I hate the smell of cigarettes and I don’t bother to keep the distaste off my face. Loretta doesn’t care and makes that pretty clear when she flips me off. She really should have been born a man. She’s a bigger dick than most men I’ve met, she definitely has bigger balls.
“How long have we known one another E.B.?”
I shrug. “A while.”
“Ten years. Ten fucking years and in that time, especially since I’ve became your agent, how many times have you been late on a manuscript.”
I shrug again.
“Not once. Not one damn time!”
“Then, I was due.”
“Bullshit. You weren’t even late the month you had to fly to Alaska to bury your dad. I think you wrote the entire time.”
“My dad was an asshole.”
“My point made. You hate people. You hate the world. You sit behind the typewriter and—”
“We use these new machines these days. They’re called computers. You should try them Loretta.”
“Fuck off. So who’s the skirt?”
“What are you talking about?” I ask her stalling. I don’t want her to know about Joy. Joy is mine. I’m not ready to share her yet.
“What piece of tail have you got your nose so far up that you aren’t working.”
“You’re being stupid,” I growl.
“Bullshit, again. I’ve been in this business for a long time. Enough to know men usually only fuck up their careers for one of two things. Dicks or Pussy. I would have figured you for one that likes pussy. But if you swing to the other side of the field, whatever. Who is it?”
“Shit. I don’t do dick, Loretta. You know that.”
“Then who is the skirt?” she asks and I walked into that pretty easily.
Fuck.
Chapter 21
Joy
“Thank you so much for all your help, Joy. You went above and beyond,” Margaret says and I wave off her thanks.
“It was my pleasure. Actually, next year I’d like to cater the event.”
“That’s such a wonderful offer, but I have to warn you our budget is pretty tight. We only play the current caterer half his fee. He waives the rest of it”
“No that’s fine. I wasn’t going to charge. I was going to do it for free.”
“I can’t let you do that. It’s much too expensive.”
“You’re not letting me, I want to. Besides I can always write it off on my taxes,” I joke. I look around the room and it’s mostly empty now and the hospital staff that joined us, are all going back to work. “Have you seen Eb?” I ask Margaret when I don’t see him anywhere.
“His agent showed up while you were in the restroom. He asked if he could use my office to meet with her.”
“Oh. I hope everything is okay. He’s been having trouble concentrating on his current project.”
“I’m sure it’s fine, although now that you mentioned it, she didn’t seem like a happy camper.”
“I might go see if they’re done. I’d like to get home pretty soon. The judging committee will be out this evening to look at the decorations.”
“I can’t believe it’s almost Christmas!”
“Me either, seems like every year it just keeps sneaking up on me,” I laugh. “Thanks again for letting me help Margaret. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bye Joy. You’re an angel,” Margaret calls back as I walk toward her office.
I didn’t mention it to Joy, but I know Eb is behind and being here today probably didn’t help matters. I’m praying he isn’t in trouble with his agent, if he is then it’s more than likely my fault. I’m actually hoping she’s still around and I can apologize and play peacemaker between the two. Eb has many redeeming qualities but tact is not one of them.
I start to go inside and introduce myself, but as I gently push the door open I stop when I hear his agent.
“What piece of tail have you got your nose so far up that you aren’t working.”
Wow.
That doesn’t sound professional at all. I flush with embarrassment, but I also instantly feel guilty too, because I’m getting Eb in trouble. I should have insisted he worked more and instead I asked him to be Santa today.
“You’re being stupid,” Eb growls, but I can hear the defensiveness in his voice. My hand tightens on the doorknob.
I miss part of the conversation, because I’m feeling horrible. Does Eb regret the time we’ve been spending with each other? It has been a lot, maybe too much. Maybe I should stop staying over at his house, at least through the week.
“It’s not what you think,” Eb growls.
“So there is a woman?”
“It’s nothing serious. I’m just scratching an itch,” Eb says and until this moment I never realized how much words could hurt. His simple words feel like a knife wound straight through my heart.
“I’d almost believe that if you were the old E.B.”
“What do you mean the old E.B.?”
“The one I’ve been working with all these years. The one who can’t stand Christmas, who can’t stand parties and wouldn’t be caught dead dressed like you are right now.”