Unleash Me, Vol. 1 (Unleash Me, Annihilate Me Series) by Christina Ross

’ s right. ”
    “ Your
name? ”
    “ Lisa
Ward. ”
    “ Oh, ” she
said.   “ Oh, yes.   The self-published writer. ”
    She said it as if it was some sort of
disease.
    “ That
would be me. ”
    Her gaze went to the diamonds at my
throat, then to Jennifer ’ s
Birkin, and finally to my suit.   “ Really? ” she
said.   “ Self-published.   It ’ s still all so new to us here.   What a brave new world we live in.   Let me ring Mr. Boss and see if he ’ s available to see
you. ”
    “ I
have an appointment to meet with him. ”
    “ As
I said, I ’ ll
see if he ’ s
available to see you.   He might be
busy and have to cancel your appointment.   It happens. ”   She pointed to the wall opposite
her.   “ You can stand over there. ”
    Well, this is pleasant.
    “ Mr.
Boss?   Lisa Ward to see you.   Yes?   No, she ’ s standing here.   Actually, she ’ s
standing against a wall.   I ’ ll tell her.   Thank you. ”
    She looked up at me, and this time I
noticed the canary-diamond ring on my right hand catching her eye.   She stared at it for a moment before she
looked up and addressed me.   “ Mr. Boss will collect
you himself.   Just wait there. ”
    I didn ’ t have to wait long.   To my left, I heard my name called out in a bass voice that seemed to
reverberate throughout the entire space.
    “ Lisa, ” he
said.
    I turned and saw Marco Boss — all
six-foot-six of him — round
a corner and move in my direction.   He was dressed far more casually than me — dark jeans, a white button-down
shirt, and a blue blazer that was tailored to fit his enormous chest and slim
waist.  
    As he strode toward me, I tried to
read his face, but it was, in fact, unreadable.   There wasn ’ t even a hint of a smile on his lips, or a trace of
expression showing how much I ’ d
apparently disappointed him yesterday when he had his little tantrum about how
Bernie and Blackwell had styled me for the photo shoot.
    “ It ’ s good to see you, ” he
said when he took my hand and shook it.
    “ Is
it? ”
    “ It
is. ”
    “ I
was thinking otherwise. ”
    He ignored my comment.   “ Welcome to Wenn Publishing.   I ’ m assuming you ’ ve met Beatrice? ”
    “ Sorry? ”
    “ Beatrice. ”
    “ I
don ’ t
know who that is. ”
    “ I ’ m Beatrice, ” the
woman behind the desk said.
    She had been so rude to me a moment
ago, I decided to give it back to her.   I looked up at Marco.   “ I introduced myself to
her, but she didn ’ t
introduce herself to me.   Instead,
she told me that you might not have time for me and that I should stand against
that wall while she found out if you did.   So, no.   I haven ’ t met Beatrice.   Not officially, anyway. ”
    “ Mr.
Boss is so busy, ” she
said.
    “ Too
busy for a self-published writer? ”
    “ I
never said that. ”
    “ But
you inferred it. ”
    “ I
did nothing of the sort. ”
    “ I
think we both know that ’ s
not true.   You did, after all, ask
me to stand against that wall as if I was in third grade. ”
    Before anything else could be said
between us, Marco put his hand on my shoulder.   “ Come, ” he
said.   “ Bea can be a
challenge, can ’ t
you, Bea? ”
    “ It ’ s not as if I know who
she is. ”
    “ And
that allows you to be rude? ” I
asked.
    “ I
was not rude to you. ”
    “ Sorry,
but I disagree.   If I hadn ’ t just signed a
five-million-dollar contract with Wenn, I would have turned around and left. ”
    Her eyes widened.   “ Five million … ? ”
    “ Let ’ s go to my office and
discuss your book, ” Marco
said.   “ There ’ s a lot to talk
about.   We only have a few weeks to
get it in shape before we go to press.   I have a few ideas. ”   He looked at Beatrice.   “ The next time Ms. Ward comes for an appointment with me, I
presume you ’ ll
treat her like any of my other authors? ”
    The woman bristled.   “ I believe I just did. ”
    I looked up at Marco.   “ If