“Then, we’ll self-publish it. You’ll have to find a new editor, but I have a couple of people in mind I think would be thrilled to work with you.”
Asher breathed a little easier. Clearly, she’d already given the matter a lot of thought, which meant whatever he decided, she probably wouldn’t fight him too hard on it.
“Thank you, Becca.” God, he was so fucking grateful to have her in his corner.
“Don’t mention it. That’s what I do.”
“And you’re damn good at it.”
Becca laughed. “I am, aren’t I?”
“And so modest.”
“Whatever.” She made a clicking sound with her tongue over the line. “Look, I’ll get the legal guys on it and see if we can’t get you out of this contract by the end of next week. While I’m taking care of things on my end, you figure out what you want to do with this manuscript.”
“And if I decide to publish it myself?”
“You wouldn’t be the first.”
Asher took a moment to consider what he wanted to say. He hadn’t told anyone about the new project. Ofcourse, he’d told Cameron he had started something new, but that had been about the extent of it. Since he hadn’t been sure he would finish the manuscript, he definitely hadn’t brought it up to Becca. With new possibilities opening up to him, he figured it was probably time to change that.
“I’ve been working on something new.”
“Oh?”
“I don’t want to say too much about it right now, but it’s…different.”
There was a long pause before Becca asked, “Different how?”
“Just different,” he hedged. “Probably not what people will expect from me.”
“Is it good?”
Asher blinked at the question. “Yeah,” he answered after a moment. “It’s really good. I think it might be the best thing I’ve ever written.”
“Okay,” Becca said without a hint of hesitation. “We’ll find a market for it, then.”
He could fucking kiss her.
Though, honestly, he didn’t know why he was so surprised. Not once in twelve years had she ever given him a reason to doubt her. She’d always had his back, had always acted in his best interests. With his entire life turned upside down, it was comforting to know that some things hadn’t changed.
“You’re the best.”
“I know,” she quipped. “Now, I need to make some phone calls. I’m glad you’re excited about the new project, but if you don’t finish that Marshall Kane book, your readers are going to riot.”
She wasn’t exaggerating. “I’ll finish it,” he promised. “Just get me out of that contract.”
“That’s the plan.”
Once they’d said their goodbyes, Asher left his phone on the desk and headed down the stairs to find coffee. The aroma of freshly brewed dark roast greeted him at the bottom of the staircase, but it was the voice he heard coming from the kitchen that had him hurrying his footsteps.
“Yes, I promise.” Cameron sat on a barstool at the island, his phone pressed to his ear and a disgruntled frown on his lips. He looked up when Asher entered the room and shook his head. “No, mom, that’s not what I said.” He sighed. “Yes, fine, I’ll ask him. Yes, I promise. Okay, I love you, too.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Goodbye, mother.”
Disconnecting the call, he dropped his phone to the countertop and slid off the barstool. “I’m supposed to invite you to Thanksgiving dinner at my parents’ house. I’m also supposed to tell you that you are in no way obligated to come, but my mother would be very pleased if you did.”
Hooking his index fingers in Cameron’s belt loops, Asher tugged him forward by the hips and bent to press a kiss to his frowning mouth. “Do you want me to come?”
“I do.” He didn’t sound happy about it, though. “I don’t want to pressure you. We haven’t been together that long, and I get that this is a big step, but—”
