Page 26 of People Skills

‘I just need to get his scratching post from the car,’ Xavier says.

‘So we’re putting his scratching post and his toys and whatever else in the living room?’ I say.

Xavier looks guilty. ‘He has a little tree thing he likes to climb and—’ He pauses as he watches Rex jump up onto my bookshelf and start batting at an array of my knick-knacks.

‘And you might need to put a few things away so they don’t get broken.’

I fold my arms and stare at him and his menace of a cat. I do not want Rex here. I dread to think what he’ll do during the day if no one is around. But I can also recognise an opportunity when it is presented to me. This is my chance.

‘He can stay. On one condition,’ I say.

‘What’s that?’

‘You let me…’ I pause. How to phrase this? ‘You let me help you.’

He looks confused. ‘Help me what?’

‘Write your next book.’

He startles a little. Like an electric jolt.

‘How would you help me? Like be a co-author?’ he says, looking so scared I want to say, yes, write with me, share the credit with me, a nobody, an assistant, just to see how badly he will react. It’s probably the worst thing he can imagine.

I swallow down my urge to screw with him.

‘No, I mean help you get over your writer’s block,’ I say.

‘Is this something my mother has asked you to do?’ He looks deeply pained.

‘No. No. I just thought…’ I trail off. ‘I used to be an editor. And I thought I could help.’

‘You were an editor? A book editor?’ Now he’s surprised.

‘Yes. At Jones & Peterson.’

‘I had no idea. And now you’re…’

‘Working with Hillary. For better pay.’

‘Right.’ I can see the questions in his eyes. I have become more interesting to him, maybe. My current job is enviable to a subsection of people, and my previous job was also enviable to a subsection of people, and those two groups generally do not overlap. To the people who are interested in my work as an editor, what I’m doing now is a sad story, or at best an odd one. They need to know why. They want a reason, and it has to be a reason that makes sense to them. There are only six or so editorial positions at Jones & Peterson and a long line of editors willing to work there. To be given one of those slots, and then lose it, or leave it, that raises questions to people in the book industry. Better pay makes sense if I say it to someone who doesn’t work in books, but a book person would know I was never in it for the pay.

‘Anyway, I’ve worked with a lot of authors over the years, and I could help you. If you want it.’

‘Well, thank you, but I’m not writing, so there’s no editorial work to do.’

‘Well, that’s where I come in. I can help you start writing again.’

‘I don’t want to start writing again.’

His tone is firm. He holds my gaze.

‘I don’t believe you,’ I say.

‘That’s your choice. But I’m not writing.’ He’s trying to look calm, unruffled, but I can see it. I’ve got to him. Buttons have been pushed. This won’t work if I can’t get under his skin a little bit. Prise open all the doors and windows that are shut so tightly. I know all about repressing things. I’m an expert. And I have crowbars to force my way in.

‘Okay,’ I say. ‘No writing. But.’

‘But?’