Little Moments
Page 27
He rolled his eyes. “You think you have what it takes to make it in this industry?”
“I’m hopeful, yeah.” I nodded, not sure where he was going with his train of thought.
“You think you can write any character imaginable? You think you can get inside the mind of anyone and write their point of view?”
“Sure.” I leaned back on my chair, running my hand through my hair. “If you can do it, I can do it.”
He shook his head. “All right. State your terms. You have the weekend to convince me—and everyone at this convention—that you’re someone else. Choose your character wisely. And if you succeed, not only will I give your name to my agent, but I’ll also put in a good word at my internship for you here in Seattle. I hear they’re still interviewing for the copy editing job.”
I cocked my head to the side. “You’d do that? You’d put your rep on the line for a nobody like me? What would be in it for you?” I asked skeptically.
“Nothing, really. But I don’t expect you to win.”
I laughed. “Let’s say I go through with this. What exactly are we talking about?”
“You pick a personality, someone you aren’t in real life, and play the part. If you’re proven successful, I’ll keep my word. Promise,” Jack said.
“Okay. Deal. Who am I supposed to be?”
Jack gazed around the room, rubbing his jaw with his thumb. His eyes rested on the empty table next to us. “The player. You get Monica into your bed by the end of the weekend, and you will have proven that you can get inside the head of a mid-twenties gigolo for the weekend.”
“Really? Do you really think I have something I need to prove to you? And to play with some poor girl’s emotions like that? Don’t you think we should be doing something a little more constructive with our time here?” I snapped.
“That’s fine. You don’t have to do it.” He smirked. “I win.” He rose from his chair and tucked it under the table. “That was easy enough.” He walked toward the door, and then turned back smarmily. “Have a nice evening, Mike.”