24 Inches (Size Matters 2)

I’m a bit surprised. Call it momentary shock. I didn’t see this coming. Anders is usually strong and silent.

But this time, he’s already bounding on the stage towards Grady.

“One last goodbye before the cops take your ass to jail!” he shouts and swings his arm back. He makes a fist and lets a powerful haymaker land on Grady’s face. Grady falls back and I wince as I hear a loud crunch.

“You’ll pay for this!” Grady shouts, wobbling and trying vainly to get up on his feet. “All of you!”

But it’s too late.

The cops have reached him already cuffing him and reading him his right. He’s sputtering and salivating - not sure what’s going on. He’s upset - that’s for sure.

Honestly, getting arrested may have saved his life.

But he brought this on himself. He shouldn’t be surprised. It all started the day he crossed me.

The crowd is looking on in stunned silence.

“Well, now that that’s sorted out, let me be the first to welcome Lana Hartley as the newest published author from Naughty Angel Publishing,” I say and the crowd gasps. I see Lana’s face light up.

“That’s right, babe,” I say with a smile. I always love this part. “From this day onwards, you’re known as Lana Angel for anything associated with the company.”

People are clapping her on the back and congratulating her. Logan is beaming. Anders is smiling. Lana has tears in her eyes.

“And yes, babe, we’ll bring dark romance into Naughty,” I say, as the crowd oohs and ahs. “It’s about time we did that. And you can head it up.”

I clear my throat and project my voice again. Anders hands me a microphone.

“As the first publication of dark romance under Naughty Angel Publishing, I’d like to announce the impending release of The Virgin Market,” I say. More spontaneous applause. More people crowding around Lana.

Her life is about to change now.

“But we need an author name or pen name,” I tell her, speaking over the murmurs of the crowd. “Have you tho

ught of what that could be?”

Lana takes a moment to bring herself back from Cloud 9.

She looks at me and with a straight face full of decisiveness she says to me, “Dark Angel.”

There’s a pause as Lana considers her next words.

“I want to write with you,” she says. “I want to co-write with you as…Dark Angel.”

I smile.

What a sexy name, no?

33

Lana

Oh, man, I have no idea who thought of placing these luxurious lounges in convention centers, but they’re the best things right after sliced bread. And you can probably guess why, can’t you?

That’s right, the moment Abby finished burying Grady, I dragged both Logan and Anders up to the lounge reserved for the higher-ups at Naughty Angel Publishing. I’m not exactly a higher-up (at least not yet), but I think I deserve to use this lounge right now. And I don’t think many people would disagree with me on that.

“Grab the glasses, it’s time to fucking party!” Logan shouts, grabbing a bottle of champagne from the table and placing his thumb under the cork. Flicking it up, he makes the cork fly up into the ceiling and ricochet down to his feet; champagne flows out of the bottle in a rush, and I run toward the table and grab two glasses, placing them under the river of alcohol and filling them up to the brim.

I hand Anders one of the glasses and take the other one for me; as for Logan, he doesn’t even bother with picking up the glass. He just grabs the bottle by its neck and throws his head back, chugging champagne heartily and then wiping his lips with the back of his hand. He’s really into this celebration, and really, can you blame him? Moments ago everyone thought he was a bastard, and he managed to redeem himself in just a few seconds.