his hand, staring straight forward. “Research. I have a lot of free time.”
“You do wonders with that time.”
“Mm,” he groaned, then laid his head back against the wall with his eyes closed.
“I won’t tell anyone that we have an internationally recognized and critically acclaimed author living in our small town.” Violet smiled. “Or that you’re a mouse.”
“Rat.”
“You’re wrong. Should I kiss you? Will that break the curse?”
“I already told you this is not a fairytale.”
“Could be worth a try though?”
“No.”
Violet snorted in a laugh. “Are you officially saying ‘no’ to me kissing you?”
“Yes. You shouldn’t even be here. I have nothing good to offer you—nothing even close to what you deserve.”
Sneering, Violet reached over and poked him in the waist, making him flinch away, but she kept a firm hold of his hand in hers. “I’mthe one who decides what I want and deserve. Got it?”
“Hm,” he grunted, still leaning away.
“Jasper Oliver Laurent—”
“Alright. I hear you.”
“Can we go sit on the couch together near the fireplace? It’s cold under this window.”
Jasper nodded, shifting to stand. He helped pull Violet upright as well. “I… I’ll make a new pot of tea. This one is probably cold now.”
* * *
In the end,they decided to have coffee instead, and Jasper sat in the armchair, markedly isolated from Violet’s position on the couch. But she didn’t say anything. The fact that he was opening up to her at all was a true miracle. A small kind of magic in and of itself.
She held the warm coffee cup between her palms and against her thigh, mulling everything over. Jasper sipped from his cup. Despite the silence, the atmosphere was peaceful. Comfortable.
“Why was your mother so…”
“Disgusted?” Jasper offered. “Repulsed?”
“Yes.”
