In My Professor's Arms
Her lips curve, and I feel it—the old pull, the way we used to push each other's limits.
I tell her the dream: small press, writers chosen by hand, raw voices like the one in Lily's blog, though I don't say her name.
Megan's eyes narrow, her fingers tracing the stem of her glass, her eyes keen, yet soft. "You'll need capital," she says, her voice all business. "Investors, a name that will make you stand out.
Lucky, I have one or two that could help with proper distribution, and marketing."
Her confidence is tangible, and I am thinking of the woman who built a cosmetic empire from nothing. I lean in, my elbows on the table. "That's one of the plenty reasons why I'm here. I need you, Megan."
Hot Chapters