Titles by Stephanie Julian
By Private Invitation
No Reservations
Over Exposed
Do Not Disturb
Strings Attached
Stephanie Julian
InterMix Books, New York
AN IMPRINT OF PENGUIN RANDOM HOUSE LLC
375 HUDSON STREET, NEW YORK, NEW YORK 10014
STRINGS ATTACHED
An InterMix Book / published by arrangement with the author
Copyright © 2015 by Stephanie Julian.
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eBook ISBN: 978-0-698-19469-4
PUBLISHING HISTORY
InterMix eBook edition / November 2015
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Penguin Random House is committed to publishing works of quality and integrity. In that spirit, we are proud to offer this book to our readers; however, the story, the experiences, and the words are the author’s alone.
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Contents
Titles by Stephanie Julian
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
About the Author
Chapter One
“I’m going to kill that man.”
Trudeau Morrison took a deep breath, trying to find her center. Which was more difficult than normal because it was flying all over the place.
All because of him.
“Seriously, I just want to put my hands around his neck and—”
“Uh, Truly, honey, maybe you want to keep your murderous intent to yourself. I don’t want to have to testify against you in court someday.”
Her eyes narrowing, she turned on her boss with a look that made his eyes widen. Greg Hicks was not a man who frightened easily, but he knew he was taking his life into his own hands when Tru started to sound like the possessed kid in The Exorcist.
“You.” She pointed her right index finger in his direction, freezing his feet to the floor of his film headquarters as effectively as any superhero’s superpower.
She didn’t care that he held her livelihood in his hands. That he was one of the richest and most powerful men in the film industry. That he could snap his fingers and kill her career.
She didn’t even care that he was the best boss in the whole wide world.
She would never forgive him for screwing her six ways to Sunday and up the other side by saddling her with Baz. Some days, the damn man only needed to look at her sideways and she’d want to string him up by his feet. Preferably over a pit of fire ants.
Saying they rubbed each other the wrong way was an understatement of epic proportions. No, Baz didn’t just rub her, he worked at her like a bristle brush on a tough knot.
Greg’s eyes widened even further, and he actually took a step back.
Maybe he did have a few brain cells left.
“This. This is all your fault.”
Greg raised his hands in surrender. “Uh . . .”
Her finger began to jab in his direction again. Was she doing that consciously? “And you will fix it. You will get that man out of my sight and out of the goddamn city. I don’t care where you put him, just get him away from me, because the next time I see him, I’m going to—”
“Blah, blah . . . cut me off at the knees . . . Blah, blah . . . make me regret I was ever born . . . Blah, blah . . .”
Tru caught sight of Greg’s eyes rolling just before she turned on the devil himself. The man who made her want to stomp her feet like a six-year-old and throw a tantrum worthy of any trust-fund princess denied her favorite new Ferrari.
The man she wanted to roast in the fiery pit of hell.
“You. Shut. Your. Mouth.”
Sebastian Valenti’s mouth closed, but she was pretty sure it wouldn’t stay that way for long. The man had absolutely no self-control. Whatever popped into his head came out of his mouth and usually made her want to strangle him. It was one of the things that drove her batshit insane. But only one.
“You do not get to say another word right now because if you do, I will walk out that door.” She used her free hand to point at the front door, keeping her other hand pointed at Sebastian as if it had the power to hold him in place. “And if I do, I don’t know when I’d return and neither of you can afford that.”
Because it was the God’s honest truth, neither man said a word.
She took a deep breath, her center slowly stopping its crazy whirl as she drew air in through her nose and released it through her mouth.
With her gaze glued to Sebastian’s, she saw his brain working at breakneck speed. He wanted to say something. She could see it formulating in that mutant, brilliant brain of his. She actually saw his lips move infinitesimally, as if words were forming on his tongue and trying to get past his lips, but some last stronghold of sanity kept them contained.
“I am going to take a walk. I may be gone five minutes. I may be gone an hour. If I don’t return by tomorrow morning, you very well might be on your own, and then God help you both.”
With that, Tru turned on her heel and stalked down the hall.
The front door was in sight. She had her hands on the knob when she heard two little words.
“Drama queen.”
Every cell of her blood began to boil. Her teeth ground together with enough force to make her jaw hurt. And her hands gripped the doorknob so tightly, she thought it might turn to dust in her hand.
She was surprised to actually hear Greg mutter, “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” through the rush of blood in her ears.
It literally took every ounce of will power she possessed to open the door and take that first step through it. All she wanted to do was turn around and tell him . . .
What? What the hell could she say that she hadn’t already?