Read Online Running from Love: A Story for Runners and Lovers by Rozsa Gaston - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rozsa Gaston
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ahead and fallen in love anyway.
“Yes, the Boathouse Cafe. My treat. If it’s warm, we’ll sit outdoors.”
She got off abruptly, before she slipped and said his name again.
J UDE WOKE TO the sound of his phone ringing. It had been two days since he’d walked out of the meeting with his boss. Bills were pouring in, and the Griswolds had called to say that they needed the pool house for holiday guests between Thanksgiving and Christmas.
There were disadvantages to living on the cheap on the estate of mega-wealthy owners. His landlords changed their plans frequently, and Jude’s position as their tenant was of small concern to them. His rent was less than one quarter of their monthly utility bill. He knew, because the last time he had gone up to the big house to drop off his rent, he’d glanced at the utility bill lying open on the kitchen counter.
As he stared at his on-line bank account, trying to figure out whether to make his car or credit card payment, all he could think about was what an asshole he’d been dealing with Jim, and how he’d probably screwed up the best job he’d ever had. Working as a ghostwriter for an influential financial markets expert with his own TV show had sure beat being a corporate drone, editing equity reports at a financial firm.
The celebrity’s agent had convinced the publishing house that his client’s book franchise would sell like hotcakes. The guy couldn’t put two written words together to save his life, so Jude and a team of other ghostwriters had been hired. Jude’s first project had been called How to Get Rich. The second book had been How to Stay Rich. Then he’d worked on How to Regain Your Wealth which hadn’t done as well. He suspected it was because the title hadn’t been as catchy.
But marrying for money? It was such a scummy idea that the only way he’d consider it was if he could write it for more money in his pocket. Then, it wouldn’t seem so bad. Reaching for the receiver on his night table, he picked up just before voicemail kicked in.
“Hello.”
“Jude?”
“Yeah.” He ran a hand through hair long enough to let the world know it was wavy. Time to get a haircut.
“It’s Jim. I spoke to Dan.” Had his boss gone to bat for him?
“And—?”
“He’ll cut you a separate deal. You get 50 percent of his royalties on Marry Money alone. No other titles. And no word on this to the publishing house. This is between you and him privately.”
“How do I know that he won’t cheat me?” Jude was elated at the offer. But he wanted to be sure it was airtight before accepting.
“Dan’s not like that.”
“Right. He’s a regular Girl Scout.” Dan had gotten his start as a wealth expert using proceeds he’d gained from suing his former employers. They’d settled out of court in what some had whispered was an enormous settlement, due mostly to Dan’s lawyer’s blackmail expertise.
“Okay. I’ll have his agent send you copies of the bi-yearly royalty statements from the publishing house. Will that do?”
“I still need it in writing. Along with Dan’s agreement.”
“You’ll get it.”
“I want 50 percent of everything. Foreign rights, too.”
“The deal is you get 50 percent of domestic after the agent’s fee is taken out. But I’ll ask Dan about foreign rights.”
“Don’t ask. Tell.”
“What’s gotten into you? You must be getting laid these days.”
“Mum’s the word.”
“I need a proposal and an outline from you for MM by the end of this week.”
“Marilyn Monroe?” He wasn’t partial to blondes, but if Marilyn had been around, he might have made an exception.
“Marry Money. Your new project.”
“I need a signed contract with Dan’s name on it before I deliver.”
“Get your ass in here Friday afternoon and you’ll get it.”
“Then, you’ll take me out for a beer?”
“Your balls have gotten bigger than your head. You’re lucky no one else was around to work on this. Watch yourself, man.
“Yes, the Boathouse Cafe. My treat. If it’s warm, we’ll sit outdoors.”
She got off abruptly, before she slipped and said his name again.
J UDE WOKE TO the sound of his phone ringing. It had been two days since he’d walked out of the meeting with his boss. Bills were pouring in, and the Griswolds had called to say that they needed the pool house for holiday guests between Thanksgiving and Christmas.
There were disadvantages to living on the cheap on the estate of mega-wealthy owners. His landlords changed their plans frequently, and Jude’s position as their tenant was of small concern to them. His rent was less than one quarter of their monthly utility bill. He knew, because the last time he had gone up to the big house to drop off his rent, he’d glanced at the utility bill lying open on the kitchen counter.
As he stared at his on-line bank account, trying to figure out whether to make his car or credit card payment, all he could think about was what an asshole he’d been dealing with Jim, and how he’d probably screwed up the best job he’d ever had. Working as a ghostwriter for an influential financial markets expert with his own TV show had sure beat being a corporate drone, editing equity reports at a financial firm.
The celebrity’s agent had convinced the publishing house that his client’s book franchise would sell like hotcakes. The guy couldn’t put two written words together to save his life, so Jude and a team of other ghostwriters had been hired. Jude’s first project had been called How to Get Rich. The second book had been How to Stay Rich. Then he’d worked on How to Regain Your Wealth which hadn’t done as well. He suspected it was because the title hadn’t been as catchy.
But marrying for money? It was such a scummy idea that the only way he’d consider it was if he could write it for more money in his pocket. Then, it wouldn’t seem so bad. Reaching for the receiver on his night table, he picked up just before voicemail kicked in.
“Hello.”
“Jude?”
“Yeah.” He ran a hand through hair long enough to let the world know it was wavy. Time to get a haircut.
“It’s Jim. I spoke to Dan.” Had his boss gone to bat for him?
“And—?”
“He’ll cut you a separate deal. You get 50 percent of his royalties on Marry Money alone. No other titles. And no word on this to the publishing house. This is between you and him privately.”
“How do I know that he won’t cheat me?” Jude was elated at the offer. But he wanted to be sure it was airtight before accepting.
“Dan’s not like that.”
“Right. He’s a regular Girl Scout.” Dan had gotten his start as a wealth expert using proceeds he’d gained from suing his former employers. They’d settled out of court in what some had whispered was an enormous settlement, due mostly to Dan’s lawyer’s blackmail expertise.
“Okay. I’ll have his agent send you copies of the bi-yearly royalty statements from the publishing house. Will that do?”
“I still need it in writing. Along with Dan’s agreement.”
“You’ll get it.”
“I want 50 percent of everything. Foreign rights, too.”
“The deal is you get 50 percent of domestic after the agent’s fee is taken out. But I’ll ask Dan about foreign rights.”
“Don’t ask. Tell.”
“What’s gotten into you? You must be getting laid these days.”
“Mum’s the word.”
“I need a proposal and an outline from you for MM by the end of this week.”
“Marilyn Monroe?” He wasn’t partial to blondes, but if Marilyn had been around, he might have made an exception.
“Marry Money. Your new project.”
“I need a signed contract with Dan’s name on it before I deliver.”
“Get your ass in here Friday afternoon and you’ll get it.”
“Then, you’ll take me out for a beer?”
“Your balls have gotten bigger than your head. You’re lucky no one else was around to work on this. Watch yourself, man.
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