Faux Love & Real Rings: A BWWM Romance

Chapter 1

Jackie

I sigh, pausing before I open the door to Arthur Vince’s office. He’s my least favorite of my editors, which is unfortunate since he’s the one my publishers have been forcing me to work with on my latest book. 

When I push the door open, he’s already waiting for me, arms crossed as he stares at me. His eyes sweep down my body in the way they always do. I make my way toward him, already wishing I had left the door open behind me so someone could witness my interaction with this creepy white guy. 

“Arthur,” I say, taking a seat across from him.

“Jackie, it’s good to see you,” he says, leaning back in his brown leather chair with a smug look on his face.

Can’t say the same to you.

“So I’m assuming you wanted to meet about the revisions I sent you?” I ask. “I worked really hard on those last edits.”

“Yes, I’m sure you did. But you know, Jackie, if you want to be a big name one day, it’s going to take a lot more work than that.”

As if Arthur has any idea what hard work looks like. He only has this job because his father is a co-owner of the company. But as always, I bite my tongue and paste a smile on my face.

“I’m willing to put in as much work as I need to.”

He snaps his fingers and points at me. “That’s exactly what I want to hear.”

Arthur opens a drawer and pulls out a large stack of papers, slapping it down on the desk between us. I stare at it, the sound echoing in my brain. More notes.

“I have some thoughts,” he says.

Of course, you do.

I smile even wider. “I’m all ears.”

“I saw the way you incorporated my last notes, but I’m just not feeling it, you know? The main character, she just lacks… Oh, what’s the word? Charisma! We need her to be more charming. The readers need a reason to like her. Am I making sense?”

I stare at him, feeling my patience wear thinner and thinner. One of these days, I think I might just leap over that desk and tell him how I really feel. 

“Of course, Arthur. I think I know what you mean. Was that all?”

“Well, not exactly. I also just think we need a more exciting ending.”

“You already had me change the ending.”

After all, this is the fifth revision. 

“Yes, you’re right. And in my head, I saw that unfolding in a much different way. It’s my fault, really, for not being specific enough last time. Anyway, I’ve included my new thoughts in these notes. You’ll look them over?”

“Absolutely. No problem.” 

My voice comes out as sweet as cherries, not even an ounce of sarcasm detectable. I refuse to let him see how angry I am, knowing that that’s exactly what he wants from me. I know his past, his history with previous authors, and I won’t let him manipulate me into becoming another failure. I won’t give him what he wants. 

At least, not today. Not when I’ve still got so much fight left in me. 

“So, you’ll have it to me in a week?” he asks as I push myself up from my chair.

I pause, momentarily letting him see my shock before quickly covering it up with yet another fake smile. 

“A week! Arthur, that’s awfully soon, don’t you think? I’m usually given a lot more time than that.”

“Well, the publishers are getting antsy. You know how they are. They’re asking me when this book is going to be finished, and I keep having to give them a different date.”

Internally, I roll my eyes. What I really want to say is, whose fault is that? But I don’t.

“I understand. I’ll try to make that deadline.”

I snatch the manuscript, his notes attached, from his desk and whip around, strutting out of his office. My heels click loudly against the polished floor as I walk away. I listen to that sound, using it to keep my calm. To keep me from turning around and throwing this manuscript at his face.

I quickly grab my bag from my office and stuff the manuscript inside, not even wanting to look at it right now. I need to get out of here before I get myself dropped from my publishers. 

As I make my way out of the office, the secretary, Andrea, smiles at me.

“You okay, Jackie?”

I shoot her a half smile. “I will be once I get my hands on the bottle of wine that’s waiting for me at home.”

She laughs. “Me too, girl. Me too.”

***

I rest my head against the back of my tub, closing my eyes. My wine glass rests in my hand, dangling over the side of the tub. After the day I’ve had, I think I’m going to need at least four more glasses.

When I open my eyes, my gaze lands on the bubbles surrounding me. I stare at them, trying to let the stress of the day disappear along with them. 

It’s days like this that make me wonder whether being a writer is worth it. If I’ll even be able to make it out there. It’s a competitive field, one that requires a larger-than-normal amount of determination if you plan on making it anywhere. 

Arthur’s words ring in my ears.

I saw the way you incorporated my last notes, but I’m just not feeling it.

As if it was my fault. He wants me to think my work is insignificant. How the hell does he think I got to where I am? Pure luck? I worked my ass off to even get picked up by a publisher. 

The saddest part is that there’s nothing I can do about him. He will never get fired due to nepotism, and if I complain about him, I’ll most likely be punished for it.

A long sigh escapes me as I take another sip of my wine, the sound of sirens outside my window interrupting what should be a relaxing bath. I try to ignore the sound, wanting nothing more than to enjoy what will likely be the only peaceful moment I have for a while, thanks to Arthur. But the sound only gets louder and louder.

My brow furrows as the sirens continue screeching until they sound like they’re right outside my building. I make the split-second decision to get out of the bath, grabbing the nearest towel and wrapping it around myself. 

Damp curls cling to my neck as I pad my way across my apartment to the small balcony attached to my kitchen. I slide open the glass door, the wind immediately hitting my face and making me shiver. 

Squinting against the harsh wind, I watch as a fire truck, two ambulances, and three cop cars pull into my apartment complex and head directly for my building. 

“What the hell?” I mutter as I slip back inside.

As I throw on the first set of clothes I can find, I hear shouting coming from the hallway outside of my apartment, making me move even faster. The fire alarms aren’t going off, so I can rule that out, but clearly, something major is going on. 

I run to my door and whip it open, peeking out into the hall. Paramedics are already rushing around, and I spot a stretcher being wheeled into the elevator down the hall. 

After slipping on the nearest pair of shoes, I step out, peering around. 

“Jackie! Oh, Jackie! I’m so glad you’re home.”

I turn to see Destiny, one of my neighbors, coming toward me with tears in her eyes. My mind immediately shifts to her son.

“What’s going on? Is it Adrian?” I ask her, panic evident in my voice.

“No, no, it’s not me.”

“Then who?”

Tears streak down her face. “Minerva… she… they took her away.”

My heart feels like it’s in my throat. “Marionette?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I don’t know. They took her with them, I think.”

My hands are trembling. I do the only thing I can think of and grab my purse that’s hanging by my door before I rush down the hall.

I run outside to my car, all thoughts of Arthur and his notes completely gone. The drive to the hospital is a blur. I park in the ER lot and run to the entrance, focused only on one thing. Finding Marionette. 

“Ma’am, can I help you?” a nurse asks as I look around.

“I… I’m looking for someone. Where would a child be taken if they were brought here in an ambulance?”

“The pediatric wing. It’s down the hall and to your left. Just give the receptionist there the name of the child, and she should be able to help you.”

I mumble my thanks and take off in that direction. Once in the pediatric wing, I find the nearest waiting room, making a beeline for the receptionist's desk. Before I can get there, I spot her. 

“Oh my God,” I gasp, running towards the small girl that’s on the ground coloring.

Her face lights up when she sees me. “Jackie!”

She runs towards me, throwing her arms around my legs. The relief flooding through me is overwhelming, but it’s short-lived as I remember her mother.

I hold back any tears that are fighting to come out and completely mask my face, not wanting her to see my panic. 

A nurse approaches me as I crouch down to talk to Marionette. I take her in my arms and stand up, turning to the nurse as I hold her.

“Are you family?” she asks.

“I watch Marionette for her mother whenever she’s at work,” I explain. “I live down the hall from them. Can you tell me what happened?”
The nurse glances at Marionette, whose face is buried in my neck. She clears her throat, but her voice comes out softer than before.

“Her mother had heart problems. She suffered from a heart attack while making dinner. Her daughter grabbed her phone and called 911.”

“Is she…”

The nurse nods, and Marionette lets out her first sob, hiccupping at the same time. I sink into the nearest seat, holding onto Marion as she cries softly against my neck.

All I can do is stare at the floor in front of me, a million thoughts swirling in my mind all at once.