It’s WIP Wednesday, so here’s a little snippet from my work-in-progress, which I’m still calling MAN OF THE HOUR. I’ve sent Sean and Katie to a swanky hotel in Louisville, and Katie’s just found out they’re going to have to share a room. Poor, poor Katie.
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We need to talk, she said, turning toward Sean. He looked down at his arm where shed grabbed it again. Damn it. She released him, and he handed a card to the receptionist. Then he turned around on the stool to face her and lifted one hand, palm up. Go ahead, the gesture said. Im listening.
Right. Time to trot out a brilliant explanation for why the thought of sharing a room with him gave her the heebie-jeebies. She considered the possibilities.
You hate me?
Maybe a tad too direct.
You make me nervous?
She sure as hell wasnt about to admit that.
I dont want to have sex with you, she said in a fierce whisper.
Brilliant. Just fucking brilliant. It wasnt what shed meant to say at all, but shed opened her mouth and her stupidest thought had come tumbling out. This always happened when she was anxious. In the interview for the Ohios Junior Miss competition back in high school, one of the judges had asked her what her views were on euthanasia, and shed said something completely moronic about starving children in China.
Sean frowned, then grabbed a pen off the reception desk and used it to write a note on the paper the receptionist had just slid in his direction.
I didnt ask you to.
Ouch.
Of course he hadnt. He wouldnt, seeing as he hated her and all. And now, since she couldnt think of anything not-stupid to sayand since her eyes stung with humiliated tears that she would never, ever shed in front of this manshe was going to spend the next two nights sleeping next to someone whose disdain for her could not possibly be more plain. A very handsome, very remote someone who refused to speak to herand apparently it was only herfor some mysterious reason she wasnt privy to.
