A Reclusive Heart (Hollywood Hearts 2)

“I need to talk to her about a few things,” Rick stubbornly pointed out.

“We can talk about them in my office,” Nick argued just as his little recluse started to struggle for freedom in his arms.

“Um, guys? I can walk to my own office,” she said, drawing his attention. He looked down at her tear streaked face and noted the deep blush burning her cheeks.

Of course she was embarrassed, he realized feeling like an idiot.

His little recluse embarrassed too damn easily. He also knew how hard she tried to blend in and go unnoticed and being carried in the office by him wasn’t going to help. With a great deal of reluctance he set her down on her feet.

“Better?” he asked, pushing her lose hair back behind her shoulders.

“Much better,” she mumbled, hugging her bag tightly to her chest.

He watched as she threw Rick a nervous look. “Is there a morning meeting?”

“No, not this morning,” Rick said, giving her a reassuring smile.

“Alright then,” she said, straightening up as the elevator came to a stop.

“Then if either of you gentlemen need me I’ll be in my office,” she said, shifting anxiously as she let out a slow breath.

She was nervous and there was nothing he could do for her. He hated this.

He hated having to pretend that he didn’t care to protect both of their reputations, but if he still wanted to have a job by the end of the day then he had to. He was her editor and technically her boss and sleeping with her was more than enough to get his ass canned.

If he lost his job for f**king one of the clients his reputation wouldn’t be worth shit and he’d never work in this field again. He loved his job and what he did.

He sure as hell didn’t want to start over again, but more importantly, he didn’t want to leave his little recluse to fend for herself. She needed him and as long as he was around he was going to protect her.

When she stepped off the elevator only to look around nervously he had to stop himself from smiling since he knew that she wouldn’t appreciate that one bit.

He stepped off the elevator to join her and waited a moment by her side for her to admit that she was lost, but of course she was too damn stubborn to admit that so he gave a strand of her beautiful strawberry blond hair a gentle tug to get her attention.

“Your office is down that hall,” he said, gesturing to his right.

“I knew that,” she said with a stubborn nod as she took off in that direction, hugging her bag tightly as she went. He sighed heavily as he watched her occasionally jump out of the way of someone who wasn’t watching where they were going and he knew without seeing her face that she apologized each and every time.

It seemed they still had a few things to work on, he thought as he moved to follow her only to come up short when Rick stepped in front of him.

“We need to talk,” the man said, not looking pleased at all.

Chapter 22

If she didn’t get a fix soon she was pretty sure she was going to die, Jamie thought as she shifted restlessly in her too firm leather chair as she tried uselessly to focus on the word document in front of her. She was supposed to be writing. Well, she assumed that’s what she was supposed to do since no one had told her differently. She was already caught up editing other writer’s manuscripts so that really left her with nothing to do but write.

She checked her inbox, hoping that she’d find the email telling her that it was her to turn to write the next chapter, but so far nothing. This was the first time she’d ever collaborated with someone on a book and she had to admit that it was pretty fun. The story was enjoyable and she was really enjoying the twists and turns she had to keep up with. It was a challenge, one she loved and hoped to do again.

After another minute she realized that staring at her inbox wasn’t exactly going to help so she turned her attention back to the chapter that she was working on, but her mind kept drifting to what happened outside not even an hour ago. As hard as she tried she couldn’t stop thinking about the things they’d said to her. Nick had warned her about the paparazzi and how cruel they could be to get what they wanted but it hadn’t prepared her at all.

She really needed some chocolate and a Coke, but so far she hadn’t been able to track any down. When she asked around her questions were met with stares of horror and comments about carbs and diets. How could any woman function without chocolate? she wondered again. It really was unnatural.

After a quick search of the vending machines on the floor and the break room she discovered much to her horror that everyone had been telling the truth. There wasn’t one single morsel of chocolate to be had. For all of ten seconds she considered sneaking out of the building and hitting the convenient store she spotted down the street, but she really didn’t want to deal with reporters again.

A small knock at her door had her sitting up and nearly sighing with relief.

Nick said he was going to find some chocolate for her and since he knew the lay of the land a heck of a lot better than her she figured that he’d have better luck finding some chocolate and hopefully that was him bringing her the much needed sustenance.

“Come in,” she said, trying not to look too eager, for the chocolate or the man she wasn’t sure which one she needed more.

When a pretty, tall brunette stepped into her office carrying a cardboard box she did her best to hide her disappointment. The woman placed the box on the corner of Jamie’s desk and with a smile explained, “This is all the mail we picked up from your apartment building while you were on tour.”

“It’s all my mail?” she said, nearly pouting. Not only was there a lot of mail to sort through, but she had been kind of hoping that there was also some chocolate in there.

“Yes, Miss. Harris. Is there anything else I can do for you?” the woman asked with a polite smile.

“No, no thank you,” she mumbled, not at all looking forward to the task of sorting through all of it. Thankfully she’d set up her checking account to automatically pay all of her bills so she didn’t have to worry about those. As the woman quietly left she pulled the box closer to her, dreading every single minute of this chore. She hated sorting through junk mail.

Not even thirty seconds into the dreaded chore she came across a letter.

There was no address, but at least it wasn’t junk mail. She opened the letter and felt the air rush out of her lungs as her eyes widened. With a shaky hand she put the letter aside and practically dove through the rest of the mail, looking for any more letters. She found thirty-five letters in total, each one more gruesome and detailed than the last.