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“Access,” she says, immediately. “Honesty. Trust.”
“Right. Then it’s not going to work,” I announce. “You need access, I need privacy. Those are fundamentally incompatible goals.”
That pisses her off. But she tries to hide it. “Look, if you tell me something and regret it, we can always edit that part out of the book. But if you’re keeping me at arm’s length the whole time, the book will be boring.”
“Boring is fine,” I deadpan. “We’re going for respectable, remember?”
“I’m not going to write aboringbook,” Hazel says, indignant.
“I’m not going to have you invading my privacy,” I counter.
“Oh, look! Here’s the food,” Sarah interrupts, sounding desperate.
Sarah and I dig into our food.
Hazel surveys her French onion soup hesitantly.
If it was anyone else, I’d let her be, but it’s Hazel, and something wicked eggs me on. “Is something wrong with your food?” I ask innocently.
Her eyes flash, and something inside me heats in response. It’s always been fun messing with her.
You mess with her because you can’t flirt with her, a judgmental voice that sounds like my father’s says. I ignore it.
“I’m just waiting for it to cool,” Hazel says primly. “Wouldn’t want to burn my tongue.”
“Of course,” I agree. “I can think of much better uses for your tongue.”
She blushes, and too late I realize that sounded way dirtier than I meant it to.
And now I’m thinking things I shouldn’t.
I shift uncomfortably, trying to marshal my thoughts before they have any more of a physical effect. “Let’s cut to the chase. We both know this won’t work. You’re a talented writer, but we’ve got opposing requirements for this project. And we’ve got a preexisting relationship that is...not professional.”
I watch a storm of conflicting emotions flicker across her face. She doesn’t want to work with me any more than I want to work with her. But she doesn’t like that I’m the one to say it.
Tough shit, babe, I think. I don’t have time to sit around babying her feelings.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Sarah says. “You two are ridiculous.” She points at me. “This book isn’t going to do shit for your reputation if it’s so boring no one reads it. You need a good writer, and Hazel’s the best. Plus, you don’t have time to find anyone else.”
Then she rounds on Hazel. “You need the money, and you need the recognition this job will bring.”
Sarah’s phone starts buzzing. She glances down at it. “I need to take this. It’s a client of mine who actuallywantsprofessional success.” She excuses herself and heads outside to take the call.
Leaving me alone with Hazel.
3
LUKE
The silence grows.
Hazel pokes at her soup.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I signal the waiter. “She wants macaroni and cheese.”
“I do not—”
But the waiter has already disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.
