Mark my words dirty word.., p.1
Mark my Words: Dirty Words Series Book 2, page 1
Copyright © 2023 by E.L. Koslo
2nd Edition
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Cover: Designed by E.L. Koslo
Shutterstock: OPOLJA – 1833364411
Depositphotos: floral_set - 321167108, NataliiaVolyk – 246130544, losw – 10310032
Envato Elements licensed fonts: Barcelony and Baskerville BT
Interior Formatting: E.L. Koslo using Atticus
Contents
Dedication
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
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
1. Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Epilogue: Part One
Epilogue: Part Two
Also By
Acknowledgements
Sneak Peek
Bound by Words: Chapter One
Bound by Words: Chapter Two
Social Media
About the author
This book is for all the women who have ever been told they are too much.
Honey, you’re just my kind of too much.
Don’t ever change.
All content warnings are on my website at ELKoslo.com/words-series
KRISTINE
BOSTON
When I arrived at work this morning, I was looking forward to getting right to work on the manuscript I’d been doing a developmental edit on, but no. Of course not. Today had to be the day that I was voluntold to babysit another copy-editing intern because one of the authors he worked with had gone off the rails. I didn’t have time to babysit anyone, I didn’t want to babysit anyone, and I performed much better alone when I didn’t have to deal with other people’s bullshit.
The phrase team player didn’t apply to me because I didn’t want to be part of the team. Now Sam, on the other hand. He was the epitome of being a team player and worked for the bane of my existence.
“I can’t believe you’re making me work with that egotistical waste of perfectly good brain matter. Sam’s a first-class douche canoe,” I sighed as I looked at my boss, Isobel. I’d worked with her for a while, and she’d asked me to take on some pretty time-intensive projects in the past, but this was too much.
“You’ll be fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. “If I have to put up with Adrian on this one, you can deal with Sam. He’s not as bad as you make him out to be.”
“I’m not sure he can dedicate all his remaining brain cells to focus on this project.”
“Would you quit pretending he’s an idiot? He graduated Summa Cum Laude from Duke.“ Isobel shook her head as she gave me an exasperated look. And he liked to tell everyone about it, or at least his boss did. I graduated from Harvard; you didn’t see me asking people for a cookie.
“I think he’s taken one too many performance enhancements in his time for his brain to work properly. I mean, come on, he played lacrosse.” I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms over my chest. “I bet he does CrossFit. I bet he actually enjoys it. Who enjoys CrossFit? I know normal people don’t. It’s like some millennial form of a torture ritual.”
“Lots of intelligent people go to school on athletic scholarships. Not everyone can be born with a silver spoon.” She arched an eyebrow back at me, crossing her arms to match my standoffish posture. This was always going to be a point of contention between us. Isobel had worked two jobs and put herself through school, and I...well...
“Hey, I got in all by myself. I graduated with honors, too. You act like I was handed a diploma without working for it.” My last name may have ensured my application was reviewed, but I earned my spot at Harvard. I also busted my ass to prove that I wasn’t my brother. I didn’t need grades handed to me.
“I get it,” Isobel told me in that placating tone of voice she used when she was trying to get me to do something she knew I would object to. “I went Ivy League too, but I also ate Ramen noodles my first three years out of school. Anyway–” she sighed. “It’s not my choice. When our authors collaborate, we all have to play nice.”
“Why is Chase helping that hermit guy anyway?” I knew Evan was a bestselling author, but I thought he might be taking the tortured artist routine a little too far. He rarely came into the office, but when he did, it was all cloak and dagger. Why any of the editors went to all that trouble for one writer was beyond me.
“He’s not a hermit. He simply likes privacy and has a touch of social anxiety,” she said, shrugging. Yeah, sure. Just a touch. Right...
“You told Chase he never left his house. Doesn’t that make him a hermit?”
“I prefer the term recluse. It makes him sound more mysterious,” Adrian called out from Isobel’s open door. Oh, joy. He was my favorite person in the whole company. Which was why I rarely called him by his first name, preferring to stick to his official title, Dickhead.
“Do you lurk in the hallway waiting to interrupt other people’s conversations?” Isobel rolled her eyes, but I saw them lingering on how his shirt clung to his overly large biceps while he leaned against the door frame. I was convinced the big muscles were compensation for something else being not so big. His brain surely wasn’t his only tiny body part.
“Hey! Your intern was trash-talking my writer and my intern. I was only walking by.” He was trying to look innocent, but his stalker tendencies were showing. Over the last few weeks, I’d seen him lurking in the hallway more than average.
“Walking by to where? My office is at the end of the hallway.” At least Isobel didn’t seem to be falling for his bullshit excuses.
I seriously didn’t know how she put up with all these muscle-bound idiots. Adrian clearly had the hots for her and didn’t have a big enough pair to do something about it.
Personally, I didn’t understand the hype. The expensive piece of hardware inside my nightstand did a better job than any man ever had. And I didn’t have to talk to it after. Why waste your energy on morons who only want to get into your pants when you can give yourself a good time? Or at least take the edge off.
“Evan’s sent me some new pages,” he told her, his voice a little guarded, but I could tell he was secretly excited about something from the gleam in his eyes.
“Already?” Isobel’s eyes widened.
“Yeah, your girl has been working her magic,” he said, looking mildly impressed.
Isobel’s mouth dropped open dramatically, and she made a fake little gasping noise. “Was that an actual compliment about Chase?”
“Well, she is pretty flirty, so I can see how it’d be easy for her to write about sex.” And just like that, the sleaze shoved his foot in his mouth three sentences into a conversation. That had to be a new record for him.
“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t talk right now, so my knee doesn’t have to slip into your nuts—accidentally, of course.” His head swiveled comically in my direction, and I narrowed my eyes at him. Chase was a professional, and he was a giant douche who needed to watch himself.
“Are you really going to let your intern talk to me like that?” he asked Isobel, pointing at me.
“Are you still talking?” I scoffed, sitting down and facing away from him.
“I’m sure the two of you can figure out how to get along,” Isobel sighed, exasperated.
She may have been able to put up with his childish bullshit, but I didn’t have to. There wasn’t enough bonus pay in the world to put up with Adrian regularly. “Hard pass.”
“She’d better watch her mouth around my intern,” Adrian told her, clearly pretending I wasn’t in the room. “He’s good at his job, and I don’t want the fire this dragon spews out to scare him off. Quality talent shouldn’t be stifled because you won’t control your pet bully of an intern.”
“Are you implying that I’m not good at my job?” I turned in my chair and pinned him with a scathing look. I was not about to put up with him degrading my work. He was not my boss, and I did not and would not ever report to him.
“You can infer whatever you’d like from my comment,” he said dismissively, swallowing hard as I glared at him. He may be trying to play the tough guy, but I wasn’t intimidated by him.
“If your intern can’t handle my fiery personality, then he can take a flying leap off of—“ I started in on him.
“Kristine! Stop.
The death glare she was giving Adrian even shriveled my balls. “Seriously? Must you fight with everyone, Adrian? We get it. You think your shit smells like roses.”
“At least it doesn’t smell like—“
“Eh!” She warned, putting her hand up in front of his mouth. “Knock it off. If you tried hard, I’m sure you could be a professional.”
“I am professional,” he huffed, his voice taking on an annoying, whiny quality. Clearly, he didn’t like Isobel calling him out on his behavior.
“Pffft...” The noise came out of my lips all on its own, but Isobel’s head still swiveled in my direction.
“You’re not helping.” Damn, I might have pissed her off. I still wasn’t Dickhead though; she was super angry at him.
“Well, sorry if I can’t help but laugh when someone says something stupid.” My face also apparently did this thing where my top lip curled and my eyes showed my unimpressed thoughts. My brother had given me a shirt for my birthday last year that said, ‘If my mouth doesn’t say it, my face certainly will.’ My mother had been horrified, but it wasn’t wrong.
“You could learn something as well about knowing when to stop.” She pointed at me just as Adrian made a face at me over her shoulder. He was lucky I couldn’t reach the stapler. “Not every sarcastic remark sent in your direction needs to be returned with something ten times worse.”
I snapped my mouth shut and crossed my arms over my chest. This was turning out to be a shit day. Chase was supposed to be writing another steamy romance novel, not helping a mystery writer—with a limp noodle—figure out how to pleasure a fictional character.
“Alright, what exactly do you need from me?” Isobel wasn’t letting me off the hook with this project, and I knew I was pushing the envelope of her tolerance.
“Adrian will send you the first draft of the manuscript. Check it for plot holes and start marking up copy with edits.”
“Sam’s already done that,” Adrian said smugly. Of course he’d give his intern a head start. Lord knows what Sam had done to that markup.
“Did she ask you for direction?” Isobel gave him a pointed look, and he opened his mouth but shut it again before he responded.
“No, but he’s my—“
“If you want to continue to utilize my writer when she’s mid-contract, and taking time off from her book, not to mention my copy intern, then we do this my way,” she told him, leaving no room for interpretation.
“But—“
“Either Kristine checks the first draft, or we’re wasting our time.” We would see if I could salvage whatever Sam had done to the original draft.
“Evan has been on the New York—“ Adrian sputtered, pulling out his usual line of ‘my author is more important than yours...blah blah blah.’
“Times bestseller list, we get it,” Isobel finished for him, not sounding the least bit impressed. “You’ve beaten that horse to death. Enough with the macho posturing. You asked for help. We’re providing it, but you don’t get to dictate how this goes.”
“There’s a reason they put me with Isobel. I’m good at combing through the text to ensure the plot is cohesive.” I had better attention to detail than some of the more experienced senior editors and certainly the pool of other interns. He may not like me, but I was damn good at my job.
He turned to look at me with an eyebrow raised. “Mystery and suspense novels...”
“Are still novels,” I pointed out in a bored tone. “They all have a formula, and it’s my job to find the holes.”
“There are no holes that need to be filled.” He tried to look intimidating, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
I snorted as I tried to hold back the laughter. Adrian didn’t realize what he said could be taken in an entirely dirty manner. “Well, obviously, some holes aren’t filled right if you need Chase as a consultant.”
“How dare—“
Isobel laughed, shooting him an unimpressed look. “She’s right.”
“Thank you.” I smiled over at Isobel. At least she didn’t let the jerks in this office walk all over her.
“Fine. I’ll send Sam down with a hard copy,” he sighed.
“Great.” I nodded. Not meaning it at all. Hard copy meant that I had to interact with Sam. And he’d probably want to work with me in person. Ick.
“Thank you, Ad. Now, why did you come down here to begin with?” Isobel asked after we all agreed.
“Does she have to sit there in the corner and stare at me?” he asked, glancing at where I was seated.
Widening my eyes, I sat forward, resting my chin on my hands, batting my eyelashes. He gave me a weird look and focused on Isobel.
“Kris...” she warned as she pointed at my computer.
“I don’t have to. It’s enjoyable for me to make you uncomfortable.“ Making sure to maintain eye contact, I smiled innocently. He blinked and looked away—chicken shit.
“Go get some coffee or something. Please?” Is requested, and I narrowed my eyes at her.
“My mug is full.” I shrugged and held it up for her to see. I knew hers was also full because I wasn’t a total amateur.
“Kristine. Go get me some coffee. Either at the café downstairs or the one down the street, your decision.” Fuck. She was dismissing me.
“Fine,” I sighed. Most of the time, she didn’t mind if I sat quietly in the corner while she met with other staff, but apparently, Isobel needed privacy with the king of the dicks.
Gathering my bag and laptop, I stepped out and made a show of closing the door. I could hear lowered voices as I walked away but knew she’d bust me if I eavesdropped. I didn’t like being out of the loop. Everyone in the office was aware of my reputation. I was always listening. I knew the dirt on everyone. The weird fetishes of some authors, the dirty secrets people whispered in their office when they thought no one could hear. I knew it all.
“Where are you going?”
God, not again. We had a few unpaid interns who were still undergraduates who worked around the office during the school year. They were usually scouted from some of the top English lit programs locally, or in Carson’s case, they were related to an executive.
“Coffee. Nothing that should interest you. Don’t you have some copies to make?” I rolled my eyes at the tall, good-looking jackass who enjoyed asking me pointless questions all day.
“Oh, come on, Kristi, you secretly love having me around.” My lip curled up at all the white teeth on display as he smiled at me.
“Nope.”
“Why are you so grouchy today?” He started following me down the hallway, not even breaking his pace when I glared at him over my shoulder.
Most of the guys in the office were the same. Tall, attractive, mildly intelligent, over-educated, and thought the world adored them.
“Go away.” Shoo...
“I can come with you,” he offered as he tried to keep up with my brisk walk.
“Those copies aren’t gonna make themselves. The whole office will shut down without you, Carse,” I teased in a faux pleasant voice. He really couldn’t take a hint.
“Ha-ha. We both know this office is mostly paperless. You’re one of the only copy editors who still insists on marking up a physical copy.” He looked so proud that he knew that. It only showed how creepy he was for watching me. We all had a preferred method of how we worked.
“And that’s why they keep me around. Because I catch things that the tablet jockeys miss.”
“And because you know how to wear the hell out of a pencil skirt.”
I stopped in my tracks, turning to face him as my bag hit the floor with a dull thunk. “Listen here, you little—“
“Kris! There you are. Adrian sent me to find you.” Sam gripped my elbow and tugged me back from where I’d stepped toward Carson. He bent down and grabbed my bag, thrusting it into my arms.
“Let’s get going on that special errand,” he said—a little louder than his normal voice—before he looked over his shoulder and gave Carson a warning smile.
“Since when is coffee a special errand?” Carson asked as he tried to follow us.
“Take a hint, Carson.” Sam placed his arm around my waist and pushed me toward the elevators. “You’re out of line. Again.”
“Fine. I’ll come find you later, Kristi.” Carson winked before he turned, walking in the opposite direction.
