Page 41 of Slow Burn Summer

“Drink?”

“Please,” she said, glad of the chance to give herself a mental slap.

She watched him cross the room, noticing the way people’s eyes followed him, the subtle movement of his shoulders beneath his shirt as he leaned forward to speak to the woman behind the bar. Was it unwise to meet him tonight? He was Charlie Francisco, her agent, but he was also someone she was coming to rely on. She knew the rumors about the end of his marriage and what sort of man he might be in his private life, and she wasn’t in the romance market after the shocking end of her own relationship, but if she spoke purely as she found, Charlie was damn good company and he had never let her down. Not to mention he looked like he could have starred in Hollywood rom-coms rather than written them. If he’d written them at all, that was. Throw in a moodily lit bar, a hotel room upstairs, and a large glass of wine to steady her nerves, and she really needed to be careful what left her mouth and what stayed inside her head.

“Have you eaten?” he asked, placing the chilled glass of white in front of her as he sat down.

“Room service,” she said. “Living the high life. It was good of them to book such a nice place, I expected a budget hotel or something.”

“You’re helping them make a lot of money, Kate, a good night’s rest isn’t exactly a luxury.”

“So I don’t balls things up again?”

“You didn’t balls things up with Glynn, and you won’t balls up tomorrow.” He sipped his drink, something short on the rocks again. “Rachel called earlier,” he said. “She wondered if they’d be able to track down your crush from the train.”

“Oh God,” she said. “Charlie, I—”

“It’s fine,” he said. “They’ll always try to maximize on any angle that presents itself. The story is already out there doing its thing so don’t feel obliged to hand over names and numbers.”

Kate swallowed a cooling mouthful of wine, completely split over whether to come clean. She’d really just prefer it if no one ever mentioned it again. “I don’t really want to…you know, go down that road if we can avoid it,” she said in the end, feeling lame.

“We can avoid it,” he said. “I’m sure neither of you want to be paraded on TV before you even decide whether to go for that coffee.”

“I wanted to ask you something,” she said, changing the subject. “Earlier, in the meeting, you said something about the author being pleased with how things are going.”

He watched her steadily over his glass. “What I actually said is that he thinks you’re pretty damn special.”

She nodded, thrown because Charlie had inadvertently referred to the author as “he” rather than “they.” So she and Liv had been right with their hunch it was a guy.

“Was it true, or were you trying to bolster my confidence? It’s fine if you were.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” he said. “You remind them of someone who isn’t in their life anymore.”

“I do?” She frowned, surprised by the detail. “How so?”

He sighed into his glass. “Things you’ve said on email and on the radio, I expect.” He shrugged a shoulder. “You’re the right person for the job, Kate, and tomorrow will be no exception. They might press you about your guy-on-the-train encounter, but only say as much as you want to and steer the conversation back toward the book.”

Kate didn’t miss the way he’d subtly steered the conversation away from the author and back to the book either, and admired his skill. She listened as he ran over some basics about the day, timings and pitfalls to watch for. The bartender wandered across to offer them a refill; she hesitated and then accepted, and he checked the time, then did the same.

“Can we not talk about tomorrow anymore?” she said. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

Her knee brushed his as she reached for her glass. “You reminded me of your father earlier,” she said. “In the meeting. Jojo had a way of making me feel I could do anything I wanted to. You did that same thing today.”

Charlie’s half smile lacked his usual confidence. “I hope so. It’s a lot to live up to. Today was a moment for me too—I thought you were going to walk out of there, but I should have known better.”

“Not really. I seriously thought about it.”

He drank a mouthful of his drink. “My father was fond of you, from looking at his notes in your file.”

Jojo blustered straight through Kate’s head, always in a crumpled linen jacket and one of his florid collection of bow ties.

“I was fond of him too,” she said. “Telling him I was leaving was worse than telling my own father.” She remembered walking up the stairs to deliver the news, full of dread. “He told me tocommute to Germany, that I was barely out of nappies let alone old enough to get married, and that if any child of his tried to pull a stunt like that he’d lock them up till they saw sense.” She laughed softly. “I guess he must have been talking about you.”

Charlie huffed under his breath. “I wouldn’t have put it past him. He was the best father in the world in most ways, but God, could he be stubborn. I’m surprised he didn’t handcuff you to his desk.” He swirled his drink in his glass. “He wrote that you were a rising star, and that you’d come back one day.”

“Oh my God, that breaks my heart,” she said. “He was right about me coming back and he never got the joy ofI told you so.”

“At least Fiona is there to see it,” Charlie said.

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