Page 14 of Joy to Noel
Liam surrenders the tablet to my greedy hands and closes the door to the draft outside. “Yes. I got a reMarkable tablet two years ago and have never looked back.”
I try not to drool. There’s something especially satisfying about marking edits with a real pen on real paper. But, as someone who cares about the environment, I don’t like unnecessarily printing out documents.
“I’ll admit I’m getting a little green-eyed here. As an editor, I would love marking changes by hand and having them convert to text. I wouldn’t kill my eyes staring at a computer screen and could sit in a comfortable chair instead of being tied to a table. Could have saved a lot of headaches over the past several years,” I say, turning the tablet over in my hands.
“That’s what you do? Editing?” Liam asks, holding out his hand for the device.
I nod, meeting his gaze. “Proofreading and copyediting, mostly. Different than line editing,” I say. When he quirks an eyebrow, I add, “What? Now you’re intrigued by the difference between editing stages?”
Liam’s eyes bore into mine as he remarks, “I’m intrigued by a lot of things.”
I ignore the thrilling shiver that surges through me.
His eyes drop to the tablet as he powers it on. “I can see how it would be appealing to an editor,” he says, then gives me a brief rundown of the features.
“What made you want something like this instead of a regular laptop? Computers seem much more executive,” I quip.
“I write by hand a lot faster than I type,” Liam replies.
I brace myself. “Liam Park, do not tell me that you don’t have proper typing technique.”
His eyes dance mischievously as he leans in, pointing to himself. “I’m a hunt-and-peck typer, through and through.”
I groan, covering my ears and squinting my eyes shut. “I think you just ruptured my ear drums with that admission. I’m appalled.”
Liam shrugs. “Hasn’t held my career back in the slightest, despite your dismay. Besides, this is much more conducive to taking notes while walking around a factory than a laptop,” he says. He waves the tablet in front of me like a taunt and adds, “As evidenced by the twenty-two pages of notes I have from today alone.”
Scoffing dramatically, I motion toward my laptop on the small table next to us. “Well, I created a brand-new business from nothing today, so who’s the real productivity victor here?”
Liam glances at the table then back at me, an evil gleam in his eye. “All I see is a jazzy Christmas ambience scene on your tablet. I hardly call that a productive work day, despite whatever long-story explanation you have to tell me.”
Smacking him on the arm, I huff. “You have definitelynotearned that long story yet. Your insight into Noel’s Christmas magic will have to wait. I’ll have you know, I wrestled with US government regulations and won,” I say, pointing at the laptop.
He looks more intently at the screen, which still displays the web domain site. “MJ, huh?” His eyes meet mine again. “Is that what your friends call you?”
“No, absolutely not. I’m calling the business ‘Madison Joy Editorial’ because Madison Joy rolls off the tongue more smoothly than Madison Wheeler. My friends call me ‘Mads,’ but my middle name does not come into play with nicknames,” I say. When his eyes narrow slightly, I narrow my own. “Maybe ‘Joy’ isn’t the appropriate nickname for my saucy attitude.”
“Maybe,” he says, holding my pointed gaze. “Or maybe it’s perfect, MJ.”
I roll my eyes to break the spell of Liam’s eye contact. “Regardless, I maintain that starting a new business is a more impressive achievement than twenty-one pages of notes,” I say.
“Twenty-two,” Liam corrects. “Twenty-twopages of notes.”
I wave off the correction. “Just admit defeat,” I assert, returning my hand to a popped hip.
“Never,” Liam murmurs. “Is a businessreallyvalid if there’s no website to prove its legitimacy?”
Ugh, that’s such a good point. I absolutely don’t trust a business with no online presence.
I pin him with my best glare. “We’ll call day one a draw, Mr. Exec, but we may need to clearly define the rules of this competition for the future,” I state.
Liam shrugs one shoulder. “If you insist, MJ. Now, if you don’t mind, I have twenty-two pages of notes to review and consolidate, so I’ll leave you to your relaxing Christmas vibes.”
As he steps backward, I realize for the first time how closely we were standing to each other. An odd wave of disappointment cascades through me at the empty space between us now. Shaking it off, I raise my chin. “I’ll call your notes review and raise you one web design. See you tomorrow, Liam.”
Did I stay awake until 1:30 a.m. fighting with a web design platform?
I’m exercising my fifth amendment rights.
