Chapter 1

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"Aubrey! Come in here for a sec." I stopped in front of my editor, Meg Mason's glass door and took the strawberry lace I was chewing, out of my mouth. Through the glass, I could see she was with a tall guy, his back to me.

"Hey Meg, you want to congratulate me? That was fast, I only just found out myself." I said, lingering in the doorway. I assumed she just wanted to give me a quick pat on the back, since she was obviously in the middle of a meeting.

The tall guy turned around, his arms crossed, and stared at me.

"More like hoping." Meg said. I raised my eyebrow in confusion. 

"You finished Windows then? Good, congrats" She paused and I frowned. Never in my entire career have I seen Meg so flustered.

"Meg?-"

"Can you do me a big favour?"

"Uhhh..." I really wanted to say it depends on the favour but she looked so desperate and I didn't want to disappoint. Before I could make up my mind, she introduced me to the tall guy.

"This is Aiden Lars, the child actor turned singer-songwriter? You know the one?" I looked the guy up and down. The name was familiar but the face wasn't. He had dark hair, dark eyes and cheekbones to die for.

"Were you the one in Laser Lights?" I asked. I didn't watch much tv as a child but Laser Lights was as big as Harry Potter back then, everyone had seen it.

"Yeah." He mumbled. Not much of a talker this one. Meg jumped in before the silence got awkward.

"Aiden has a contract with us. He wants to write an autobiography."

"Okay..." I said, still confused as to why- wait. Wait.

"No." I half shouted. "No."

"Aubrey, I know this isn't your thing but... there's no one else!" Meg really did look desperate. Her knuckles were white from gripping the table so hard.

"My writing is a lone process. You know I can't work with other people."

"You wouldn't be writing with him. Just editing his work." Meg starting intertwining her fingers. She was hiding something. The lightbulb went off in my head.

"He can't even fucking write can he? You're telling me I have to write a book for someone else?!" I shook my head, incredulous. I looked to Aiden. He just seemed bored, not caring that he had absolutely no dignity in having someone else write his autobiography. Dick.

"Aubrey, please. This would bring in so much publicity and assets and money, you know, the thing that gives you that lovely sofa in your office." She pleaded.

I scoffed.

"Meg, please. We work at Ladybird, one of the biggest publishing companies in the UK. We don't need the money."

"We always need the money."

"But it's not urgent. Find someone else."

"He broke down my most patient and tolerant writers. Every autobiographical writer here refuses to work with him." I looked to Aiden and made a face. Wow.

"And that's supposed to convince me... how?"

She sighed and started tapping her fingers on the table. She was about to tell me the truth.

"Someone in marketing has a connection to his PR team and that someone might also be related to my boss."

"Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." I hate politics. Fine. I love Meg, and if something happens to her for not doing this, consequences would fall on me. I'm being selfish, really.

"On one condition. You call it 'Aiden Lars, an autobiography, written into coherent sentences by Aubrey Day'" I laughed ignoring Aiden's fuck no.

"Comedy gold I tell you" I said, pointing a finger at myself. "You wouldn't even need to do any press, people would see it in the shop and buy it immediately."

I started chewing on my strawberry lace again.

"I'm not working with her." Aiden said, facing Meg. I slowed down on the strawberry lace when I saw Meg's face in response. You could practically see the smoke coming out of her ears. Menacing Meg is coming out to play. She slammed a manuscript onto the desk and stood up, two palms on the table and an intimidating stance.

"That is it. You have ran out all of my best and nicest writers. There is no one left. If you don't work with Aubrey, you're out. No deal. And I'll make sure you don't get one from anyone else. Not even in Africa." She stared at him until he gave a timid nod.

Meg gave a nod of satisfaction and sat down.

"Exchange numbers, work out your schedules, write the fucking book. Don't update me until you're done."  


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