Interview with Love (26 page)

Being a native of Washington D.C. fed Lisa Watson's romantic imagination. Creating interesting, realistic characters that challenge personal and spiritual growth are her forte. Lisa has parlayed her love of the romance genre into her first solo novel, Watch Your Back (Urban Soul, Sept. 2009).

Lisa resides in North Carolina with her husband, son, daughter and dog, Boomer. She is an Asset Management Specialist for Logistics Applications, Inc and is a Sub-Contractor with HP for ATF. When she isn't working, she is doing her favorite things: Writing, hanging out with other authors and readers as co-publicist for the yearly RT BookReview Magazine's annual BOOKLOVERS Conventions, spending time with family and catching up on all the Tivo'd shows she never has time to see.

Lisa is working on the second book in her
Interview Series, Interview with Danger.

The sequel to
Interview with Love
(Urban Soul, September 2010)

 

Sasha Lambert rushed into her front door shutting it firmly behind her. She retrieved her cell phone and then dropped her purse on the table. “Hello?” “Am I speaking to bestselling author, Sasha Lambert?” “I don't know, are you?” “I most certainly am,” her agent, Jewel Lieberman said, excitedly. “It's been confirmed. Your book sales are through the roof. Stores can't keep The Passport Diaries on the shelves. I spoke to your publicist and she's got you booked solid over the next few weeks. Do you know how glad I am you aren't working for the airline anymore? There's no way we can afford to slow down the momentum on this.”

“I'm taking a big risk with this, Jewel. Milo wasn't exactly thrilled about me publishing this book. Now that it's a huge success he's even more annoyed.”

“Milo Georgopoulos is only concerned about how your fame will affect him. You won't be at his beck and call like you were before. That has to bug him.”

Sasha shrugged. “It's not like he can express too much displeasure. He's got a wife and kids to keep him occupied when I'm away. Besides, we're not exactly on the best of terms right now.”

“Why?”

“My heroine's affair with a married man, remember?”

“I don't understand. In The Passport Diaries Genevieve is involved with a Spanish media mogul. Milo's Greek and owns a soccer team. I don't see the connection here.”

“Neither did I, but he thinks there are similarities between my male character and him. Personally I think he's being ridiculous.”

Just then a loud knock sounded on her door. Startled, she looked toward the thunderous pounding. “Hang on, Jewel. Someone is banging on my door.”

“Banging? Whatever for?”

“I don't have a clue.” Sasha headed for the door. When she gazed through the peep hole she visibly relaxed. “It's Pierce.”

“Who?”

Sasha stepped a few feet away from the door. “Pierce Deveraux. He's the brother of my sister's fiancé. I can't imagine why he's in London. The last time I saw him was in North Carolina. I'll call you later, okay?”

“Um, sure.”

Before Sasha could hang up another round of knocking began. “Just a minute.” she yelled. She walked back to the door. She flung it open and stood there. “What's the bloody big emergency?” When he didn't answer right away she frowned. “Is something wrong? I just spoke with my Mom and Dad two days ago. They didn't say anything was wrong. Wait, is Sienna all right?”

Pierce pushed past her. “If I were you I'd worry less about your twin sister and more about your own safety.”

She shut the door behind him. By the time she turned around he was pacing like a caged animal. “Pierce, what is going on?”

“That's exactly what I would like to know. Have you lost your mind? Do you know what you've done?”

Sasha looked perplexed. “I'm not sure what you're talking about.”

“Jacob Oliver.”

She waited, but he didn't say anything else.

“Jacob Oliver,” he repeated.

“I know who he is. I wrote the book, remember? I'm just wondering what my character has to do with this.”

“He's me.”

Sasha looked perplexed. “You think Jacob from the Passport Diaries is you?” She started to laugh. “He isn't you, Pierce.”

“Well there are some of us that disagree with you. As a matter of fact the executives at the sporting goods store that just dropped me as their endorser. Apparently one of them read your book and thought your midnight Casanova was me. You just cost me seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars,” Pierce said, between clenched teeth.

Her smile faded immediately. “I don't understand.”

“They didn't want a womanizing, strung-out playboy athlete representing their store.”

“Pierce, that is absurd. You could throw a stick and hit a hundred men that fit that same description,” she laughed.

“You think this is funny? My flawless image just got tarnished and it's your fault. Do you know how hard I've worked to get where I am and just like that, in less than three hundred pages of some smutty book it's gone?”

“Now wait just a minute. My book is not smutty. It has real merit and it's a bestseller.”

“Is that so? Well sweetheart, I hope it's worth three quarters of a million dollars because that's how much you will be giving me or I'll sue it out of you for defamation of character.”

Sasha was shaking with indignation. “For the last time, I did not use you as the basis for my character. In case you hadn't realized it, I used to be a flight attendant and my boyfriend is a millionaire several times over.”

“Great for him,” Pierce sneered.

“Needless to say we've traveled extensively.”

“Your exploits with a married millionaire don't concern me,” Pierce said, sarcastically.

“The point is I've been all over the world and I've met dozens of Jacob Olivers in my travels and trust me, you aren't that original.”

Before he could respond a loud crash sounded behind them followed by a deafening boom. Pierce grabbed Sasha by the shoulders and hurled her to the floor using his body to shield her. A startled scream escaped her lips. Smoke filled the air causing them both to cough. After a few seconds of silence Sasha tried to get up. “Keep still.” He whispered harshly against the side of her face.

Pierce cautiously got up. “Stay here,” he commanded. He went to the front door and peered out through the massive hole. There were bystanders gathering on the sidewalk and he heard sirens in the distance.

She rolled over slightly but didn't try to get up. She placed her hands over her mouth. Her eyes burned. When he came back he extended his hand to help her up. “I guess that was someone's idea of a prank. It just released smoke. “By the sound of it the Police will be here soon.”

Sasha got up on her feet. “Bobbies,” she corrected heading for the kitchen.

“Uh, huh.” Pierce went over and kicked the spent container on the floor.

“Don't touch that,” she admonished. “It could be evidence.”

He bent down to look at something else. Sasha returned with a wet dish towel. She handed him one. “What's that?” She asked wiping her face.

“It's a huge rock,” his expression was grim. “If we had been standing here one of us would have a real bad headache right about now—or worse.” Pierce rose to his feet. He extended his hand toward Sasha. She looked down and saw a note scribbled on a wrinkled piece of paper. She read it. “It's not signed.”

“I can see that,” Pierce said, with exasperation.

She looked up worriedly. “I don't understand. Who would do something like this?”

He stared at her pointedly. “Apparently someone else you've pissed off.”