Work In Progress (Red Lipstick Coalition #3) - Staci Hart Page 0,16
from you, I believe it,” he said, laying it on so thick, I fought a baffling impulse to physically remove his hand from hers.
Fortunately for all of us, he let her go on his own.
“Don’t listen to Teddy,” I said, smiling wider when he scowled at me. “He’s the brains. I’m the face.”
Amelia stifled a laugh. “You literally look exactly alike.”
I moved to Theo’s side. “You say that now,” I said, pausing to wet my bottom lip, “but you’ll figure out our differences soon enough.”
Her eyes were on my lips. “I…ah…” Just as I began patting myself on the back, she finished her thought, “One of your teeth is crooked. Right here.” She bared her teeth comically and pointed at an incisor.
Theo barked a laugh, and my face flattened.
And Amelia Hall smiled, her cheeks rosy and high, her pretty, smartass lips together.
I moved to the couch, turning my attention and wounded pride to the manuscripts waiting there. “Anyway, Teddy here was just leaving. Weren’t you, Theo?”
He slipped his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe I’ll hang around for a while.”
The look I shot him had him rolling his eyes. But he let out a resigned sigh.
“All right. Amelia, let me know if you need anything. And Tommy, don’t forget to arrange Amelia’s payment.”
“Oh, no,” she said as she sat on the couch opposite me. “I don’t expect to be paid. I just do this for fun.”
I frowned. “I’m sorry, I just don’t feel right not paying you.”
Theo nodded. “I don’t think you realize what a pain in your ass he’s gonna be.”
She shrugged. “It’s all right. Really. I insist.”
My frown deepened. “No, I insist. Everyone can use extra cash. I mean, unless I’m mistaken as to how much bloggers make.”
Now Amelia was frowning, too, her little mouth downturned in such a way that she almost looked like she was pouting. It was so adorable, I had to stop myself from chuckling.
“First, I’ll have you know that bloggers can make a living wage, and I’d thank you kindly not to insult the industry that happens to spread the word about your books.”
Properly scolded, I nodded. “I meant no offense—”
“And second, I don’t need your money, Mr. Bane. My father invented the Slap Chop,” she said with her nose in the air.
All instinct to laugh stopped dead, then rose like a tornado. “Your…what?”
Her rosy cheeks splotched at the edges. “He invented the Slap Chop. The ShamWow. Egglettes. A dozen other household innovations you can find at Bed, Bath, and Beyond.”
I coughed to cover sputtering laughter as she continued.
“So, while I appreciate your offer, I do not require payment. A good reference would suffice.”
I smoothed my face in earnest. “I…I’m sorry, Amelia. I didn’t intend to insult you. I just didn’t want you to feel taken advantage of. So, no…you don’t need my money. I’m almost positive your dad’s net worth is triple mine.”
“Closer to quintuple. And thank you.” She opened her notebook and smiled at me, pen at the ready. “Where should we start?”
“And that’s my cue.” Theo headed for the door. “Good luck, Amelia,” he said with a smirk identical to mine. “You’re gonna need it.”
I shook my head. “I’d like to say he won’t always be such a shit, but it’d be a lie.”
She chuckled as I reached for the stack of papers on my coffee table.
I sorted through them aimlessly as I spoke. “I’m in a bind, Amelia. My manuscript is past due, and I have very little to show for. Just this.”
I handed her the stack of shitty manuscripts, and she took them curiously.
Her brows furrowed as she flipped through them. “None of these are even a complete act.”
“No, they are not, which is why I need your help. If you’re interested, I’d like you to read this trash pile and tell me if you think any of it is salvageable. I’m wondering if there’s a way to combine some of them to fully bake an idea. Hell, I’d take half-baked. These aren’t even batter.”
Her eyes scanned the pages as she thumbed through them, skimming the synopsis on the fronts. “How far behind deadline are you?”
“Far enough that my editor has crawled up my ass and made a nest.”
One of her brows rose. “That sounds uncomfortable.”
“You have no idea.”
Another laugh. She tucked a bit of hair behind her ear, pen hooked in her fingers. “All right, I can do that. When do you want to meet again?”