Work In Progress (Red Lipstick Coalition #3) - Staci Hart Page 0,5
NDAs only keep honest people honest.” Theo strode toward me, stopping on the other side of the kitchen island. “And secondly, my problem is that you never think anything through. You never think at all. You just act.”
I popped the cap with a hiss and tossed the tin in the sink with a clink. “I like to think of it as recognizing an opportunity when it lands in my lap. That’s the difference between you and me. You’re a thinker, and I’m a doer. It’s why we’re such a stellar team.”
“You mean I’m the fixer.”
Ma’s voice came from behind him. “What are you fixing now, Teddy?”
Everything about him softened as he turned to face her, and I found myself relaxing, too.
“Oh, just Tommy’s mess, as usual.”
She chuckled, shuffling into the room, her arms oddly still. Theo grabbed her arm to stabilize her and helped her take a seat at the island bar. “Well, that’s nothing new.”
“It’s not a mess, Ma. In fact, I think I’ve solved all my problems.”
Her brow rose, just like Theo’s had. “Oh? You found a cure for writer’s block?”
I smiled. “Sure did—in the form of a tiny little blonde with too many opinions for her own good.”
She laughed, the sound a tight, trembling echo of what it had been before Parkinson’s. “A girl’s gonna save you?”
I leaned on the island across from her, still smiling. “A smart girl, one who isn’t afraid to tell me I’m being an idiot.”
“Well, bless her for trying.”
“Listen,” I said, meeting Ma’s eyes, then Theo’s before I continued, “I’m not too proud to admit that I need help—”
Theo snorted a laugh, his gaze brushing the ceiling.
I ignored him. “I have a good feeling about this. There’s something about her…I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Some writer you are,” Theo shot without any bite.
“It’s not that, dick. I haven’t had time to process anything. I’ve been on for the last four hours. Cut me some slack.”
He kept his mouth shut. I took a sip of my beer to keep my lips occupied and dug into my repository for a way to explain in words.
What had it been exactly? Something had stopped me on the sight of her, halted my thought. Something in the air between us, tight and humming, a spark of awareness, a zing of connection.
She had been stunned, the small, colorless girl with eyes so wide, the irises were ringed in white.
No, not colorless. She was composed of shades of porcelain and sunshine; the gleam of her platinum hair, unfussed, long and natural; her skin, creamy and smooth, tinged with the slightest pink at her cheeks, though the color rose to crimson in the span of a few heartbeats when faced with the likes of me. Her eyes were blue—so light, they were almost silver—wide and big, as if they wanted to drink in the whole world, as long as it was from a safe distance.
The size of her was enamoring, like a pocket-sized girl, a tiny thing to fit in the palm of your hand. Delicate. Breakable. Soft and gentle, like a snow-white sparrow. When I’d tucked her under my arm for the photo, I’d felt the urge to keep her there, where she’d be safe from clumsy hands.
Amelia Hall.
I’d read all her reviews—I couldn’t help it—and she was always right. I’d meant what I said to her. Every time I published a book, I hoped I’d finally win her over.
I had been disappointed every time. I’d considered asking her to be on my team a dozen times, but Theo always said no—too dangerous to let anybody in. But our meeting today had sealed the deal. Not only had she disarmed me with her nerves and the delectable way she squirmed under my attention, but she’d fired back with unexpected heat and fervency, sparking something in me, plucking a creative string that reverberated ideas and inspiration.
While I was writing, Amelia Hall would whisper in the back of my mind, her presence pressing me to take a harder look at my stories. If that had happened strictly through her reviews, I couldn’t fathom how she would affect me while working by my side.
It was like I had this big, fat blind spot that she’d point at after the car already crashed. But not this time. This time, she’d be right there to give me a solid slap if I was going the wrong way on a one-way street.
The first item of business would be to get some semblance of a