Page 39 of All the Right Words
‘Joey, Joey, it’s going to be OK. I’m sending you help,’ Harper said over the phone to a panicked author who sincerely wanted to explain how much he sucked and could he pay back his advance and quit the whole thing? But Harper wasn’t having that. His last book had done unbelievable numbers in the crowded ‘Bad boy romance’ genre. And it wasn’t because of the oiled-up biker with gigantic pecs on the cover. Joey brought something fresh to the genre that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Whatever it was, it connected with the audience. His next book was hotly awaited. And late.
‘What help?’ Joey asked, practically atremble.
‘She’s a writer who talks to other writers.’ Strictly speaking, Gina had only spoken to one. Still, Harper felt the plural was an excusable lie if it gave Joey confidence in her abilities that Harper believed would be deserved.
Joey tutted. ‘If she’s just gonna gimme some talk about structure or characters, I don’t need-’
Harper stopped him in his tracks. ‘She’s not going to give you a talk. She’s just going to have a chat, help you work some stuff out.’ Joey went quiet, and Harper could hear his cynicism in the silence. ‘Look, if it doesn’t work out, we can talk about your contract. Just don’t give up until we’ve tried this, OK?’
Joey didn’t sound too enthused with his, ‘Alright,’ but that was fine. He had agreed. ‘But I wantyouto come,’ he bargained.
‘If that’s what you need, that’s what I’ll do. But can I ask why?’
‘It’s a new person. You know how I feel about that.’
‘Oh, right.’ Harper had forgotten that Joey took the cliché of the hermit writer to a new level. He never let anyone into his sphere without quite a lot of work.
Harper could only hope Gina would be able to leapfrog Joey’s walls. Speaking of which, time to call the woman in question and arrange the sit-down. She didn’t know why it always made her nervous to call Gina.
Possibly because of the note they’d left things on. Harper had crossed a line talking about Gina’s book, which was sad because Harper’s explosive diarrhoea had seemed to bring them closer for a moment, almost like they might be friends. And then poof! Just like that, intimacy had blown away in the wind with a few ill-advised comments. Harper had only meant to pay a sincere compliment. But she supposed she should have known better. Writers. They were a tricky bunch.
Gina answered on the fifth ring, by which time Harper had convinced herself that she wasn’t going to pick up. So when Gina gave her usual deadpan, ‘Olivia Noble’s office, Gina speaking,’ Harper was somehow caught off guard. She started to say two different things, ‘Hello,’ and, ‘Gina, hi,’. She ended up saying a garbled contraction of both. ‘Hegioh!’
‘What?’ Gina asked.
Harper tittered nervously. ‘Sorry, I mean, Hi Gina.’
‘Hi?’ Gina replied, still confused.
Christ, she was supposed to announce herself, wasn’t she? ‘It’s Harper.’ She swallowed thickly. ‘I was just calling to set up that meeting we talked about.’
‘Oh, yeah. OK.’
‘Are you free this Saturday?’ Harper asked, trying to get her nerves under control.
‘I can do that. Just email me the location and time.’
Harper realised then she could have just done this whole thing by email. What an error. She dreaded to think what Gina must think of her by now. Chaotic idiot with a leaky bum, probably. ‘Cool. Oh, and I’ll be there too.’
There was a pause. ‘You will?’
‘Yeah, sorry to be the third wheel, but it was at Joey’s request. He’s nervous about new people.’
Gina sighed with evident irritation. ‘Fine. See you then,’ she said and hung up without further comment.
Harper couldn’t understand this relationship. How did it get more difficult the longer they knew each other?
***
It was her third date with Olivia, and they were at the theatre to see a play. The play was God awful. Some dreadful thing about a couple on the verge of divorce. The dialogue was stiff and unrealistic. Every minute felt like an hour. The arrival of intermission had felt like a gift.
Harper was in the bar waiting for Olivia to come back from the toilet. She was glad she was taking her time. Maybe she’d make them miss the start of the second half, and they wouldn’t be allowed back in—a sweet dream.
Olivia appeared a second after Harper had that thought, and Harper resigned herself to going back in. But Olivia opened with, ‘Hey, is it me or is this play a bit…’ She grimaced.
‘You’re not into it either?’ Harper asked her
Olivia shook her head. ‘No. You wanna sit out the second half, just have a drink here?’
