Page 11 of Slow Burn Summer

Ouch.“Old enough to realize Kate was totally right to let Leo float away from that door, if that’s what you mean,” she said, snarkily.

The corner of his mouth twitched as he refilled their glasses. “Knowing when to let go is no bad thing.”

“Sometimes you have no choice.” Kate reached for her glass, because the conversation felt something like picking her way over an active minefield. “Do you have any siblings?” she asked, wading toward safer ground. She hoped he did for his sake, because she could imagine that being Jojo’s child must have been quite an intense experience.

Charlie shook his head. “Just me.”

Kate flinched; she didn’t want to think of a life without Liv.

“I lean on my sister more than I should, probably,” she said, touching the silver bangles around her wrist. “I honestly don’t know how I’d have gotten through the breakup of my marriage without her.”

Charlie sighed, his dark eyes melancholy. “Alcohol and bad decisions, if you’re anything like me, which I’m sure you’re not.”

The starkness of his unexpected reply caught her off guard. “Experience in the divorce trenches?”

Charlie made a sound somewhere between a cynical laugh and a groan. “The trenches sounds about right. One too many skirmishes. No winners in that particular war.”

Liv’s gossip-hungry L.A. contacts had Charlie down as awalking red flag, enough to keep her guard up around him. Not enough to make her walk away from the job opportunity, though—she was getting into business with him, not into bed.

“Except the lawyers,” she said. Her credit card would probably never recover from the shock.

They fell silent, both aware they’d strayed from professional to personal.

“Anyway,” Charlie said, clearing his throat and the heavy mood, “I have a draft offer for you to look over.” He slid a slim document from the black leather folder on the table beside him. “We’ve been back and forth with the publisher a fair few times because of the slightly unusual arrangement. They suggested a flat fee given the unknowns involved, but we’ve pushed back for a signing fee plus traditional royalty percentage. Lower than the usual percentage, of course, as the author themself needs to get paid, but enough to give you some skin in the game if it sells well.”

In truth, the details went over Kate’s head, and she wasn’t sure if she should read the offer right there at the table or wait until she was alone on the train home. Curiosity won out and she flipped the front sheet, skimming the numbers.

“The signing fee is relatively modest,” Charlie said, watching her face. “But given the quality of the book and a decent marketing plan, I’m confident the percentage cut will work in your favor.”

Kate nodded, running her fingertip over the paperwork. The signing fee wasn’t especially modest given her current financially precarious position; it offered her a much-needed level of security to cover her bills and life expenses for the next six months or so, if she was cautious.

“Have you got a pen?” she said.

“You don’t need to sign it right away,” he said. “Take it home, look it over.”

“Is there anything in there designed to catch me out?”

“Kate, it’s my job to make sure no one tries to catch you out.”

“Then I guess we need to trust each other,” she said. “Pen?”

He passed his hand over his face, scrubbing his eyes. “Can I say something before you sign it?”

She took the pen he held out, then sat back a little in her chair, waiting.

“You already know that being a talent agent was never my life plan. Things had gone very badly for me over the last couple of years. Working with my father was the backup plan I didn’t see coming. And then he died and, cards on the table, a lot of his clients either left the agency or were poached. My list is pretty small right now—a couple of big names who stayed out of loyalty because the work comes to them, and a handful of lesser-known faces. And now you, if you sign this contract. You’re not signing up with Jojo Francisco, and all of the associated razzamatazz that went along with his name. You’re signing with me, Charlie, the guy left holding the reins.”

Kate nodded slowly. “Well, now I’ve heard your soliloquy too, so we’re even.” Clicking the pen, she flipped to the back page of the contract and signed it with a flourish. “There, all done,” she said. “So what happens next?”

Charlie slid the contract back into his file. “Now the fun starts.”

He held her gaze, then cleared his throat and signaled for the bill.

—

Charlie watched her pick herway through the tables, auburn curls bouncing, not noticing the heads turned in her direction or the second glances over shoulders.

We need to trust each other.She couldn’t know how impactful her words had been.

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