Page 32 of In Case You Didn't Know
And not one of my brothers even knows I write.
Alice finally looks up, like she can read my mind. “You’ve told your family, right?”
My laugh comes out a little strangled. “Um no. Not yet. I just... haven’t found the right time.”
Alice raises a brow. “You’ve had months.”
“It’s complicated,” I say weakly.
“It’s cowardly,” she replies, but not without sympathy. “And it’s killing your writing.”
The words hit their mark, clean and true. I grip the arms of my chair.
Alice’s face softens just a notch. “This book is going to be amazing. Your voice, your vulnerability, your fury, it’s all there, ready to be unleashed. But if you keep holding back because you’re afraid someone might see too much? This whole thing will fall apart.”
I nod. My throat is tight. My skin hot. I feel seen and exposed and, weirdly, grateful.
“Finish this chapter by the end of the week,” she says. “The real one. With the leash off.”
She picks up her coffee, already moving on to the next thing as I stand up to leave. “Oh, and Francine?” I glance back as I reach the door. “Tell the Commander I said he’s allowed to wreck her. That’s what we’re here for.”
My mind is still reeling as I walk out of the building, Alice’s words echoing in my ears like a volley of bullets.
Producers are interested. Marketing is already rolling. Your name’s going to be big.
I step into the bright Manhattan afternoon, squinting against the glare. The sidewalk is busy, full of honking horns, clacking heels, and food cart steam. And I’m one more heartbeat away from a full-on panic attack when I hear it:
“Francine?”
I freeze. That voice doesn’t belong here.
I turn slowly, dread curdling in my stomach like bad milk.
Sure enough, my oldest brother is standing at the curb, one hand adjusting the cuff of his expensive navy suit, the other holding a phone like he’s about to launch into a press conference. His gray hair gleams in the sun, and his familiar frown deepens as his eyes lock on me.
“Myles?” I manage, trying to force a casual smile. “What are you doing in the city?”
“I had a meeting. You?”
I falter for half a second. “Just… meeting a friend.”
His gaze shifts past me to the building’s entrance, where the publisher’s name is etched in a very large, very obvious sign above the door.
“A friend who works in publishing?”
“She’s in… marketing,” I say. It’s technically not a lie. Alice does have a marketing department.Somewhere.
Myles gives me a look that probably works wonders in boardrooms, when he wants his minions to fall at his feet. “And does this marketing friend have a name?”
He used to work in publishing. He still has way too many connections for me to lie without panicking. I have to think fast.
“Uh-huh,” I say, scrambling. “Jessica. She’s new. I was just helping her… settle in.”
He narrows his eyes, and I can practically feel the older brother radar scanning me for inconsistencies. “Hmm.”
I grip my notebook tighter. “What was your meeting about?” I ask, desperate to change the subject.
“Security.” His mouth twitches like he just remembered something funny. “We’re upgrading our systems. You should probably get a commission. I’m spending a lot of money with the Fitzgeralds right now.”
