Page 17 of All the Right Words
Gina looked like she might not answer. But then she shrugged and said, ‘I guess I might send someone in to help loosen her up.’
‘An editor?’
Gina shook her head. ‘No, actually. I think that might make things worse. Brenda likes autonomy, right?’
Harper nodded. ‘Right.’
‘So, I guess I might send her anassistant—someone to take notes, run through things. But ultimately, someone whowouldn’tthreaten her sense that no one is interfering. It’s just a person to talk her ideas over with. Get her thinking again.’
Harper considered. ‘That’s not a bad idea.’ A lightbulb pinged. ‘You know what might be even better? An assistant who is secretly a novelist. Someone who is giving her more help than she realises.’
Gina nodded. ‘Yes, I guess that would be good.’ Her eyes flashed with horror. ‘Hang on; I hope you don’t mean-’
Harper was delighted with the idea. ‘I honestly think it’s theperfectsolution.’
‘But I’m, I’m far too busy. Olivia…’
‘…Would let you do it. I know she would. Because right now, she wants Brenda to have whatever she needs to get to a first draft. I’m just talking about one little chat?’
Gina huffed. ‘You don’t even know if I’m a good writer,’ she said frankly. ‘I might drive her off onto the wrong track.’
‘That’s true. Can I find out?’ Harper asked philosophically.
Gina’s dark eyes flashed real anger. ‘What?!’
Harper fought her fear. There was a greater good at stake. She had an instinct she couldn’t ignore, even if Gina looked more pissed than usual. ‘I know you got out of it last time by having an adorable accident, but this time, I’m not taking no for an answer,’ Harper told her.
Gina ignored the slightly flirtatious comment. Harper was glad. She probably shouldn’t have said it anyway. She couldn’t think how it had even come out.
‘Look, we don’t even write in the same genre,’ Gina told her.
‘What was your genre?’ Harper asked, interested.
‘Science-fiction,’ Gina admitted.
‘And if you were a poet, we might have a problem, but sci-fi? Gina, someone who understands the structure of fiction can translate that skill to any genre.’
Gina looked ready to jump out of the window. She was well outside her comfort zone. Harper realised how carried away she’d gotten. ‘OK, OK, I’m sorry. I’m backing off. I still think it’s a good idea, but if you don’t want to do it, I won’t bang on.’
Gina looked relieved. ‘I just don’t think I’m the woman for this job.’
‘Let me check with Olivia. She might know of somebody,’ Harper assured her. ‘But this was a good idea,’ she assured Gina. Gina looked away. The woman didn’t like compliments.
Harper stood. ‘So, do you think, for now, I can give Brenda that extra month?’
‘I know the release schedule; I think that would be OK. Olivia built wiggle room in. But I’ll let her know what we discussed and get back to you with confirmation.’
‘Great,’ Harper said. She stood from the couch. Gina jumped up too. ‘I’ll get out of your hair, then.’ Gina nodded.
Harper left, hoping she could find someone like Gina, a top-notch assistant who also happened to be a secret writer. Even one who gave up. But part of the appeal was getting Gina’s book. Damn, she wanted to read that thing.
Eleven
Gina was pacing a hole in the carpet of her office. Because despite what she’d told Harper about being the wrong woman for the job, there was a part of her that wanted to do it. Brenda was a difficult woman. But she was also very good at her job. Gina would have liked to help her write her book in some small way. It would be the closest she’d ever get to writing again. It was an oddly attractive prospect.
Gina heard Olivia talking in the hall and went and sat down to affect nonchalance. Olivia came striding into her office a second later, looking a little exhausted and dishevelled. ‘Sorry I’m late; bloody cabs are fucking me lately. How did it go with Harper?’
‘Well, we had a chat. Turns out Brenda’s blocked.’
