Page 23 of Kissing Flynn

“Living in Los Angeles and still sickeningly in love,” I deadpan, making him laugh again. “Milo and I get together with them a lot. We’re all very close.”

“And when you’re not with them or working, what fills your time? Any hobbies?”

This is the weirdest job interview I’ve ever experienced. Barnard is asking only personal questions, and I sure as hell didn’t practice answers to these this afternoon. But I suppose, if I get the job, I’ll be getting very personal with him, so turnabout is fair play. Right?

Only…my life isn’t all that interesting outside of work and family.

“I…uh…like to go to the beach. Something about the sound of the ocean brings me peace. I also enjoy going to the movies. You have an amazing theater room, by the way.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you’ve taken advantage of it. Flynn told me you two watched a comedy film this morning.”

He did?

“Yes. We’re, ah, old friends.”

“He was your brother’s roommate in college, is that right?”

“Yes,” I say.

This line of questioning is making my skin itch. I can only assume Flynn’s interview got personal like mine is so far. How much, exactly, did he tell Barnard about our past?

“And do the two of you get along?” he asks, making me swallow thickly.

“Yes, we get along just fine.”

Not a lie, precisely. We did get along today. And we got along just fine before that night five years ago.

“Good to hear,” Barnard says with a nod. “Do you have any questions for me?”

I cock my head and narrow my gaze, my nerves forgotten. “Was that a trick question?”

He barks out a laugh. “Yes, I suppose it would seem that way after the events of yesterday. How about this? You can ask me one question without fear of reprisal.”

“Okay,” I say with a nod, then take a second to think. Arching a single brow, I lean forward and rest my clasped hands on his desk. “Best Batman. Go.”

“Michael Keaton, hands down,” he answers without pausing for even a second, and I grin.

“Good answer.”

“Great question,” he replies, then clears his throat. “Thank you for your time, Maxine. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”

My mouth opens automatically, some question about the pointlessness of this meeting on the tip of my tongue, but I quickly snap it shut. Giving Barnard a polite nod, I stand and leave the room with my head held high.

The second I get out into the hallway, I slump a bit. What even was that? Barnard now knows I have a twin brother, that my parents are still together, and that I like long walks on the beach, funny movies, and Michael Keaton. How does that help him decide if I’m the right person to write his memoir?

Shaking my head, I head back upstairs to change and see if Flynn is back in his room. I’m dying to find out if his interview was just as looney tunes as mine was. And if Barnard asked him serious career-related questions, what does that mean for me? That the man isn’t taking me seriously?

God, maybe I don’t want to know.

Back in my room, I quickly kick off my shoes and slip out of the black romper before pulling the green one I had on earlier back on. A soft knock on the door between my room and Flynn’s has me rushing over and yanking it open before motioning him inside.

“That was bizarre,” I say without preamble, and Flynn nods in agreement.

“You, too? He asked me about my favorite childhood cartoon––”

“Spongebob, obviously,” I cut in with a grin, and he returns the smile.

“Obviously.” He shakes his head. “Then we talked about college, and he seemed really interested in the fact that we were friends.”

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