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Prologue-Evan

The controlled silence of a college library contained the excitement as Evan Taylor eagerly searched for books to check out. His eyes scanned from left to right through each shelf, finding the yellow cover just beyond his reach. The tattered and dirty gray sneakers stepped onto the edge of the first shelf, giving him a boost to his barely average height. His fingers grazed the spine of the book, knocking it from its place on the shelf. With another gust of momentum, Evan pushed himself up and grabbed the bottom of the cover, removing it from the shelf. Thumbing through the first few pages, Evan decided having a book about not writing an effective mystery novel would be a key component to his literary arsenal. Before bringing it back to his table, he scanned the shelves once more. As he reached the fourth shelf, he could hear a book sliding from its place. Evan looked up and found a similar paperback tumbling towards him. His instinct told him to move, but his feet did not respond quickly enough. The top of the book collided with his forehead, knocking his glasses off his face.

Ah damn it. Evan knelt down, using his hands to search for his thick black rimmed glasses. Once he located them, he grabbed the book and returned to the table where he stacked five other books on how to write. The topmost book was thinner, and was designed to give potential authors the inspiration and dedication to write like a pro. Feeling that it would be the quickest read, Evan sat down and dove right into the first chapter.

Students slowly trickled down to the first floor, passing Evan’s desk. Their animated discussion peaked his interest, forcing him to listen in on them.

This was so cool, one boy said. I can’t believe he’s actually here and he signed my book too.

Dude, that’s nothing. I got a signed book and my picture with him.

Curiosity was ringing through Evan as he inched closer to the guys talking about some author’s book signing. The way they were talking, it sounded like it happened on campus.

Man, I’m glad we got here when we did. We would’ve missed out on all the fun.

See, aren’t you glad I talked you into cutting class?

Evan was now completely convinced the book signing happened on campus. He just didn’t know who it was and if they were still there. He stepped out from shelves and tapped one of the boys on the shoulder.

Hey, who are you talking about? They looked at Evan as if he had five heads. Come on; I heard you talking about a signing. Who was it?

They looked at each other and shrugged. P. J. Anderson, you know, the guy who co-wrote that government conspiracy series.

The color in Evan’s face dropped. P.J. Anderson was one of his favorite authors. He co-wrote the Project Justice, a government conspiracy series that depicted vigilantes in their twenties traveling the country killing in the name of justice at the government’s command.

What-what was he doing here?

I don’t know. There’s a rumor he used to go to college here and wanted to visit some old professors.

I can’t believe I missed him. When did he leave?

The boys laughed at him. Don’t get your panties in a bunch buddy. I think he’s still around here somewhere.

Yeah, there was still a few people on line waiting to meet him.

Hope filled Evan’s eyes. Where? Where was the signing?

Relax dude; he should still be upstairs signing books.

Evan raced back to the table and grabbed the books he wanted to check out. A set of stairs sat in the middle of the library, permitting the access to the second floor. Evan flew up the stairs, taking two steps at a time until his eyes latched onto the small line of students. He couldn’t believe his luck. Here he was trying to find books about becoming a writer, when one of his favorites was upstairs signing books and taking pictures with students. Evan hurried to the line and took his spot on the end.

Evan placed the library books on the floor and dug through his backpack, searching for his copy of Project Justice. He pushed papers, folders and notebooks aside until he came across the book with a phoenix plastered across a grass background. Evan breathed a sigh of relief as he closed his bag and picked up the library books. The line seemed to move quicker than he thought. Soon, Evan reached the front of the line. He was also the last one waiting to get a book signed. His idol sat before him wearing an orange polo and blue jeans. When he was done taking pictures with the female student that practically drooled on him as he hugged, Evan walked up to the table.

Evan nervously placed the book in front of the author. P.J. smiled at him. The pages were worn, unlike many of the other students that brought him books with the pages still stuck together. How many times have you read it, P.J. asked.

Evan was speechless. He didn’t know what to tell him. I-um read it about five or six times.

P.J. laughed and reached into his bag. He pulled out a brand new copy of the book and placed it on top of Evan’s. How do you want me to sign it?

The pent up excitement deflated like an untied blown up balloon that was released. I-I can’t afford to buy another one.

Tell me; what characters did you like the most?

Most people who read the story always pulled for Andrew Lancaster and Lilly Henderson. They enjoyed the chemistry of the characters and hoped they would have a happy ending, but not Evan. The Benefactor, he replied.

P.J. picked up his head and stared at Evan. Why do you like him? He’s the villain?

Because without him there wouldn’t be a Project Justice. He put the group together, and he made sure the group got through their missions safely.

But at the end of the book...

I know, but despite his flaws as a person, he had the best interest of the country at heart. He was doing what he thought was best to protect the country.

Evan saw the look on P.J.’s face. It was the look one gets when they were given a new perspective. I like it. P.J. replied. It makes the villain appear more as an anti-hero. He took a marker and signed the pristine white cover. It’s on me kid."

Are you sure? P.J. nodded yes. Thanks. He stared at the two books as they lay on top of each other. I’m Evan by the way.

Nice to meet you Evan. P.J. looked around and noticed there were no more students in line to request his autograph. He cleared off the desk he sat at and grabbed his bag. You know; I could use some coffee right about now. What do you say about hitting up the Starbucks down the block? Maybe you can tell me more about what you think of my characters.

Evan smiled and walked with P.J. as they exited campus. It was a brisk spring day, perfect for being outside. As they approached the science buildings, Evan decided it was time to push his luck and pick P.J.’s brain.

So, what made you decide to become an author?

I started writing because I had a story idea that just wouldn’t go away. I kept thinking it would be a cool movie idea and that if I wrote the book first, it would be the path to getting a movie deal. He paused and stared at the Lecture Hall before continuing. When I left here, it took a few years for me to get started. I thought everything I wrote was the best thing out there and I would be a millionaire in a few years. Then I submitted the work to literary agents, and found out the hard way that I wasn’t nearly as good as I thought.

Yeah, but you landed one that got you a book deal; right?

No, not at first. It took me a long time before I found someone willing to give me the time of day. I chose to go the self-publishing route for a little while and get a few books out there, like Project Justice.

So how did you get your name out there? And how did you get an agent? And how much did you make while self-publishing?

P.J. stopped at the edge of the crosswalk and glanced at Evan. Are you asking because you’re curious, or are you asking because this is something you want to do with your life?

Evan shyly smiled. I want to be an author.

P.J. clapped him on the back. Then there’s a lot you should know about the industry before jumping in with both feet. Come on; I’ll tell you what I can over coffee.

Evan and P.J. entered Starbucks, ordered their drinks and began discussing life as an author. P.J. tried to tell him what to expect; what to look for in literary agents; how he preps himself before writing a book with research and outlines; even a few websites and books to check out. They spent two hours discussing the best route for Evan to take if he was serious about becoming an author. When they were done, Evan said goodbye to P.J. and returned to campus in search of his girlfriend.

The dorms were quiet that day. Most of the students were either in class or tucked away in their rooms or lounges studying for their exams. Evan used the phone in the lobby to call his girlfriend, Molly’s room.

Hey babe, I’m here. Can you come down and let me in?

Ugh, can’t you just find someone to let you in?

There’s no one around. And the last time I did that, the R.A. busted me and told me you needed to escort me inside the building.

She let out an exasperated sigh. Fine, I’ll be down there in a few minutes. Molly pulled the phone away from her face, but a few words still found their mark on the receiver as she hung it up. Lousy, good for nothing asshole.

Evan heard her. The words stung as if someone slapped him in his chest. He hung up the phone, trying his best to repress his anger. He waited five minutes before seeing Molly’s long dark brown hair, and resentful eyes as she stepped off the elevator. Her arms swung violently back and forth as she approached the front door. Her hands slammed against the push bar, allowing Evan access to the dorm.

Well, don’t just stand there looking like an idiot. She pushed the door again, the force of which drove it into the wall. The anger he felt minutes ago was overridden with a bit of fear.

They entered the elevator and took it to the third floor before walking the lengthy corridor to Molly’s room. Once they were inside, a smile swept across Evan’s face.

So I have a bit of good news for us.

Molly, always the skeptic, cast a side glance at him. What kind of good news? She raised an eyebrow and faked excitement. Did you finally get that promotion at the video store?

Evan missed the sarcasm of her question. No; better. He rubbed his hands together excitedly and placed them on Molly’s shoulders, directing her to the bed. So I was in the library taking out books on writing. Molly rolled her eyes instantly. And I ran into P.J. Anderson. Molly shook her head from side to side while turning the palms of her hands up. Come on; you know him. He’s one of my favorite authors.

Evan, I don’t have time for this right now. Is there a point to your little story?

Yes there’s a point. I met with P.J. and had coffee together. We talked for the last couple of hours about becoming a writer and what I need to do to become an author.

Molly shot up from the bed and stared deep into Evan’s eyes. What do you mean you were talking for the last couple of hours? What about class?

Well...I...uh...kind of missed it.

So let me get this straight. You ditched class so you can talk to some hack author about throwing your life away to follow in his footsteps?

He’s not a hack. He’s written several books, has an agent, and does pretty well for himself. P.J. told me what to expect.

Oh, so he told you that you’re going to fail miserably at being a writer and leech off of your girlfriend for the rest of your life?

What the hell is with you? Why are you so against me being an author? What’s so wrong with it?

Molly shoved a stiff pointed finger at Evan’s chest. Because you are throwing away your potential on a kid’s dream. You think you’re going to be rich and famous from doing it, but all you’re going to do is flunking out of college and doing nothing with your life. She turned to her side and returned with a loud slap across his face. Wake the fuck up. It’s a dream and nothing more. You need to get your head out of the clouds, finish your degree and get a great paying job so I can stay home and raise our future children.

In Evan’s mind, it was bad enough Molly didn’t support his dream, but physical aggression was a new low for her. He rubbed the side of his face, which now had a large red mark on it.

You know what; I’m done.

Done? Done with what?

Done with you not respecting or supporting my dreams and what I want out of life. Done with you putting me down. And after that slap, I’m done with you. Evan stormed out of the room and tried to slam the door shut behind him, but the tension in the door prevented it from being slammed.

Good, maybe now I can find a real man, one that knows how to treat a woman. Something heavy hit the door from inside the bedroom. Evan knew Molly must have thrown something at him as the door closed.

He leaned against the wall and breathed a sigh of relief. You’ll see; I’ll prove you wrong, and then you’ll be sorry for the way you treated me.

Chapter 1-Evan

(5 Years Later)

The bedroom door slammed against the wall, as a tall boney woman entered Evan’s room. Her short black and gray hair stood on end, reminding her son of a crazy crane hair style.

Are you going to waste the entire day sleeping, Mrs. Taylor snapped. Evan refused to respond, igniting a spark of anger and frustration through his mother. She stormed over to the bed and pinched the comforter with her fingers. In one quick tug, the comforter dropped below Evan’s upper body. He wrestled with her for control until his mother gave up the fight over the blanket. Fine, you wanna be lazy... She moved towards the window and ripped the curtains down, exposing the room to the bright blinding sun.

Come on ma; why can’t you just let me sleep?

If I let you sleep, you’ll sleep the entire day.

Evan rolled over and looked at the alarm clock. Are you kidding me? It’s only eight in the morning.

And? You should be up and getting dressed for work.

It’s my day off.

Mrs. Taylor paced around the room picking dirty clothes off the floor, making faces and sticking her tongue out with every item she collected from the pile at the foot of the bed. It’s always your day off. With how much time you have off, you should go out and get yourself another job. Maybe then you can start paying us back the money you owe us.

"What money?

The money you spent on college.

Evan jumped out of bed. You guys said you were paying for me to go to college so I didn’t have to worry about financial aid.

And we did; right up until you flunked out. Her tone became harsher the moment she mentioned her son’s failure. Now that you’re done wasting our money, I think it’s about time you pay us back.

You can’t be serious. He waited in hopes that his mother was joking, but the look on her face never changed. Evan grabbed his phone and searched for a name through his contacts list.

Who are you calling?

Dad; maybe he can straighten this out. The phone rang multiple times until a raspy voice answered. Evan vented about his mother and her claims of him owing his parents all the money they gave him for college.

Son, that money was an investment in your future, a future you pissed away by living some silly fantasy. We gave you that money with the stipulation that you needed to keep your grades up. You didn’t hold up your end of the deal. We let you slide for the last year and a half, hoping you would try to get back into school, or that you would give up on that ridiculous dream and get a real job. Since you have failed to do either of those, then we have no choice and must take a more drastic approach. So from this point forward, as long as you stay under our roof, you will pay back everything you owe us.

But dad...

But nothing. If you’re going to live under our roof, then you’ll abide by our rules. If you don’t like it; tough shit. You know where the door is.

Evan was stunned by his father’s cold bluntness. He looked back at his mother. The angry look she displayed earlier was now replaced by an evil grin of satisfaction. See, I told you. Now I know your brother is looking for help at his store.

Evan threw his hands in the air before dropping his body back to the bed. Here we go again.

What’s that supposed to mean?

It means, you never stop talking about Randy and how successful he’s been since he opened his cell phone store.

So now I can’t be proud of my son?

Of course you can. I just don’t understand why you have to rub it in my face every time I turn around.

Mrs. Taylor pointed a bony finger at Evan. Because at least one of my sons is doing something productive with his life. At least Randy is a son we can be proud of. He has vision. He has passion and a drive to be successful. Rather than continue to argue, Evan shut down and attempted to crawl back to bed. Oh no you don’t. You have an interview in an hour and a half at your brother’s store.

I don’t need a job at his stupid store. I already have a job.

Well, you can work there and have two jobs.

How? I work full time and am a published author trying to make a name for myself. If I took on a second job, then I’d have no time for sleep.

Mrs. Taylor placed her hands on her hips. Then I suggest you give up that pathetic dream of yours. You’re not really doing anything with it. I mean; you don’t do any book signings, I’ve only seen your book once or twice in stores, and you’re still single living at home with your mommy and daddy.

Evan couldn’t believe his ears. His mother, the woman that carried him for nine months and raised him for last twenty-one years to set big goals and follow his dreams, was happily crushing his spirit.

Evan was on the verge of tears. His hands were clenched around his pillow, wishing it was his mother’s throat. They always had a rocky relationship. When he was a child she was too over-protective, but was constantly nit picking him since he was a teenager. It got progressively worse during college, and had hit a critical point when he flunked out. But at that moment, she was crossing a line she would never come back from.

Get out, Evan snapped. His mother stood there and shook it off as if he was a child trying to bark out orders. I said get out!

Or what, Mrs. Taylor said with a smirk on her face.

Evan stormed up to her. His eyes were deadlocked on hers. There was an intensity there demanding the attention and respect he deserved. He pointed at the open door. Get the fuck out of my room before you make me do something I’ll regret.

His words shook Mrs. Taylor. The smirk was removed from her face. She slowly backed up until she stood next to the door. Just wait until your father gets home. Evan moved briskly toward her. His hand gripped the hinge and slammed the door shut. And you better get that job at your brother’s store. Her words screeched through the closed door. It took everything in Evan not to reply, but that would just give her more ammo to supply his father with when he got home.

Fucking bitch, Evan muttered under his breath. Hating that he let her get under his skin like she did, Evan punched his pillows with everything he had, wishing the damage could be done to them. Her last statement ignited his spitefulness. She’s insane if she thinks I’m going to work there. His mind was made up. He was going to defy her demand by jumping back into bed and curling up with his pillows and blankets. Fate seemed to have other plans. As the sheet was pulled up to his chin, his phone vibrated on the nightstand. The name Christopher Waters appeared on the screen. Evan nearly jumped at the name. His agent rarely called. In fact, Mr. Waters only called when there was really good news (which was rare), or bad news (which was the typical conversation). Mr. Waters, how are you?

Fantastic, he replied, which was much different than his usual grunts. Listen Evan; I need you to get down to my office as soon as you can. I’ve got some potentially good news for you.

Really, the shock of hearing Waters claim to have good news was evident in Evan’s voice. What kind of good news?

I’m not at liberty to discuss anything further over the phone. When can you get down here and meet with me?

Evan looked at the time. It was perfectly aligned with the time his mother scheduled him an interview at his brother’s store. I can be there in an hour.

Perfect, I’ll see you then.

Evan let out a silent whoop of excitement before running to the bedroom door. Ma, I need to borrow the car.

For what, she yelled.

Evan had the plan in his mind. Hoping the news his agent had was really good, he decided to play his mother’s game of control. I need it to get some clothes for my interview, and then I’m heading to the store.

Mrs. Taylor appeared at the door moments later. Her lips twitched an approving smile. Finally, I knew you’d come to your senses. She placed the keys in his hand. I expect to hear the good news when you get back.

Evan took the keys with his true intentions masked behind the fake smile. Of course; you have my word.

Chapter 2-Evan

Evan stared at the towering building before him as he walked through the streets of New York City. He had only been to his agent’s office twice before. The massive building on Park Avenue oozed success, a success Evan desperately wanted.

Two sets of eyes were latched onto Evan as he entered the building through the golden revolving door. He was dressed in an old wrinkled black suit that was two sizes too large for him. Can I help you sir, one of the security guards asked.

I’m here to meet with my literary agent.

You must be looking for the Conley and Waters Agency. Take the elevator up to the tenth floor.

With a bit of a skip in his step, Evan stepped in front of the elevators and took the brief ride to the tenth floor. As he exited, Evan found the office had been remodeled. Glass walls and doors stood at the entrance. Grayish white tiles showed him the path to the reception desk.

A cheery strawberry blond waited until Evan stood in front of her before welcoming him to the office. Hi, how can I help you?

I’m Evan Taylor. I’m here to see Christopher Waters.

Is he expecting you?

Yes, he just called me an hour ago to meet him here.

Okay, one moment. The receptionist dialed on the phone to check if Mr. Waters was indeed expecting the guest and if he was ready for him. She placed the receiver down and smiled at Evan. If you’d like to have a seat, Mr. Waters will be with you momentarily.

Evan picked up a magazine from the pile from the white end table. He thumbed through a few pages before hearing his name called. Christopher Waters stood next to the reception desk with his slicked back hair and pinstriped grey Brunello Cucinelli suit. Everything about this man screamed success including his Rolex watch, fifteen-hundred dollar pair of Canali shoes, and the countless models he’s dated well throughout his thirties and his current forties.

Evan, glad you can make it down on such short notice.

Evan was surprised to see his agent outside of the office. Not once, in the year and a half he knew Christopher Waters, has he once met Evan outside of his office. Usually the flavor of the month secretary would escort him into the office. Seeing his agent standing there to greet him gave Evan the impression the news was much better than he was hoping for.

Evan jumped to his feet. Based on your call, I got down here as fast as I could. What’s this good news that you couldn’t discuss over the phone?

Not here son; come with me to my office and we’ll discuss your future. He held out a hand, gesturing for Evan to follow him down the hall to one of the largest offices he had ever seen. Ivory couches lined the wall. A Mahogany desk sat in front of a window that provided an amazing view of the New York City Skyline.

I don’t remember your office looking like this.

Business has been very good lately. Our office received a full remodel over the last eight months. Mr. Waters gestured to a lavish leather chair in front of the desk. Please, have a seat. Evan did as instructed. He watched as Christopher Waters carefully removed his flawless suit jacket and hung it up neatly, ensuring there wasn’t a single wrinkle added to it.

Evan couldn’t contain his excitement any longer. His leg was bouncing up and down in the chair. So...what was the good news?

Evan, you’ve been with us for quite a while now. In that time, how many books have you sold?

I-I don’t know; a handful I guess.

And how many book signings and events have you been to?

Not liking where the conversation was headed, Evan hesitantly answered. Three or four I think.

How would you like to do a lot more than three or four?

What are you talking about?

Mr. Waters stepped out from behind his desk. Recent numbers have come in, and apparently your book is starting to get a bit of a following.

Really? The shock voiced itself before Evan could contain it.

You seem surprised.

I just thought...I mean...that’s pretty cool.

Indeed, but we need to get you ready.

I’m ready right now. When do I start?

Mr. Waters stared at Evan’s wrinkled old suit with distain. We’re sending you to New Jersey starting this weekend. But this, he waged his finger up and down, directing the attention to Evan’s clothes, needs to change. He walked back to his desk and pushed the intercom button. Kat, can you come here for a minute?

The door opened moments later, allowing a six-foot tall blond woman to enter. She strutted towards them in a pair of strappy black Gucci shoes. Her black slit skirt came down to mid-thigh, showing off her nice long legs.

You wanted to see me sir?

Mr. Waters patted Evan’s shoulder and whispered in his ear, wipe the drool from your mouth. He straightened himself and approached the long legged goddess. Kat, I’d like you to meet one of my authors. This is Evan Taylor. Waters placed a hand on the small of the woman’s back. Evan, this is Kat. She is my, he shifted his eyes side to side, mulling over what he wanted to call her. She’s my personal assistant. She’ll be helping you prepare for this weekend’s signings.

Signings...as in multiple? The thought of laying out money to purchase the amount of books needed to fill the request of a signing was more than Evan could afford.

I told you earlier, you would be doing a lot more than three or four. I have two set up on Saturday and one on Sunday. If all goes well, we may be booking many more for you.

I don’t know if I can afford to order that many books.

Don’t worry about that. I’ve already spoken with the book stores. They placed an order the other day and are due to receive their shipment by Friday the latest.

Okay, what else do I need to do to prepare for it?

For starters, you need to upgrade that wardrobe.

Evan looked down at his wrinkled suit. In his mind, it was the nicest thing he owned. What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?

Kat circled around the chair, tapping a perfectly manicured finger against her cherry red lips. The suit is nice, but horribly wrinkled. The shirt and tie look like you picked them up at a cheap discount store. The shoes are in need of a desperate polish. Kat stopped in front of Evan. Tell me; do you own anything nicer than this? Evan shook his head regrettably.

Do you think you can help him, Mr. Waters asked.

Yes, but it could take a while. She winked at Mr. Waters, eliciting a smile from him. He reached into his wallet and pulled out a black card. Kat’s grin grew wider, knowing she could buy whatever she wanted. I’ll be back in a few hours.

Kat grabbed a hold of Evan’s arm and pulled him up from his chair. He stumbled to keep up as his eyes were focused on the lower half of her body. She stopped short as they reached the door leading to the elevator.

Evan’s focus lifted meeting Kat’s gaze. Where are we going?

We’re going to get you some new clothes. We want you looking your best before your signings. She hooked a finger under his chin. Trust me; you’ll be more than ready for your trip. Hell, you might even get laid. Evan took a deep breath and the let the possibility sink in as the elevator doors enclosed him and Kat.

Thirty minutes later, a Lincoln Towncar arrived in front of Saks. The silence within was quieter than a closed library. A seat of distance separated the two.

You know I don't bite, Kat said breaking the silence. You can talk to me."

Marry me, Evan blurted. Kat did her best to hide the laughter that erupted. I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know what came over me.

It’s okay, she replied.

No, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just...I mean look at you. I’ve never met anyone as beautiful as you.

She placed a hand on top of Evan’s. It’s okay; relax. Out of all the comments I get, that had to be one of the nicest. She sighed and smiled as the car door opened. Keep sweet talking like that, and you’ll have your choice of women.

Evan’s face lit up like a beam of light as he followed Kat into the store. He spun in a circle, taking in all of incredibly expensive clothes. I can’t afford this stuff.

For now, you don’t have to. Kat displayed the black credit card between her fingers. This little shopping spree is on Mr. Waters. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the men’s department.

They began by checking out the