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“This is awful,” he said finally.
Hayley ignored his whining, which was probably for the best. One of them had to be an adult. She stuck a note to the wall, markedone bed?. “And yet you’re still here.”
He sank farther into the cheap office chair. “Not by choice.”
She arched one perfectly curved brow. “I don’t buy that for a second.Again, With Feelingwas a critical darling. If you truly didn’t want to be here, you wouldn’t be.”
Pride swamped him, mixed with surprise. His name hadn’t been attached to that film. Not publicly, anyway.
He was the third screenwriter they’d brought in. He’d torn the original to pieces and built it back up until it barely resembled the garbage fire it had started as. But the studio had needed a vehicle for their favorite director, and after a few lines were altered, the screenwriting credit had gone to him. Whatever. Harrison was onlymostlybitter about it. “How did you know it was mine?”
“The scene by the river, where she’s talking to her father. She says, ‘I wish you’d known how to love me. I never learned how.’ There’s something quietly poignant about your stories. The main character is always searching for something. Resolution. Retribution. What happens when they find it?”
“That’s usually called the end.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Sounds very similar to a happily ever after.”
He’d known that was coming, even as the words left his mouth.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“A little. You’re cute when you admit I’m right.”
Against his better judgment, he laughed. “You’ll have to wait a little longer to hear that.”
“Look. We have a week to deliver this. How long do you plan on sulking?”
He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Seven days should do it.”
She raised her gaze to the ceiling, lips pursed. No doubt cursing him.
“If you’re sincerely dedicated to being as unhelpful as possible, why don’t you sit quietly while I work?”
Nowthatthey could agree on.
* * *
Harrison was about to beat level 7573 when an elegant hand firmly placed a twenty-dollar bill in front of him. Five perfectly manicured nails tapped the table, short and clear, and he held back a smile while he made Hayley wait, finishing his level before slipping one earbud out and turning to her.
“Can I help you?”
The tapping stopped. Her eyes glittered, even under the horrendous fluorescents. They were captivating at any distance but were especially dangerous to Harrison’s control up close.
“There’s a coffee shop on the corner. I’d like an Earl Grey. A splash of milk, no sugar.”
“You want to pay six dollars for hot water and a tea bag?”
“With a dash of milk.”
He was halfway to the door when she added, “Oh, and maybe you can buy yourself a sunny disposition while you’re out.”
“Sorry, last time I checked, they were sold out.”
Her eye roll was the last thing he saw as he stepped into the hall.
6 INT COFFEE SHOP — DAY
Harrison waits in line. The coffee shop is crowded with young, attractive people, every available surface covered in Valentine’s Day paraphernalia.
