24 Inches (Size Matters 2) - Page 44

Right now, I gotta keep my mind off Lana and Anders. Whatever it takes.

So much fucking depends on it.

No matter how hard it is.

28

Lana

Ah, there’s nothing better than to wake up and feel happy and healthy.

And that’s why today I decided to roll out of bed and attend a yoga class. I drank a smoothie, packed my gym clothes, and went on my way with a skip to my step. I mean, I had every right to be happy! I have two handsome men by my side, and the chances of having The Virgin Market published are looking better and better.

Of course, things change. Fast.

I was leaving my yoga studio when I took my cellphone out of my pocket. The moment I saw ten missed calls from Anders on my screen, I knew in my core that something was wrong. I tried to call him back, but he didn’t pick up; then I unlocked my phone and realized that he had left me a text message as well.

Lana, something’s wrong. Logan fucked you over, the text read, and my heart sunk like a rock. Instead of walking home like I originally planned, I just called a cab and hopped inside.

Five minutes have passed since I read that message, and right now, I’m unlocking the door to my apartment. Stepping inside, I throw my gym bag and yoga mat onto the couch and try to call Anders again, pacing around my living room like a woman gone mad.

“God,” I mutter, frustrated as I hear the endless tone of the unanswered call against my ear. Sighing, I scroll down my contact list and stop my thumb over Logan’s name. I’m about to call him when I notice that I have a Facebook notification. I press down on the red icon, and the app launches quickly.

And then my heart stops.

The first post on my feed is a live stream from Bad Boy Publishing, and in the screenshot I can see their CEO holding a manuscript in his hand and smiling at the camera. I don’t even have to press play to know what's happened; I just

put the pieces together inside my head.

Suddenly feeling my legs growing weak, I make my way toward the couch and sink down on it, still staring at the screen. I start dragging my thumb over the screen, the room spinning around me as I realize the kind of posts flooding my newsfeed. Not an hour has passed since the Bad Boy Publishing live stream hit the Internet, but a lot of news publication have already picked up the story.

My eyes devour headline after headline and, for a short moment in time, I almost believe that I’m having a nightmare.

Bad Boy Publishing rocks the romance industry, one publication reads.

Bad Boy Publishing steals rising star from Naughty Angel, says another one.

Grady scores win over Abby.

Lana Hartley - the new face of Bad Boy Publishing?

And it goes on and on.

But you want to know the worst headline? The one that made tears start to sting my eyes? Logan Sanders will be the face of The Virgin Market, a promising novel from Bad Boy Publishing.

I stare at the screen for God knows how long, completely losing all notion of time. My hand starts to tremble as a sob makes my chest convulse violently and I drop the cellphone onto the floor. I bury my face into my hands and let the tears stream down my face, heavy sorrow gripping my heart.

No, no, no. This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.

I trusted him!

I… I loved him!

How could Logan do something like this? I allowed him to legally represent me because I trusted him, because I needed his help … and he used my trust to cut a deal with Grady, Abby Cleveland’s sworn enemy.

Another sob takes over my chest and I let the tears flow freely and out-of-control. I’m so lost right now that I can barely hear the sound of someone knocking at my door. Only when whoever’s there starts pounding his fist against the door do I hear it.

Wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I find the strength to stand up and amble all the way to the door. I press one eye against the peephole and see Anders standing on the other side.

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