Page 72 of Mid-Thirties Slightly Hot Mess Female Seeking Billionaire

"You're just saying that." She stares at me for a couple of seconds.

"I'm not just saying it. You've got a nice tone."

"Thank you." She is silent for a couple of seconds. "So what do we do next?"

"We call Lord Chambers," I say, "And ask him what he thinks, and if there's anything he wants to change."

"Oh, okay. He gets a say in that?"

"Not really,” I say, shaking my head. "But we make him think he has a say."

"Oh," she wrinkles her nose. "I guess that works."

"Trust me," I say. "Even if he says he wants to change some stuff, he won't."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, this is how the conversation will go. I'll say, "Hey, this is the jingle. What do you think?" He'll say, "Oh, it's amazing. There are just a couple of things I'd like to change. Then I'll say, "Oh, what you want to change? And he'll say, "Can I get back to you in a couple of days?”

She giggles.

"And I'll say, "Sure, take your time." And then I won't hear from him for a couple of days. And I'll be like, "Hey, do you have those revisions you wanted me to make?"

And he'll say, "Actually, I think it's pretty good."

"And I'll say, "Great."

"You don't know that's how it's going to go." She says, staring at me.

"I don't know that it's going to go exactly like that, but 95% of the time it goes like this. He's not a songwriter. He's not a musician. Any ideas that he has or thinks he has won't make sense once he thinks them through. This jingle sounds pretty damn good." I laugh. "Or are we calling it a jangle now?"

"We can call it whatever you want." She says, shaking her head. "I'm just glad that you like it."

"Did you think I wouldn't?"

"I don't know." She says. "I mean, things between us are..."

"Things are what?" I prod her to continue.

"I don't know. I'm just saying that I wasn't sure if you'd like it or not."

"I think it's great. I think you're an amazing songwriter. I mean, you've got a great voice. I just wouldn't dance so much, seeing as you're so clumsy."

"I'm not clumsy." She glares at me. "Trust me."

"I'm saying, it seems like you're kind of clumsy to me."

"I'm not."

"I'm just saying that it's a good thing that you're not a stripper trying to get up and down that pole. Because…” I pause and laugh at the look on her face.

"Excuse you. If I wanted to be a stripper, I could be." She says, glaring at me. "In fact, I could be the best stripper in all of the United States if I wanted to be."

"I don't think so,” I say, laughing.

"I could be. I could work a pole. I've got rhythm, I've got moves." She says. "Just because you don't think I do, Ethan Rosser, doesn't mean I don't."

"Put your money where your mouth is,” I say.

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