his laughter rang behind me as he closed the door.
Chapter 6
“I hate you.”
“Is that any way to talk to your best friend, agent, and financial handler?”
Despite myself, I smiled at Bec’s familiar voice. “Do you have any idea what I’m going through over here?”
“Duh, that’s what I called to find out. Gimme the dirt.”
“There is no dirt. He’s a prick and I’m stuck with him for the foreseeable future.” And he was coming to pick me up for what he deemed a date. But it wasn’t. It was a business dinner, plain and simple.
“Yes, you are, so you need to take the stick out of your ass and have a little fun. He may be a prick, but I bet he’s a fun one. Tell me about him.”
Fun? Hardly. At least I’d yet to see that side of him, unless it included him laughing at me. Then again, Bec would probably enjoy that. “He’s . . . complex, I guess.”
“Complex how?”
I sighed and sat back against the headboard. I had a few hours before he’d be here, and my killer new dress was hanging in the closet. “There are moments when it seems like he’s going to open up and tell me something I don’t already know, but then he closes off and it’s back to innuendo and deflection. It’s frustrating.”
“Are you getting anything you can use?”
“Sure, basic background stuff. I’ve got a couple of lines to tug on. His parents are both sore spots, but I’ll get more out of him there eventually, if he’ll let me in.”
“Have you let him in?”
My mind flashed to how I’d felt when he’d had me backed up against the wall by his front door. If I was being honest, I’d wanted to devour him then and there. But that wasn’t what I was here for, and I’d been there and done that and gotten burned for the effort. No thank you.
“I don’t have to let him in. I’m the writer. He’s the subject. He needs to let me in.”
Bec heaved her own sigh. “He’s not going to open up to you if you don’t open up to him. And don’t attempt to spew anything about impartiality at me. We both know you’re anything but impartial when it comes to writing about these guys. You’re friends with each and every one of them.”
“I won’t ever be friends with Brad Reynolds.”
“No, because you’re stubborn and won’t admit you want him.”
“I do not.” Even I could hear the lie in my voice.
“Ha! I knew it! You want him!”
“Is he attractive? Yes. Is there something still there between us? Maybe. But am I going to act on it? No.”
“Why not? You could do him in the name of research. Compare the sex moves then and now.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not here to write a romance novel, I’m here to write a biography. There’s already going to be more of me in this book than I’m comfortable with. I’m hardly going to write about our sexcapades, then or now.”
“So you admit there might be some now?”
I let out a frustrated scream. “No, there will be none now. Do you know what I’m doing tonight?”
“No, but I’m dying to find out!”
“I’m going to some charity dinner with him and meeting Pamela Baxter.”
“Oooh, the ex meeting the ex! Exciting.”
Patience, Dani. Do not bite your friend’s head off. “As he so crudely informed me, she’s not his ex. She’s just someone he fucks now and then. And yes, he did use present tense.” Just the thought of him with her was making me see red, and it pissed me off that I cared.
“Well, that does make things a little awkward, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.” What if he took me to the dinner but left with her?
“But you’d already planned on talking with her, so it’s no big deal, is it?”
No. It wouldn’t be, because I wouldn’t let it. “I’d have preferred a one-on-one setting to some fancy charity dinner, but I’ll manage well enough.”
“Yes, you will. Dani, you knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but you can do it.”
“I can and I will. I just didn’t expect to . . .” I didn’t want to finish
Learning to Kill: Stories