Smut University - Volume 4 Page 4

  I’d been crying for the past twenty-four hours, ever since Luke had brought me home. He was sweet when he implored me to let him stay, but I couldn’t even answer him because I was so hurt. I was anxious to read my contract and to find out if I was royally screwed, and to get into the privacy of my apartment before I fell apart. In my heart, I already knew the answer. I’d rushed inside and scrambled to pull out the contract from Bloom and Wandough.

  After twenty minutes, I finally found the ghostwriter clause in the fine print on the second to last page. It was one sentence buried in the “all future work” paragraph. I wanted to kick myself. It was barely mentioned, but there it was. I’d be paid a fee of ten to fifty thousand dollars depending on the success of the author I was writing for. Even now, after a full day of processing, I still couldn’t fully wrap my head around how monumentally stupid I was. Sure, Gloria and Jax may have taken advantage of my ignorance of the industry, but I should have known better than to sign the fucking thing without reading every word at least ten times.

  It had to be late into the evening on Saturday night, and I was utterly exhausted. I prayed Michelle was going out with her boyfriend, so she’d stop looking at me with that pitiful sympathetic expression on her face. I just wanted to be alone, fall into unconsciousness and stop thinking. I wanted to stop feeling.

  Luke had called or texted almost as much as Jax had been doing, but I didn’t want to talk to either of them. Luke worked so closely with Jax and he was the first one to assume the worst of him. I was just tired of hearing it. Two years working together had to give him a good sense of Jaxon’s true character. Ugh. I moaned as the realization sunk in.

  I didn’t want to call my parents. They’d just lecture me about how stupid I was to hand over my manuscript so trustingly and sign a contract without having a lawyer look it over. It wouldn’t matter that I was in love and I didn’t think there was any chance Jax would take advantage of me or deliver me to someone who would use me so badly.

  I put my hand to my aching head and acknowledged I had to get out of the tub. The water was barely lukewarm, and I’d drained some out and added more hot water by increments until the water heater was barren.

  For the first time in almost three years, I hated this apartment. I hated New York. I hated writing. I hated Jax for being so fucking perfect that I let the stars in my eyes blind me like every other idiot woman that laid eyes on him or read his books. Most of all, I hated myself for being so dumb.

  A loud knock on the door startled me. Water splashed over the side of the tub as my body jerked. “Addy! Mark wants to go out and it’s too late for me to take a shower, but I want to know you’re okay before I go!”

  “I’m okay,” I answered, pushing out of the tub and starting to rise. I spoke loud enough to make sure she could hear me this time. “I’m sorry that I took so long in here.”

  The towel I had laid by the tub was now soggy on one side from the water that sloshed from the tub. I picked it up and wrung it out over the now draining bath. The toilet seat was closed, and absently, I sank down on it, half assed draping the damp towel around my body.

  “Are you coming out?” Michelle asked, concerned.

  “Yes. I will in a couple of minutes. You go ahead and go.”

  My eyes focused on the wrinkled skin of my fingers and I couldn’t help but wonder how long I’d been soaking in the water. I’d wanted time to pass until it didn’t hurt so much.

  “Can you at least open the door?”

  The bathroom was small enough that I could simply lean forward from my sitting position, unlock it and turn the knob. I opened it about five inches. “See? I’m out.”

  “Do you want to come with us? We’re just going to grab a bite to eat and go to a movie.”

  I shook my head. “Nah,” I muttered. “Thanks, though.”

  “Maybe I should stay in with you?”

  My hair was still in the messy bun I’d created on Friday morning, but there were wet tendrils hanging down around my face and neck, probably full of snarls. “I just want to go to sleep. I have a headache and I’m going to take some Ibuprofen and crawl into bed. I think I’ll binge-watch something on Netflix.”

  “Are you sure? You look like shit.”

  I stood and wrapped the towel closer around me and pulled the door all the way open, passing my friend who was clearly eyeing me closely. “All the more reason to stay in. I just don’t want to be around people tonight. I have a lot to process and I have to figure things out.”

  Michelle was dressed in skinny jeans, an over-sized moss green sweater and black high-heeled ankle boots. Her blonde hair had big wavy curls and her make-up was light.

  “I know.” Her expression was sad. “I know it’s not my place, but you really should call the professor. I know you don’t want to know what he said, but you need to hear this. Addy. He said he’d fix it, but he said if the ghostwriter thing is in your contract, he might not be able to.” She blurted the words before I could stop her. “There was more to it, but I can’t remember it all.”

  I hunted down the remote to the small flat screen and then crawled into my twin bed, wet towel and all. “Okay,” was all I said, but my mind argued that this should never have happened in the first place. “Well, it is in the fine print of my contract. I guess… I’m screwed,” I said, simply, offering a defeated shrug. “Cest la vie”.

  I was staring straight at the TV, as I flipped it on and started searching through the channels. I just wanted some white background noise that would allow me to sleep and not think.

  Michelle hovered at the foot of my bed. “I bet he will still do what he can, Addy. You should have seen him. I’d never seen him out of a suit, but he was wearing this big mountain man parka and he looked like he hadn’t shaved in two days. It was the first time I’d seen him without his hair perfect and dressed so unkempt, and, well, he looked… tormented.”

  I sucked in a slow, deep breath. My lungs hurt as they filled and exhaled just as slowly. Good! My heart screamed as I continued to flip through the channels, not really seeing them. My eyes blurred with a fresh batch of tears. “I’ll think about it. You just go have fun with Mark.”

  “You don’t really think he did this, do you? He said he told you not to sign the ghostwriter thing.”

  It would be so humiliating to admit that Gloria snuck something in, but Michelle was too smart to know I wouldn’t be bawling my eyes out if I’d known about it in advance.

  “He did, but maybe it was all part of a plan he and Gloria cooked up to steal my book! He was experiencing writer’s block for the first time ever, and maybe he was freaking out. I don’t know, but it’s just so hard to believe she’d go behind his back without his knowledge. She’d be risking her biggest client and one thing I’m sure of, Jaxon Michaels would not tolerate defiance. They’ve been together for years and he just met me a few months ago. I mean, think about it! Why wouldn’t he be all in?” I almost laughed hysterically. If the whole situation wasn’t so tragic, it would play out like one of those comedy of errors skits you see in community theater or old variety shows.

  “Well, I don’t think he would lie to you like that.” Michelle was adamant.

  I rolled my eyes in disbelief. Of course, she’d be on his side. “I just need some time to deal with it, Michelle. Can you just… go?”

  I shot her a mean look, hoping it would work to make her walk out. Why was she making me think about this right now?

  Her expression hardened. “Well, I think you’ve got your head so far up your ass you’re rolled into a donut! Professor Michaels couldn’t do that! You should at least talk to him before you blame him for everything,” She hissed and yanked her coat from the closet, stuffing her arms into it and pulling it on, angrily.

  Annoyance flared and I bristled, pulling my covers up closer to my chin and bunching them in my hand. “I’m going to, but I know he was struggling to write his own book! I saw it myself because of all the time we spent together, Michelle. You don�
��t know everything!”

  “What I want to know is, why are you so quick to think the worst of him?” she spat.

  I sat up and flung back the covers, not caring if my nakedness showed. “I don’t want to, Michelle, but what if it’s true?” I shouted. “If he did this, he’s made a fool of me and broke my heart! That’s worse than stealing the manuscript I spent two years of my life writing! I can’t risk being hurt like this again!” Tears started to fall, and I openly sobbed pulling the covers over my head. Please just let her leave, my heart begged.

  “If is the operative word! I think you’re just pissed at yourself for signing that contract and it’s easier to take it out on him then take responsibility!” she huffed indignantly.

  I sat up abruptly. I scowled at her. “What, do you want to fuck him now? Why are you so sure he’s so innocent?” My heart was exploding inside my chest and I struggled to breath. I used the back of my hand to wipe at the tears that were now streaming down my face as my whole body shook. She was right. It was my fault for signing the contract, but there was still a chance Jax was in on it and I couldn’t bear the thought.

  Michelle sat down next to me and put one arm around me and used the other to pull my comforter around my naked body. “I’m just saying that you should talk him. That’s all.”

  “I can’t let him see me like thu-this,” I cried. I leaned my head against hers as I cried my heart out. “I can’t bear to hear him admit he used me. I love him so much. I just can’t bare that he could be so much less than I thu-thought.”

  Michelle still held me close and rubbed my back through the quilt. “I know it hurts but take the weekend to get yourself together and then when you’re stronger, go see him, Addy. Don’t torture yourself until you know what the truth really is. I think he’s all that he seems, and more. You’ve been so happy; I can’t believe that was all a scam. Please go see him.”

  “I will, but I can’t right now. My book is lost to me! I worked so fucking hard on it and I pinned all my hopes and dreams to it…” Another sob burst forth. “And, on Jax. Now it’s all gone to shit! Everything’s ruined!”

  My friend wrapped her arms around me and held on tight while I cried tears that I thought were all dried up.

  * * *

  My cell phone rang from where I’d placed it on the floor next to my bed. The ninth episode of Suits was still playing on Netflix, indicating how long I’d been sleeping. I’d started the series at the beginning before I fell into an exhausted sleep, hoping the white noise would keep my brain occupied just enough to let me sleep more soundly. It had worked wonders.

  I glanced across the room to see Michelle’s bed was still made. She must have stayed the entire night at Mark’s. Åfter her front row seat at my pity party, who could blame her?

  I glanced at the phone. It was from a number I didn’t recognize. I frowned at the screen as it blinked from my hand. I could have sworn I shut this thing off.

  I used my thumb to swipe right. “Hello?” My voice sounded groggy, even to me.

  “Miss Tomms?” A deep, masculine voice asked.

  I sat up in bed and pushed the hair off my face with my free hand. “Yes?”

  “Good morning. Forgive me for calling on Sunday morning, but my brother insisted. I’m Jefferson Michaels.”

  I could feel a river of heat flushing my cheeks at his mere name. Jax had mentioned his brother in passing a few times, but I’d yet to meet him. “Yes?”

  “You may know that I’m an attorney and my family firm would like to represent you in any suit you are planning to take up with Bloom & Wandough or any publishing houses.”

  “I don’t have the money to pay any big-time attorney, but thank you, anyway.” I began to move the phone away from my ear to end the call.

  “Wait, please don’t hang up,” he implored. “There will be no fee, miss.”

  “I don’t understand?”

  “Jaxon is my brother, which should explain everything.” He chuckled. “May I call you Addison?” His voice was pleasant and soothing in the lawyerly way that made clients believe everything would be okay and end up in their favor.

  Jax was the only one who called me that. “Addy,” I supplied.

  “Addy, it is. I’m trying to assess the situation, so I’d like to get a copy of your contract with your agency. Would that be possible?”

  “Yes, I suppose, but I read though it yesterday. There is a clause about ghostwriting in it.”

  “Well, I’d still like to take a look. Do you have a copy of the contract you can share with me? I can send someone over to pick it up, then get the original back to you after the copy has been made for the file.”

  I hesitated. Maybe this was another of Gloria’s tricks. How did I know this was really Jax’s brother? And if it was, was this a conflict of interest?

  “Is Jax, um… where is he on all of this?” The question ripped out of me. “I’m thinking you representing us both may be a conflict of interest.”

  “Well, it would be if you were on opposite sides of the fight. As it is, you’ll both be suing the agency and maybe the publisher to break both of your contracts.”

  A shiver ran through me, remembering Gloria’s words. The negative publicity would hurt Jax’s career both in publishing and, worse, with NYU. I could feel myself flush. I didn’t want to do that.

  “The negative publicity of all of this could be very bad for his career. It might not be worth it.”

  “First things first. Let me look at your contract, and his, then we’ll make a game plan.”

  “I can bring it to your office tomorrow,” I offered.

  “Well, you can if you’d like, but I’d like to get started working on it later today, if possible. My brother is impatient, as I’m sure you know.”

  A small ray of hope bloomed inside me. If Jax was asking his brother to work on setting things straight, then maybe he wasn’t involved after all. “Um, do you have a fax number? Or, I can email a scan?”

  “Of course.” Jefferson rattled off his personal email at an impressive sounding law firm. I scrambled from the bed to search for something to write on, and realized I was still naked from the shower the evening before when I’d crawled into bed. The cold air flooded my skin as I reached for the towel that was now bunched up under the comforter. I wrapped it around me with one hand and wrote the information furiously on the back of an old receipt I’d found in my purse.

  “Okay, I have it.”

  “Can you send it as soon as possible? I’ll look it over, then give you a call back to discuss.”

  “Do you really think I can get out of this?”

  “It depends on how the contract is written and when it was signed. Let me take a look.”

  “Thank you. I’m so grateful for your help.”

  “Of course. Do me a favor, don’t speak to anyone about this until you speak to me. Not even Jax. He’s too close to this issue and he needs to chill out until I figure out what is in both of your best interests. I’ll be in touch. Bye, now.”

  “Goodbye.”

  When I hung up, I walked back to the bed and crawled under the covers. I needed to get dressed, but more, I needed to read the fifteen text messages I’d been avoiding.

  The first one made my heart fall.

  Why in the fuck didn’t you listen to me?

  I told you not to sign that goddamned contract!

  4

  It was finally Monday morning. Yesterday had been torture. Pacing around my apartment, going for a run in Central Park even though it was only fifteen degrees, trying to watch college football; none of it worked to take my mind off things. My mind was filled with Addison’s face, her body, how she responded to me when we made love, and how drawn to her I was.

  I must have reached for my phone a hundred times. The last time I threw it hard against the stone fireplace, and it shattered into a million pieces. One problem solved. At least, it had been for the rest of the weekend.

  The more I thought about the situati
on the more furious I became. I was mad at Gloria, but I was hurt that Addison doubted me. I was thankful for the anger because it lessened the hurt. I just wanted to get this whole thing resolved and move on.

  Jefferson had asked me to meet him at his office and as much as I wanted to speak with him, I was on Sixth Avenue pulling up in front of the Simon & Schuster building. I needed to see my editor, first, so I could appraise my brother of my contractual obligations with my publisher.

  I got out of bed at 4 AM, and too anxious to eat, ran five miles on my treadmill, then dressed and showered early. I’d turned on the TV to the business network and waited miserably as the seconds slowly ticked past until I could leave. I’d called a car service because I didn’t feel like fighting to hail a cab on a busy Monday morning. I told the driver to put the fare and his tip on my bill, thanked him, and got out of the car.

  I was wearing a three-piece Dior suit in black, a crisp white shirt and black, grey and white tie in a small pattern. It was like armor. I didn’t want to appear rattled or perturbed in any way. I didn’t want to appear accusatory to Marcia, because it was probably all Gloria’s scheme, and I needed Marcia and Simon & Schuster to help me fix it. Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to go to court.

  Within minutes, I was waiting in the reception area. It was only a short time more before I was ushered into my editor’s big office. It was lined with black mahogany bookshelves stuffed with the company’s bestsellers. I knew Twenty-four of my books sat grouped together, front and center, but my focus was on the elegant older woman who was rising from her desk to greet me.

  “Jaxon! What a pleasant surprise! I wasn’t expecting you today. Do you want to discuss the edits I sent over?” Her face was beaming, and her arms were open as she approached me for a hug. Her perfectly coiffed silver hair was swept off her face into a chic chignon at the back of her head. Her dark plum suit was simple and paired with nude pumps. She was probably in her mid-sixties, but she was still attractive and held herself with the air of someone who had earned her success. “I absolutely love this book!”