a fire and a couch. I despise the light gray carpet, but if I keep the blinds drawn, and light a few lamps, I can partially create the right mood for me to write in.
Not that it’s helped. I’ve only been here a few days and my skin is crawling with the thought of having to talk to these surplus people I don’t need. “Is this really necessary?” I struggle not to explode, and try to keep my voice as neutral as I can.
“It hasn’t worked. You’ve written six pages in how many months?” Rob paces around the room. “Your mother died. I understand this might have raked up all sorts of emotions.”
I inhale deeply. I’m dealing with it, in my own way. Shutting down, closing off more than usual. Rob doesn’t understand, and what he’s done has only made things worse. “Just get rid of them. Please. I can work better it it’s just me. I’ll get the book finished on time. I’m good with deadlines.”
Rob lifts his nose and pins me with a deathly stare. “You can’t. You couldn’t even get up off the couch, and I have that personal trainer on your back trying to get you to move.”
“I hate exercise.” I run my hands through my hair which is knotty and long. I’ve hit rock bottom, even I am aware of this, but I can and I will work through it in my own time.
“It’s eleven in the morning and you’re still in …. in … that thing.” He glares at me as if I’m wearing a thong.
“It’s a robe and it’s comfortable,” I reply defensively.
Rob clenches his fist. “You should know Ward, that this is not what I’m supposed to do. I’m not supposed to babysit you.”
“You don’t have to babysit me. I’ll get my shit together. I’ll get the book done.”
“If you had wanted to, you would have by now.”
I have a better idea. “I’ll stay here. You’re right, maybe being back in Chicago might help.”
“That’s better. Go back to your roots and face your past.”
That I won’t do. “Get rid of those two.”
Rob looks at his watch. “Can’t do, and I’m not arguing about that. I need to be back in New York. Four days here has been too long.” He points a finger at me. “I only did this to help you. You need a manager more than you need me.”
“I don’t want a manager.” Rob has been a godsend, and I don’t want to piss him off.
“You have a personal trainer, and you have a housekeeper. When I next see you, I’d better see a new and improved version of you, and I want the first draft finished.”
“I can do that. It’ll be done. Don’t worry.”
He moves towards the door and says something that really pisses me off. “By the way, the new housekeeper, she’ll be living here.”
“What?”
“She needs a place to stay. She said she needed a week to find a place to stay. I told her she could stay here.”
He knows I hate people. He knows I hate having anyone around. He knows. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“You want the truth? Because I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine.” As if having that woman living here is going to help me.
“You were a mess last time, Ward.”
“Last time was different.” Last time I was in love with a woman who was crazy.
“This is not negotiable.”
I follow him out into the entrance hall. “This isn’t going to work,” I tell him.
“Make it work. Face your demons. Write the damn book.”
MARI
Me and Trevor are laughing when the others walk back into the kitchen. I’m holding one of Ward’s books and it must look as if we’re laughing about that. Feeling guilty, I quickly put the book down.
“Ward is ready for your lesson,” Rob says. Ward has a scowl on his face. He looks anything but ready. Or maybe he always looks that miserable.
“Good luck,” Trevor whispers under his breath as he walks away.
“Is he always this difficult?” I ask when it’s just me and Rob. He slips on his jacket and looks as if he’s ready to leave.
“He’s an acquired taste. He takes some getting used to. Stay out of his way, and he’ll stay out of yours.” He chuckles. “Get him a box of donuts if you really want to make a good impression.”
“But what am I supposed to do? What do I cook? Is there a cleaning schedule? Where are the cleaning supplies?”
“You look like a smart woman. You’ll