“Nora? My eyes are up here.”
I flinched. John’s demanding voice bounced off the walls of the tiny bathroom.
“Because I am…just…not…how…” My brain short-circuited. What were words, even? “I thought everyone was downstairs already.” I parroted his own excuse, hoping it passed as a full sentence.
John’s left eyebrow arched. “And you’re still here because…?”
“Because I needed this,” I said, grabbing the first item I could reach.
“Hemorrhoid cream?” His other brow joined the first, and he turned fully toward me. I focused all my energy on keeping my gaze above the neck. Ok, above the chest. Damn.
Then his words registered. I straightened up. “Yes. You have a problem with hemorrhoids?”
He casually rubbed moisturizer onto his stomach, which felt like a personal attack.
“No, but it seems you do.”
I grunted, spun on my heel, and shut the door with more force than necessary.
The shower I took in the adjacent bathroom was ice-cold.
Chapter Twelve
The Kardashians are forming a rock band.
Scars can be greatly improved by ink.
I am… having fun. Weird.
After the group discussion—which I successfully attended and avoided any sort of eye contact with anyone named John—Charlene took us one by one to the side for a chat. This was to be our final conversation before we’d send in the proposal and the blurb. Before social media and a bunch of industry professionals decided which one of us would make it further.
I was the last one to follow her upstairs.
My hand shot out to hide a pair of used underwear behind the bed. I should’ve really tidied up before the talk, but as I casually sat across from her now, I was determined to look confident and not let any of my nerves shine through.
The new synopsis and updated chapters lay before her. Now and then, she nodded, her curls bobbing with the movement. Maybe she liked it? Was that surprise? Her brow lifted. Thenshe just… mmmd. What did that mean? By the time she finally closed my laptop, my nails were bitten to the base.
I straightened, releasing the twisted sheets in my hands. “So?”
Charlene placed her glasses on the desk. Then a smile broke. “I like it. I mean, it’s not polished, of course, and I’m curious how you’ll wrap it all up, but… it’s a significant improvement.”
A whoosh of breath fled my lungs.
Her smile widened. “It’s different from your competitors. In a good way. A totally different angle to the story. I have to say, I’m impressed.”
“Thank you?—”
“But I’m also surprised, Nora.”
I clamped my mouth shut.
“You didn’t strike me as the most…” She pursed her lips, looking out the window. “Reliable.”
My heart sank. “I’m so sorry if you got that impression of me.”
She waved my apology away. “I know this is a hard competition, and we ask a lot of you in little time. And I know you’re good. I mean,” she nodded at my laptop, “there’s proof that you’re truly talented. And you understand Lew a lot deeper than some of the others. But—” She leaned forward, like a mom telling her child why they couldn’t go to a birthday party. “We need more than just a talented writer. This series is an institution with millions of fans. I need the author to be 100% committed. And” —she held up a hand before I could tell her I’d get Lew Elliott’s face tattooed on mine if it meant I would get the job—“I need them to be a team player. I’ve seen little effort from your side to join our meetings or mingle with the others. Teamwork is an essential part of this deal.”
My shoulders slumped.
