Brew Ha Ha Box Set: Books 1-4

by Bria Quinlan

  Connor shoved his phone back in his pocket and turned back. “Amy is creating people for you. We’ll put out a joint statement and they’ll just state it as if our teams wrote it together.”

  This was all very nice and thoughtful and kind, but in the land of Hailandia, completely unnecessary. I needed to slow this roll before it got out of hand. “I don’t think I really need people.”

  “Well, you might.” Connor sipped at his coffee, his focus going wide for a moment. “I’m going to talk to Dex about this. I don’t want you to be tsunamied when we break up and have no one to handle the media for you.”

  Oh, I hadn’t thought about that. I just figured I’d be old news and they’d leave me alone to chase him and his next model.

  He glanced at the paper again. “Plus, I’m going out of town for that first interview, and the timing is pretty bad. I don’t want you to be stuck here with no resources. Especially since this guy knows where you live.”

  A strange man knew where I lived and Connor was going away.

  I could feel my heart picking up speed and wondered just how fast it had to go before heart attack land.

  “Hey.” Connor took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Don’t look like that. It’s going to be fine. This is what Amy does. She’ll make sure you’re protected and everything goes smoothly.”

  “Thanks. I’m glad you called her.” I wasn’t in a place to be prideful about making my own way.

  “No problem. I can’t believe Dex and Catherine didn’t think of this already. Or they just figured they’d handle it as it came.” He pulled the newspaper out and started to unfold it. “Ready?”

  “Sure. How bad could it be?”

  He held the paper up so I could see the photo. They’d been incredibly kind, picking what was one of the first shots. I looked a bit dazed, probably from the flash. Connor had all but picked me up and looked like if you got in his way he’d cut you down. The caption read, Nighthawk Gets Protective.

  Connor cleared his throat and read the headline with announcer guy voice, before running through the few short paragraphs. “The Nighthawk and the Raven. I don’t get it…Wait, that’s your heroine, right? Raven?” He glanced my way for confirmation before diving back in. “Connor Ryan has been seen out and about with a petite writer for the last few weeks doing the most ordinary things. No cat fights or gossip mags for this girl. Hailey Tate is what we in the industry call a class act. A good girl persona of writing for children and donating her time, Ms. Tate is taking a walk on the wild side with Ryan. But will she tame the bad boy or will he sully this angel’s halo?”

  Connor folded the paper back up and frowned at me as if it were my fault we’d been written up.

  “What?”

  He was glaring at the far wall and I wasn’t sure he was going to answer me at first.

  “They make you sound too good for me.”

  I tried not to laugh, but it was kind of sweet to have him notice.

  “No. They just said I wasn’t a cat-fighting floozy.”

  And that I’m too good for him.

  “Yeah.” He reached for his coffee, obviously still put out. “Whatever.”

  Nothing like a grown man pouting.

  25

  “Hello?” I glanced at the clock. Who in their right mind would be calling at 2:53 in the morning?

  “Hey. Did I wake you up?”

  “Connor?”

  “Yeah.”

  Well, that answered that question. Someone not in his right mind.

  “Is something wrong?” I shifted, trying to wake up, worried something had happened, that he was stuck somewhere.

  He was traveling and anything could have happened. Would his new, mysterious people be able to take care of things in other towns?

  “No. You know I'm just...”

  “You're just what?”

  “I'm just...”

  Seriously, he did not wake me up to say the same half-sentence over and over?

  “Connor, it's the middle of the night.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Well.” I heard a gush of breath as if he was pushing all the air out of his lungs at once. His words were soft and had the slight slur of sleep like he was exhausted but couldn't rest. “Sorry. I couldn't sleep.”

  I squished my pillow up behind me and sat up, pulling the blankets with me.

  “How was the interview?”

  Connor laughed, a light, breathy sound like he was trying to swallow it instead of letting it out. “Different.”

  “That's all? Different?”

  “Well, I'm used to guys asking me about the models I go out with, but it's usually more of a guy thing. Like, once I got asked if Genevieve Alexander’s boobs were real.”

  “Oh.” Well, that would make for an interesting conversation. And… “Are they?”

  “Seriously, Hails?” He was laughing now, his voice less worn. “How would I know?”

  “Well, you went out with her.”

  “We went to a charity event as a set up. I told you. I don't sleep with all those girls.” He made a sharp pfft sound on the other end of the line. “What am I, some eighteen year old rookie?”

  He sounded insulted that people assumed he was sleeping with a different model every week. That was just a different level of guydom.

  “So what did they ask you this time? Oh, and, by the way. Just to clear it up in case it’s ever an interview question. My boobs? Totally real. Not worth a multimillion-dollar insurance policy impressive, but still, real.”

  “I kind of figured no one invested thousands in A-cups.”

  “Hey, mister. These are Bs. Definitely Bs.” I rolled to my side, staring at the dim light coming through my curtains. “Someone just measured me during that great Hailey-needs-a-new-look shopping spree.”

  I let him laugh at my expense, wondering what was wrong that had him calling me in the middle of the night. Wondering who this girl was in my skin flirting with him in the dark.

  “They asked me a lot of questions about us. Like how we met and how long had we secretly been dating and how serious we were and what it was like to date someone like you.”

  “Someone like me?” I wasn't sure I was going to like this one.

  “Yeah, you know.”

  “Um, no?”

  “You know.” He drew it out like I was being dense. “Someone who's famous for her brain.”

  I was famous for my brain. Huh.

  Of course, I wasn't really famous. Most writers weren't. It took a ridiculous number of books and movies or television shows sold to become famous. But still, it added to the warm fuzzy night-talk feeling I had.

  “What did you say?”

  “I told them we'd been dating a while, that we kept it quiet because you weren't comfortable being called one of my flavors of the week on every tabloid out there. And, that I didn't mind because I knew you weren't a flavor of the week and I could just wait you out. And that you were the funniest, smartest, nicest girl I knew. And that brainy girls were a different level of sexy.”

  Oh.

  Wow.

  Even if he was just saying those things, it was still really sweet. Exactly what I'd want him to say if he'd meant it.

  “Then the rest was just sports talk.” He cleared his throat, a move I was realizing he did when he was uncomfortable. “Nothing you want to hear about.”

  “Maybe I do.” I was thinking I could listen to his voice lull me back to sleep, let it wrap around me in the dark until even RBIs sounded sweet and sexy.

  He chuckled again. Maybe he did think I was funny.

  “Do you want to do something tomorrow when I get back?”

  “The tomorrow in a few hours or the real tomorrow after I sleep-recover from this?”

  “The real tomorrow. It looks like they booked me an extra day here for some reason. I’m not flying back till tomorrow morning. Why, you have a hot date tonight?”

  “Yup.”

  “What?” The sleepiness left his voice, quick, like he'd just come to
. “You do?”

  “Yup. Fifteen teenage girls. My pre-launch party is tonight. They get the book before it comes out on Tuesday. There'll be a few local bookstore owners and some bloggers there too. It's the final book in my series that hit the USA Today so we're doing it up big.”

  “Wow.” He actually sounded impressed. “Look at you Ms. Big Time Author.”

  “I know, right?” It never got old getting to hang out with teen readers.

  “So, you should be getting your beauty sleep right now.” He stopped and with the long pause it felt like he was going to say something else. But, instead he just said, “Sorry I woke you up.”

  “It's okay.”

  “Sleep well. I’m sure you’ll knock it out of the park tomorrow.”

  There was nothing like a good baseball analogy for a book signing.

  26

  I stood on the threshold, afraid of what I’d find. A death-dark flower dripping a dim glowing nectar called to me from across the room. No matter how I fought, I couldn't break free of its spell. The Professor had warned me not to come here. But after two years of fighting all those things that crept past good people’s houses each night, the things that killed and stole and haunted, how could I know the evil behind this door was more than anything I’d ever faced—anything I’d ever even heard of.

  'Raven!'

  As soon as I heard his voice, I knew. I knew who it was and I knew the right man had come for me.

  I closed the book with a snap to a chorus of no coming from the girls sitting on the floor around me. I rested the book on my lap and smiled.

  “I know. You've been waiting for a lot of books to find out who she picks. Michael or Priam. The bad news is, I'm not going to tell you. The good news is that Mary from the bookstore has a book for each of you before you leave.”

  As soon as I'd said the words good news they guessed what was coming.

  “You all just have to promise not to give the ending away since people are still waiting for it.”

  After everyone had raised her right hand and taken a solemn oath to never tell the ending of the book, the bookstore brought out cupcakes for everyone while I did a question and answer period.

  “But, if Priam has lived twelve lives, he's at the end of the zodiac, what happens to his next life?”

  “That's a great question...and maybe you'll find out when you read One Last Tomorrow.”

  “Excuse me.” A deep voice came from the back of the reading area. Connor. Leaning against the doorframe, his carry-on sitting at his feet. “But, what kind of girl is this Raven chick? Michael and Priam both sound like good guys. Is she just leading them on?”

  The gasps from the group around me would have put an end to that line of questioning from anyone else. But not Connor.

  “I mean, how long has this been going on?” Connor asked.

  “Mister,” a little voice piped up from the front row. “You don't understand. She loves them both.”

  “Yeah.” One of the chattier girls threw in. “She has so much in common with Michael, but she and Priam have lived other lives together. You can't just discount that.”

  “But Michael is always there for her.” Another girl added, making the battle lines very clear. “He never lets her down. He isn't all, Oh. I'm Mr. Mysterious. I can't be here for you all the time. You can't trust me.”

  “But he wants her to trust him. He just has other responsibilities.”

  “If he loved her, he'd be there for her like Michael. He'd always be there for her.”

  “See?” Connor jumped in before the Michael/Priam contingents came to blows. “If he really cared for her, he'd always be there for her.”

  He glanced up and smiled at me.

  It took a moment to break free from that gaze, but I held my hand up, knowing how teenagers could get when they were passionate about something. I wished I could bottle their passion, but right now I was too flabbergasted.

  “Well, girls. Mr. Ryan seems to be on Team Michael. I'm sure one or two of you might want to put that on your blog. Maybe he'll answer a few questions after the cupcakes. In the meantime, feel free to get your book from Mary and if anyone wants me to sign it, they're setting up a table in the corner.”

  They moved in a flash, rushing Mary as if she was going to run out of books. She had the bookstore staff handing out cupcakes with ravens on them and trading cards with Michael, Priam, and some of the villains over the last couple years.

  “So...” I grinned as Connor picked his way through discarded jackets and backpacks to where I sat. “Team Michael, huh?”

  “Team Hails.” He reached down and pulled me up from my cross-legged seat on the floor. “Wow. You're amazing at this. You had them eating out of your hands.”

  Before I knew it, he'd kissed me. Just a quick sweep of his lips across mine, but my knees almost gave out and dropped me back down.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, recovering as quickly as possible. “You weren't supposed to be back until tomorrow afternoon.”

  “I wasn't going to miss your big night. Why didn't you tell me about this? You just said we had a dinner for the launch with your friends.”

  “It's—”

  “Hailey, is this your boyfriend?” A small, suspicious voice interrupted from just behind Connor’s elbow. “The baseball player guy?”

  Wow. If the news had even trickled down to my readers, we were definitely in Couple City.

  “How'd you hear about that?” I asked.

  “My brother is a huge fan. He says you should date more actresses. Or another one of the girls on Big Brother. But I told him Hailey was wicked pretty and her books are my favorite.” She grinned up at Connor and darn it all if she didn't bat her little thirteen-year-old eyelashes. “Then, when he said no you weren't, I hit him with one of your hard covers.”

  And I hadn't believed the publisher when she said hard covers had more diversity.

  “That's very sweet of you, but maybe not so much with the hitting.”

  “Will you sign my book?”

  “Of course.”

  Connor kissed my cheek and stepped away. “I’ll let you go make dreams come true.”

  He worked his way back to his luggage, stopping for each girl interested and brave enough to challenge him and explain Raven and her love interests. I couldn’t help but watch him as he headed toward the closed café at the front of the store and disappeared behind a bookshelf, most likely sinking into one of the overstuffed chairs.

  I hadn't realized I'd missed him until he was here and gone again, the surprise of it all catching me off my stride and throwing me off my game.

  Wow. Even I was thinking in baseball analogies now.

  27

  Connor took the cab back to my place and got out…probably force of habit because he was so exhausted.

  Now, I was curled up in the corner of my couch, my feet stuck under Connor's leg, one of his arms wrapped around my calves the other holding the glass of the scotch.

  “Why have you never had me come over to your place?” It suddenly seemed important now that he'd invaded every corner of my life, I'd never gone anywhere into his that wasn't related to the deal. Maybe he was afraid it would be harder to get rid of me when this was over. “I mean, regardless of the paparazzi-partnering doorman, now that we’re tabloid fodder. Not to stay over, just to see it.”

  “Why would you want to go there?” I know he was tired from the insane trip back to go to my launch party, but it seemed like a pretty straightforward question.

  “I don't know. I mean, why wouldn't I? Is there a reason you haven't had me over?”

  “Yes.”

  Oh, dear.

  “It's big and spacious and cold. It's much nicer here. I have a nosy doorman. There’s an elevator that you have to be nice to people for like fifteen floors. I’ve barely decorated. And you would mock my TV.” He took another sip and rolled his head to look my way. “Your apartment has made me think about downsizing. As long as I have a gue
st room for my folks, that's all I need. It's not like I throw big parties or anything. I don't like to bring all that schmoozing home with me. So, you'd probably hate my place.”

  Yeah. I'm sure I'd totally hate the three-million-dollar penthouse overlooking the river that was featured on Million Dollar Views last year.

  Not that I Googled it or anything.

  “So, you like it better here?”

  That seemed too simple.

  “Yup. Remember? Cozy.” He tilted his head back again, his eyes half-shut.

  No matter how happy I was to see him, it was going to have to be bedtime before he passed out and dropped that glass.

  I slid my feet out from under him and stretched before getting up to go get his blanket.

  When I turned back, he was standing in my bedroom doorway.

  “Hails, I'm sleeping in that bed with you. I'm exhausted and jet lagged and I'm keeping my clothes on, but I am sleeping there.”

  He stood there, half challenging me, half waiting for me to say yes or no. He looked dead on his feet, partially because he raced back to celebrate with me. My friends and Catherine didn’t even go to my closed events anymore. They were having the launch dinner for me next week. And so, Connor had been the only adult there just to support me for no reason to do with money.