Page 17 of Slow Burn Summer

“I’ll take your word for it,” he said, still smirking.

She held his gaze, feeling the need to regain ground. “Just so you know, you can take my word when I say I won’t let everyone down. It might seem like I sometimes use a hundred words when ten would do, but when the time comes for me to step up and play my part, I won’t fluff my lines.”

He didn’t make a smart reply or glance away. “And just soyouknow, I won’t let you down either.”

Did he know she’d heard the L.A. rumors? Liv told her he’d pretty much been run out of town, that his ex-wife’s family were industry movers and shakers, his script-writing career dead in the water.

“I’ll get these,” she said, picking up their empty cups to pay, needing some space.

“No need, already done,” he said.

It was a simple enough gesture, but somehow it sat badly with her.

She put the mugs on the counter and offered to pay for the biscuits, but the guy waved her away, making an exaggerated heart sign with his hands as if they were in a silent movie. Thrown, she made one back, and found Charlie shaking his head in despair when she looked over her shoulder. Shrugging, she walked out into the now thankfully dry afternoon.

9

Unlike Fiona, Charlie had thedecency to knock on his business partner’s door before entering. The look she gave him was pure theater, perfected over the years to win deals and terrify the opposition.

“Charlie,” she said, lowering her glasses on their golden chain.

“Fi, I realize this deal is an unusual setup, but to be clear, I’m Kate’s agent, not you.”

“We’ve been over this. I represent the author, you represent the actor,” she said in the same tone she’d used when he was fourteen years old and hanging around his dad’s office. “The book doing well is a win for both of us.”

“I know that, but it wasn’t fair of you to withhold the information about the overseas deals. You really dropped Kate in the deep end there, and me by default.”

“Intentionally so,” Fiona said, unruffled. “We needed to see if she cracked under pressure.”

“Would you have pulled a stunt like that with my father?”

Fi opened her mouth and closed it again.

“Because I’m never going to be him.”

“You can say that again,” she shot back.

He sighed. “If this thing is ever going to work long term, we have to be transparent and able to trust each other.”

“You’ve spent too much time in therapy.” She rolled her eyes. “Transparent.”

“And you’ve spent too much time sitting up here in your ivory tower, not giving a damn how you treat the people around you,” he said, because she knew enough about what had happened in L.A. to not be so judgmental.

They eyeballed each other across the expanse of her desk.

It was on the tip of Charlie’s tongue to apologize. It wasn’t his way to be so direct with Fiona, but the words stilled in his throat. Something in her shifting expression almost resembled respect.

“Close the door on your way out,” she said, perching her glasses back on her nose.

He contemplated leaving it ajar, but he’d done and said enough, and he wasn’t fourteen anymore. He’d lost his mother when he was barely old enough to remember her, just abstract catches of perfume and the warmth of her hug. Fiona had never tried to step into her shoes, but as the only constant female in Jojo’s life, she’d always been there on the peripheries. Over the years his father had mostly referred to her as “that bloody woman,” but their business partnership had been long and fruitful. The jury was out on how things were going to work between Charlie and Fi, but one thing was for sure: it would never be easy.

10

“What’s your favorite snack whilewriting?” Liv picked a random question from Kate’s list.

“Er, cheese?” Kate said, working her way through a huge bowl of pavlova.

Nish wrinkled his nose. “Too sweaty.”

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