Page 46 of Between the Lines

“You don’t like games, then. But how about a deal?” I ask.

She crosses her arms over her chest. “What kind of deal?”

“You want me to answer all of your questions,” I say. “Then, you’ll have to respond to the same ones.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

“For every answer I give, you give me one, too. It’s only fair that I get to know you just as thoroughly as you’ll be getting to know me.”

“You can’t be serious. I’m not the one who is being written about, and I bet you’re not even interested.”

I lean closer. “Is that a bet you’rereallywilling to make?”

Her teeth dig into her lower lip for a second. “Why?”

“Why not?” I ask. “Maybe I don’t want to be the only one baring my life to scrutiny.”

She shakes her head slowly, a humorless smile on her lips. “Right. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth?”

“That’s right.”

“I think I’m willing to go deep,” she says, her voice holding a warning. “This memoir is important to my career.”

“There’s one caveat, of course.”

Her eyes narrow. “Of course there is. What?”

“I get final approval before you deliver the first draft to the Board.”

“You’ll ax everything I’ll write.”

“No. I promise to be fair. Convince me that you can write this and do it justice. Make mewantto expose all the personal stuff and send it to my Board and publication.”

I see it in her eyes. A spark of defiance, hidden amid the frustration. From the start, she’s seemed like a woman who likes to be challenged. Who likes people with a bit of a bite.

“I have a counter caveat,” she says.

The voices out in the lobby are growing louder. “Tell me.”

“If you don’t approve the memoir, you’ll need to explain it to my editor. I want it noted why you’re not satisfied, and foryouto directly admit that it’s too personal.”

She’s hedging her bets. A grin flashes across my lips, there and gone again. “Clever.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I would never.” It’s the honest truth. I hold out my hand. “Do we have a deal, Charlotte Gray?”

Her eyes meet mine with obvious vehemence. But then she slips her slim hand in mine, her skin warm.

We shake once.

“We have a deal,” she says. “And I’ll hold you to it, Hartman.”

My lips curve, and it’s not entirely with joy. “I’m counting on it. Oh, and one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You want more access?” I lean in closer. “You’ll move into my guest room.”

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