Page 113 of The Rom-Commers

But as soon as he said that, we both knew who my next suggestion would be.

“That settles it, then,” I said.

“Settles what?” Charlie asked. “How?”

“Me,” I said, without even stopping to think.

“You?” Charlie asked.

“I’m another writer.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“You just said nobody would understand this except for another writer. And I think you already know this, but, just in case”—I pointed at myself—“Iam another writer.”

If I’d paused to think it through for any length of time, I would never—never—have suggested it. But I was caught up in the momentum. We’d been arguing all afternoon. He’d been pooh-poohing kissing, and me, andlove itselfall day. I wanted to get past this. I wanted to shake him out of that stubborn head of his. My kissing-for-research idea was a good one—though I could also see how, for anyone else in the world, it might seem a bit bananas.

In truth, Iwaskind of the ideal person for this job. I did a ton of research. I understood how important it was. Plus, this circumvented the whole creepily-propositioning-a-random-woman issue.Iwas propositioninghim.

This was the perfect answer.

If the last person Charlie had kissed was the wife who’d left him when he got cancer, maybe he needed something—anything—else to replace that last association. I was no pinup dream girl, fine. But I had to be better than cancer.

I would’ve told him to go find a girlfriend—but we didn’t have time for that.

I could do in a pinch.

“This is a great idea,” I said to Charlie.

“Absolutely not.”

“This is the breakthrough you need.”

“I don’t need a breakthrough.”

“Yes, you do.”

Charlie was backing up now. “Emma, this is nuts. We work together.”

“Exactly,” I said. “That’s why it’s perfect.”

“This doesn’t—” Charlie said, shaking his head. “This isn’t—”

“I can do this. I took two weeks of scuba-diving lessons to write my mermaid screenplay with a very handsy instructor named Karl. Five minutes of kissing is nothing.”

“Five minutesofkissing?” Charlie said, like I’d just proposed we run a marathon.

“The point is, you’re right.”

“I’m right?”

“I really am the best person for this job. And I’m fine with it. So let’s go.”

But Charlie was shaking his head with a franticno way in hellvibe.

“It’s not a big deal,” I said.

“We can’t,” Charlie said.

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