To Hate Adam Connor

I grinned at her, and she nodded with a straight face.

“Now, don’t go to bed too late, and we’ll talk more about this in the morning.”

“Okay, Mom,” I yelled as I watched them walk back into the house, hand in hand. “By the way, thank you so much for adopting me, guys!”

“God, no,” Jason said as he got ready to close the door. “We’re not adopting you, Lucy.”

“So, you’re thinking about it? Great! I can’t wait to call you Daddy, Jason!”

With a smile playing on his lips, he shook his head and slid the glass door closed.

Laughing to myself, I lay back down on the grass, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. It was a beautiful night—not too hot, not too chilly, perfect temperature for September. I kept my eyes closed and imagined myself standing on the edge of a cliff, my arms wide open as the wind caressed my skin and played with my hair, a big smile spreading across my face.

Chapter Three

Lucy

“I’m sorry, Lucy.”

“Can you two please stop apologizing? I told you it’s okay. Jesus, you’re leaving me in a palace; I’m pretty sure I’ll manage to survive without you two,” I assured Olive for the tenth time as I sat cross-legged in the middle of their bed.

Olive gave me an apologizing look and glanced back at Jason while she continued to throw random clothes into a big suitcase. “Flying to London for the promotion stuff wasn’t on the schedule for at least another week. Why did they switch the timeline at the last minute like this?”

So…remember how I mentioned my talented friend writing a book that made the bestseller lists in no time? Well, that book, Soul Ache, also got made into a movie. The leading actor? Jason Thorn, of course. How did you think they met again after so many years? She wrote a goddamned book inspired by him and voila! She got the dream guy with her dream job.

“You don’t have to hurry, Olive,” Jason said as he captured Olive’s hand and dropped a kiss on her palm. “We still have two hours until they pick us up.”

“You think two hours is enough time to decide what to take with you for a weeklong trip? They’ll follow us everywhere; I don’t want them to write a whole damn article about how messy I look next to you and that maybe I should get my nose out of my books if I don’t want to lose you.”

“They already wrote that, Olive,” I chimed in, just to be helpful.

“That’s exactly my point!” she exclaimed as she started taking clothes back out of her suitcase. “I don’t want to read that again.”

Jason grabbed her attention as he zipped up his own small suitcase, which he’d packed in ten minutes. “I love it when you look messy. It reminds me of how good you look after I love you a little.”

“Ah,” I groaned, trying to hide my smile and doing a piss poor job of it. “Your kid is in the room. Gross.”

He pressed his lips against Olive’s hair, and I noticed how her body relaxed a little. “But,” he continued, “I think I’m gonna wait for you in the living room. I need to call Tom anyway.”

Tom was his agent, and even though he probably did need to call him, I would’ve bet a thousand dollars he was more interested in fleeing the scene than discussing his potential next project with his agent.

“Chicken shit,” I murmured; he gave me a quick wink before exiting the room.

“Help?” Olive asked, looking at me hopefully.

“Oh, I guess I can help,” I relented. “But you’re not taking that black dress with you. You’re not going to a funeral. This is your movie, more than it is his, actually. And this is not the premiere, right?” I crawled off the bed and headed toward her gigantic closet. Olive was right behind me.

“It is still happening, the premiere in London, I mean, but it is after the LA and New York premieres. This London trip is just interviews and a few talk shows.”

“You’re doing the shows too?”

She shook her head. “As much as Megan would’ve loved that, I said no to live shows. We’ll do a few of the recorded interviews together, but that’s it. I don’t want to be seen that much. That’s his job, and that’s all the excitement I can handle anyway.”

“Well, okay. Then you definitely don’t need this floor-length dress,” I said, fishing out another black dress she wouldn’t need at all.

Half an hour later we emerged from her bedroom with enough clothes packed to hold her over for at least a month.

“The car is here,” Jason said as soon he saw us wheeling two suitcases toward the front door.

“Already?” Olive and I asked at the same time.

“Yes,” Jason said, reaching to take the suitcase out of Olive’s hand. “There was a change in the schedule.”

“Oh, I’m gonna miss you.” She gave me a tight hug and followed Jason outside. “I’m really sorry for leaving you like this. I swear as soon as I’m back—”

“You’ll make it up to me,” I said, finishing her sentence before she could get into another long-winded apology. “It’s only a week, Olive. Pray for me while you’re over there so I can find a job by the time you guys come back.”

“About that,” she murmured as she sat down on the bench right outside their door to put on her shoes. “I sent you an email with a few contact numbers attached to it. While we are on our way to the airport I’ll forward you some emails too.”

“And what do you want me to do with those emails again?”

“Not much. I want you to play my agent.”

Done with her shoes, she got up and stood in front of me.

“Play your agent?” I asked, confused.

“Look, you don’t want to be an accountant. There. I said it. You might be good with numbers, but that’s not your calling. And before you say no—”

“Olive?” Jason called out, holding the passenger door open for his wife. Olive looked over her shoulder. “We have to leave. Can you call Lucy on the way to the airport?”

“I’m coming, just give me a second.”

When she turned back to look at me, I had a frown on my face. “Olive—”

“I’m not doing it for you, Lucy. I’m asking for your help. You flaked on me when I needed to talk to the movie studio the first time, so you can’t say no to this too. I talked to a good number of agents, and we don’t see eye to eye. I doubt they even read my book. You inhaled every line of that book; if someone has to sell it, I want it to be you. And before you say it, if I start negotiating for future book and audiobook deals, I won’t have a single minute to write. You’ll help your friend out, right? ’Cause you’re the bestest of the best friends, right?” She lifted her eyebrows, waiting on an answer from me.

“Olive, I have a business major. I know nothing about being a literary agent.”

She started to back away from me and lifted her hands up. “Just add up some numbers then multiply them, do whatever the hell you do with numbers, and find out which deal is better for me. I have to make a decision before I’m done writing.”

“I don’t think the numbers should be your only worry, Olive,” I yelled after her as she headed toward the black car. “What are they offering you in terms of marketing? Are they planning something you couldn’t do yourself if you were to self-publish again?”