Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 104305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
“Well, you can rest assured I know what I’m doing. Ring me up.”
“But—”
“Ring me up,” he said a little louder and a lot more forcefully. “Or are you refusing to sell the books to me?”
I shrugged. “You want them, you can have them. I can always order more.” I added a grin onto that second statement.
“I’m going to ask you not to.”
That made me pause. “Why? Why don’t you want anyone reading them? Do they offend your delicate sensibilities in some way?” I knew exactly why Chase Jones didn’t want them on the shelf. But until he admitted who he was, then I was going to act like I didn’t know.
“Hardly.”
“You know Dolly is a huge fan of this author. She’s going to be upset that they’re all gone.”
“She’ll get over it.” He yanked his wallet from his back pocket. “Ring me up or I’m just going to throw some cash at you and hope it’s enough.”
I stared at him and he stared back in a silent challenge.
When my eyes narrowed, so did his.
When I didn’t move to ring him up, one of his dark eyebrows lifted ever so slowly.
“I have a suggestion for another book for you. I think I have a copy in stock. It’s called, How to Win Friends & Influence People.”
“I don’t need that.”
“I disagree.”
“Then we’ll have to agree to disagree.”
Oh, he was a real peach.
“Ring me up.”
“That book might even teach you the importance of the word ‘please.’ I don’t remember because it’s been so long since I’ve read it.”
When he started to count the books piled on the counter, my attention got caught on his moving lips as he silently figured out the amount he owed me.
“When are you going to admit it? Or should I continue to pretend I don’t know?”
He finished counting silently and then lifted his eyes to mine. “Admit what?”
I grabbed the top book on one of the stacks, turned it until the back copy was facing him and tapped his photo using my middle finger.
His gaze dropped to where I was pointing, his expression went from irritated to totally blank, he licked his lips and then pressed them together tightly.
His tongue sliding over his full lips affected me way more than it should… since he was a dick.
And I doubted he even liked dick. At least, more than his own.
Even if he did, I reminded myself that he had a stick shoved so far up his ass, there was no room for anything else. Like someone else’s dick. Someone else possibly being me.
I tipped my head to the side. “You’re really taking this whole remaining anonymous thing to an extreme by buying up all your books.”
“I have my reasons.”
“They’re not good ones.”
“That’s not for you to decide.”
Finally I said, “You’re right.” Since this was just another skirmish in what might be a drawn out war, I could let it go for now.
I heard him release a relieved sigh when I began to scan all the books and put them in an empty box I had behind the counter.
We didn’t say another word to each other until after I gave him the total and he paid.
Normally, I’d offer to carry the box to the customer’s car, but Chase was more than capable of carrying the heavy box himself.
But after he grabbed it, he slid it to the edge of the counter and paused. “Any more used copies come back, put them aside for me. I want them.”
“So, what do you plan to do with all of them?”
“Burn them.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want anyone to know I’m here. Who I am.”
“Why?” I repeated.
“You don’t need to know that. Just do what I’m asking.”
“You’re not asking, you’re ordering me.”
“Then do what I’m ordering.”
“I know you’re new around here but… I don’t take orders from anyone.”
“Let’s make it a request.”
“That I can disregard.”
“Of course, you can.” Chase leaned in and locked his eyes with mine. “But you won’t. As the author, I’m requesting you hold any copies of my books for me.”
“Instead of buying and burning them all, I’d prefer if you would sign them instead.”
“No.”
“You’ll be heralded as a celebrity around here.”
“I’m not a celebrity,” he growled. “That’s like saying Stephen King or George R. R. Martin is a celebrity.”
“They aren’t?”
“I consider them talented artists. Creatives. Not celebrities. They shouldn’t be put on that pedestal.”
“Why not?”
His brow dropped low. “Why do you constantly question me?”
“Why are you so damn irritable all the time?”
“Why do you feel the need to be in my business?”
“I don’t,” I answered, matching his energy. “And you’re standing in my business right now.”
“That’s not the same.”
“You do know that anyone can easily find your picture online. Or even at the back of the e-books.”
“Right, but that takes work. They’re less likely to realize it’s me.”
“You’re fooling yourself.”
“And you may be right. Let me be a fool then.”