She smiled.“You’re looking at her.”
“Congratulations.”
“I’ll take that in the spirit I know it was offered.”
I sighed, and didn’t bother to make it sound any less wearied than I felt.
“This is going to get old, don’t you think?”
“It’s already old,” she said.“I know three things about you, Keiran.You never say what you’re really thinking.You like to think of yourself as an old school gentleman like…like Rudolph Dunst, but you’re just a thug in nice clothes.And three, you pretend to besokind and charming, but you are absolutely ruthless.”Confusingly, she concluded withHamletAct 1, scene 5, “That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain!”
I quoted back doubtfully, “At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark?”
“What the hell are youtalkingabout?”
I said, “Is this because nine years ago I took the senior editor position at Millhouse?”
“Ipromoted you.Itrained you.And when you werefinallyof use, you left us and went to thecompetition.Now you think you can waltz back in and takemyjob.I don’t think so!”
“Okay, well, that wasn’t my plan.And clearly, it’s not a worry anymore.So perhaps we can just move on from here and deal with things as they are.”
“Donotpatronize me.”
“You should have another chat with Mr.Scott,” I said.“I’m pretty sure he’ll have changed his mind again in your favor.”
She eyed me narrowly.
I said, “If we’re done for the moment, I’m going to see if I can catch the last few minutes of the McGregor interview.”
“Thomas McGregor?He’s not with either of us.He’s not with W&W or Millhouse.”
“Right.He’s with Peregrin Press.I enjoy his books.”
“You…”
But, yes.I still read for pleasure, now and again.In fact, I thought it was important for writers and editors to continue to read for pleasure.At the very least, it was a great way to remind yourself why you got into such a precarious business to start with.
I nodded politely at the table of W&W editors, still staring our way, and departed.
It was standing room only in the Cypress Ballroom where Thomas McGregor was being interviewed by Nan Goodwin at Noir Nation.This was the first of the conference’s Smoking Gun author interviews—and McGregor’s first visit to the U.S.—so the size of the audience was not a surprise.
I had trouble concentrating.McGregor had a thick brogue and spoke softly; when they tried to jack up the mic, it started to feed back.
I’d already missed half the interview by the time I squeezed into the back.Almost immediately I spotted Finn and his sidekick Hayes Hartman sitting in the middle of the audience.It would have been hard to miss them—Finn, anyway—because the people around them kept leaning over to tell him they loved his books.So that didn’t help my ability to focus, but the main distraction was my conversation with Lila.
I was surprised by how much it had rattled me.
A thug?
Me?
That was a first.What in the hell was she talking about?
What thuggish thing had I ever done to her?To anyone?
Also, I was confused as to why Finn had changed his mind about going with Lila after our poolside chat.That was moot now, of course, following our conversation on the beach.
Anyway, Finn was the least of my concerns at the moment.