Boss, Your Ex-Wife is Unreachable Now! novel Chapter 17

"If I'm not mistaken, you used to be interested in getting together with Rosa yourself."

Beasley didn't deny it. There was a time he'd thought Rosamund would make a fine Mrs. Windsor. She had the right upbringing, good manners, and sharp intellect—a perfect fit by any standard.

But ever since college, after he realized York's feelings for Rosamund, he'd put the idea out of his mind.

"In any case, I'm married now. That's not going to change. There's no possibility of anything between me and Rosamund." That was the answer Beasley finally gave.

"If Rosa heard you say that, she'd be heartbroken. You really are a cold-blooded man," York said, shaking his head with an exaggerated sigh—half-joking, half-serious.

Beasley didn't so much as twitch at the accusation. He just responded coolly, "You mentioned wanting to invest in film. I have a suggestion, if you're interested."

"Of course I want to hear it!" York replied immediately. He'd always been keen on Beasley's advice.

Beasley continued, "There's a real gap in the domestic market for science fiction thrillers. Might be a good niche for you to consider."

"Science fiction thrillers?" York's eyes lit up. "Do you have any good scripts or writers in mind?"

He genuinely liked the idea. He'd loved sci-fi movies as a kid, but back then, most of the good ones were Hollywood blockbusters. Homegrown sci-fi films were few and far between, and the rare ones that did exist were usually pretty terrible. Hardly any real hits ever emerged.

If he could finance something that filled that void, it could be both lucrative and prestigious.

Beasley was ready with a recommendation. "There's a sci-fi novelist who goes by ‘STAR.' Several of STAR's books would adapt well for the big screen."

"STAR? Are they a man or a woman?" York asked instinctively, then started to analyze. "The pen name sounds like something a woman would choose, but sci-fi's usually a guy thing, isn't it? At least, most sci-fi writers I know are men."

Beasley didn't agree. "If this genre really was only for men, those books wouldn't have become runaway bestsellers—especially in a market where sci-fi is still pretty niche."

"Runaway bestsellers?" York heard the approval in his tone and grew even more curious. "How many copies did they sell?"

Beasley picked up his glass, swirling the whiskey in a relaxed, almost elegant manner. "So far, five books have been published. The first four each sold over a million copies—and two of them topped twenty million."

Beasley, as if reading York's mind, spoke again in his usual unhurried tone. "A while back, Evelyn said she wanted to get into filmmaking and begged me to find her a good script. I bought those rights with her in mind."

That made York pause. "Oh, right—Eve studied film at university. She's graduated by now, hasn't she?"

A rare hint of resignation flickered across Beasley's otherwise unreadable face. He corrected, "She's been ‘almost unemployed' for a year now. Hasn't found anything she's truly happy with."

It sounded like teasing, but really, it was more indulgence than criticism.

York knew that in the Windsor family, it was just him and Evelyn as cousins. Old Mr. Jameson Windsor and Old Mrs. Laverne Windsor absolutely doted on Evelyn, and even Beasley's own parents had always treated her with special affection—until that girl Willow appeared.

Willow had stolen away much of Mr. and Mrs. Windsor's attention, as if the family had suddenly gained a foster daughter. No wonder Evelyn had never warmed to her.

If it came down to cunning or subtlety, a pampered heiress like Evelyn was no match for someone like Willow.