Page 42 of Striking Heat
“You wouldn’t!” she squeals.
“No, you’re right, I wouldn’t. I won’t print anything that you tell me when we’re together like this. It has to be in an official interview for me to print it. And even then, you get to read it first,” I remind her. I hope it eases her fears, but there’s a funny look on her face right now, like she’s trying to smile but it’s not coming out naturally. She looks like she might not be at ease lying here with me anymore.
“I didn’t mean to remind you that I’m interviewing you. Sorry, that was insensitive of me.”
“No, I reminded you about it and you just added on. I’m sorry. I don’t know, it just feels weird that the team hired you to interview me and to help with press things or whatever and I slept with you.” She rolls over and stares up at the ceiling.
“If it helps, they’re not paying me.” I laugh as she looks over at me in shock. “What I thought you were implying was that it’s a bit like prostitution.”
“No, that’s not what I was implying, but thank you for cheapening it.”
“Sorry,” I say, smirking at her remark. I know it shouldn’t be, but it sounded a bit funny coming out of her mouth.
“What is this, though? What are we doing here?” she asks me.
I’m honestly kind of glad she’s lying so she can’t see my face right now, because I’m not sure.
“You’re so quiet over there. Did I really ask that hard of a question?” She rolls onto her side so that she can see my face.
“No, you didn’t. I’m just not sure how to answer that question. Typically, you don’t like me,” I remind her.
“But you’re not always a fan of me. Unless some handsome rich man is hitting on me. Then you have a lot of feelings toward me.”
“I hate that you had to add the handsome part. I could deal with the rich, but not the handsome.”
“Oh, that’s good to know.”
We’re both quiet for a while, though I’m not sure if we’re just that comfortable with each other or if neither one of us knows what to say.
“Is this going to happen again?” I ask.
She giggles. “Do you want it to?”
“I do,” I tell her a little too quickly. “If that’s alright with you.”
“I would like that. But we have to have some boundaries. You can’t tell anyone.” Mac’s staring at me now, so intently that I can’t tell if she’s worried because I’m writing the article or if it’s because she’s ashamed of me.
“What are you worried about?”
“How can it look like you’re writing an impartial article on me if we’re sleeping together? Doesn’t that compromise some kind of an oath that you had to take when you became a journalist or something?”
I grin. “I’m not a doctor. There was no oath. It’s just going to compromise my integrity if people find out that you and I slept together or are continuing to do so.”
She nods. “Oh, I didn’t realize that you had integrity. You know, after all those things you wrote about me.”
“Uh-huh,” I reply. “I didn’t think that article was that bad.”
She gets out of bed and begins picking up her clothes.
“Did I say something wrong?” I ask about the abrupt change in her position.
“No, not really. I mean, the article wasn’t the greatest thing that ever happened to me. You made me cry. But it’s gotta be after nine now, and I have somewhere to be at eleven, so I better get going. I need a shower and all.”
“I made you cry?” I spring out of bed and head over to her. “Wait a minute. We have to talk about this.”
She snickers. “No, we don’t. You were mean and it upset me, but I’m a big girl.”
Mac has her bra and T-shirt back on and is looking for her shorts.
