Free Blowing It by Kate Aaron Page A

He was leading me from
the pub, and the photo clearly showed our clasped hands. Fuck.
    “Five hundred retweets,” Max said severely. “Five hundred ,
Owen! What were you thinking?”
    “I can’t help it if some creeper took a photo of
me,” I said petulantly.
    “You were in a gay bar! In makeup!”
    I tossed my head. “It’s a bit of eyeliner, that’s
all. And five hundred retweets is nothing.”
    “It only needs one for the papers to see it.”
    “Like they give a damn,” I said with a roll of my
eyes. “I’m not some reality TV wannabe with my tits out”—well, okay, I pretty
much did have my tits out, but that was irrelevant—“I’m an author.
Authors are boring. It wouldn’t make the tabloids on a slow day.”
    “That’s not the point .”
    “Well, what is?” I demanded. “Seriously, Max. I
can’t help it if there are creeps and weirdoes in the world.”
    “You could try not giving them ammunition. What if
somebody from Squire sees this? What if they decide it’s too much of a risk to
their reputation to print your books?”
    “Then fuck them,” I said.
    “You can’t afford to fuck them,” Max replied
darkly. “If we lose this contract, Owen—”
    “I know, I know!” I held my head in my hands. “I
fucked up, okay? I’m sorry.”
    “Sorry isn’t good enough. They just announced the Carnegie shortlist. You think because it didn’t make the tabloids,
people haven’t noticed? You couldn’t have chosen any other week to act out?”
    “I wasn’t acting out ,” I hissed. “I was
being myself, with somebody who actually likes me for who I am.”
    “Very touching, I’m sure.” Max narrowed his eyes. “I
thought we’d already discussed this?”
    “We went for one drink !”
    “One drink too many. In a bloody gay bar, Owen! Why
not take out an ad in the TLS ? ‘Owen Black sucks cock.’”
    “Don’t be crude.” I returned his glare with
interest. “What I do, and who I do it with, is nobody’s business but mine.”
    “You made it their business when you signed your
publishing contract. You’re not your own person any more, Owen. You’re a
product, the same as your books.”
    “I didn’t sign up for that!”
    “Yes, you did.” Max sighed and sat back in his
chair. “I hate this social media bullshit as much as you do. It makes all our
lives more difficult. But you know there are people out there who think
nothing of taking a picture and putting it online, and the minute it’s posted,
you can’t ever get rid of it. That’s why we agreed there would be no
opportunity for pictures to begin with.”
    “So I just put my life on hold indefinitely, do I?”
    “If you want to sell books, yes . ”
    I huffed. “It’s not fair.”
    “Life isn’t fair.” Max softened his tone. “Do you
want to go back to how it was before? Pouring your heart and soul into books
nobody would touch? Working as a waiter to make ends meet? Squire is paying you
more money than you ever dreamed of, and the trade-off is you don’t do anything
to make yourself less commercially viable. You think they won’t hesitate to
pull the plug if sales dry up?”
    “They’re buying my books, Max, not me.”
    “We are this close to breaking America,
Owen, and we need that market. We’re counting on it. If you think there
aren’t conservative parents who’ll refuse to buy the books if they even suspect
you’re queer, you’re an idiot.”
    “Parents like that probably won’t buy them anyway,”
I protested. “There will always be people who complain about something.”
    Max shook his head. “We can’t afford for there to
be. If people don’t like the books, fine. They’ll be in a minority. But all
this gay marriage stuff has people riled up enough as it is. You need to be
bland, boring Owen who writes stories kids and their parents love. No
controversy. I’d say the same thing if you were photographed falling out of
Spearmint Rhino with a stripper on your arm.”
    “It’s not the