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“It would be a good idea, if he had a job. Instead, he lives at home and wants to make video games.” Hazel wiped her mouth and shrugged. “And even that would be okay, if he could ever finish one. It’s easier than ever to get your own indie stuff out there. He could do it if he ever had the motivation.”

Ian nodded slowly and watched her face. She seemed disappointed, and a bit frustrated.

“I can’t say that I have similar experiences,” Ian said. “I’m an only child.”

“Not a thing in my family.” Hazel chuckled. “Even my mom has a twin sister.”

“I was always jealous of other children who had siblings, of course. But I was able to spend more time with my father. He and I were close. He brought me along to his business quite often.”

Hazel set her plate down. “Is that how you got your start?”

“Absolutely. I talk about it in my first memoir Little Man, Big Deal. He gave me a small loan when we sold the old business, which started out as a transactional holdings company…” Ian trailed off. “You don’t care about any of this, do you?”

“It’s not that I don’t care.” Hazel bit her lower lip. “I read it, actually. I have Kindle Unlimited and looked at it over the weekend.”

“You read it in a weekend?” Ian narrowed his eyes.

“I read fast. I also read the two business books of yours available at Barns and Noble while drinking a latte on Sunday.” Hazel shrugged. “They weren’t difficult reads, though, so it’s not as impressive as it sounds.”

Ian frowned. “I’m not sure how I should feel about that.”

“I dunno. I guess you should feel glad? It means your ghostwriter is making everything very clear. I don’t think they have the amount of complexity and detail you can give face-to-face, but if they did, I doubt they’d be bestsellers.” Hazel crossed her legs toward Ian. “That’s the struggle real academics face, anyway. They can make things so much more nuanced, but then it’s harder to read, and people won’t slow down to get the point. Unless they’re academics, too, which substantially narrows your reach as an author.”

“I was prepared to be offended when you said I wasn’t a real academic, but I think you do have a good point. We always sell well, but they don’t always gain the critical reception that we hope for. Let me get my tablet, and we’ll go over the basics of this book project.” Ian rose and fetched both his and her tablets. “It’s a good thing you read fast.”

“I’m not sure my course load would be feasible if I didn’t.” Hazel took her tablet from him and began swiping rapidly.

Ian watched her for a moment before bringing up the early planning documents for the upcoming book. When he’d offered her the co-authorship, he hadn’t counted on her having a critical perspective on how he might improve his books. She was more than he’d bargained for, and he was loving it.

***

Hazel walked out of the Cartwright & Benton building with her head full. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but what she’d gotten was a morning so packed with information that she was going to have to take some time to decompress. Unfortunately, she had to get to her second job at the grocery store in fifteen minutes.

She unpinned her hair at the lights so she could pull it into a standard ponytail. It wasn’t good to be too dressed up at the store. They had a few regulars (usually men older than Dr. Cartwright) who took any form of politeness as a come-on, and she didn’t want to encourage their weirdness any further.

While Hazel restocked produce, she ran over the areas she would need to research in her head. Since she would be on campus tomorrow, she could spend her time at the library getting started. Students sometimes came by her desk for directions, but they didn’t usually need that much help—since a lot of students just looked for sources through the online databases these days. To be honest, she loved searching for sources. It was the beginning of every project for school and every self-improvement effort she came up with on her own. The spirit of finding things out had always driven Hazel. When she was a kid, she’d take home school library projects so she could go to the real library and write a better report.

But one couldn’t just research for a living. Hazel wasn’t good enough at the sciences to really make a difference there, and sitting around in a library didn’t pay the bills or change the world. She got so overwhelmed sometimes, but she had to remain focused.

By the time she got off around 10:00 pm, Hazel felt both exhausted and wired. With so much bouncing around in her head, and a full day of jobs, she knew she could fall right into bed and be asleep before she pulled up her blanket. Unfortunately, her Poli-Sci professor had emailed them a new reading that day. She climbed up to her apartment, fumbled with her keys, and dragged herself into the messy living room and fell onto the couch. She pulled out her tablet to open up the reading.

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