Chapter 9
Unlike Fiona, Charlie had the decency to knock on his business partner’s door before entering. The look she gave him was pure theater, perfected over the years to win deals and terrify the opposition.
“Charlie,” she said, lowering her glasses on their golden chain.
“Fi, I realize this deal is an unusual setup, but to be clear, I’m Kate’s agent, not you.”
“We’ve been over this. I represent the author, you represent the actor,” she said in the same tone she’d used when he was fourteen years old and hanging around his dad’s office. “The book doing well is a win for both of us.”
“I know that, but it wasn’t fair of you to withhold the information about the overseas deals. You really dropped Kate in the deep end there, and me by default.”
“Intentionally so,” Fiona said, unruffled. “We needed to see if she cracked under pressure.”
“Would you have pulled a stunt like that with my father?”
Fi opened her mouth and closed it again.
“Because I’m never going to be him.”
“You can say that again,” she shot back.
He sighed. “If this thing is ever going to work long term, we have to be transparent and able to trust each other.”
“You’ve spent too much time in therapy.” She rolled her eyes. “ Transparent. ”
“And you’ve spent too much time sitting up here in your ivory tower, not giving a damn how you treat the people around you,” he said, because she knew enough about what had happened in L.A. to not be so judgmental.
They eyeballed each other across the expanse of her desk.
It was on the tip of Charlie’s tongue to apologize. It wasn’t his way to be so direct with Fiona, but the words stilled in his throat. Something in her shifting expression almost resembled respect.
“Close the door on your way out,” she said, perching her glasses back on her nose.
He contemplated leaving it ajar, but he’d done and said enough, and he wasn’t fourteen anymore.
He’d lost his mother when he was barely old enough to remember her, just abstract catches of perfume and the warmth of her hug.
Fiona had never tried to step into her shoes, but as the only constant female in Jojo’s life, she’d always been there on the peripheries.
Over the years his father had mostly referred to her as “that bloody woman,” but their business partnership had been long and fruitful.
The jury was out on how things were going to work between Charlie and Fi, but one thing was for sure: it would never be easy.