Page 30 of Snow Balled

I hesitated, not wanting to intrude. Finally, I said, “That doesn’t seem like you.”

He sighed. “It’s not—usually.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I hate waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

He closed the lid of his laptop as he looked over at me. “For anything, really. But in this case, a phone call. Or a text.”

“About?”

“A deal. An important one. We’re trying to contract with a company for a steady supply of recycled steel, which would go a long way towards getting our company off the ground. I found the source. I handled the negotiations. But now it’s all in the hands of the lawyers.”

He looked so tense, I wanted to reach over and pat his hand. “I hope it goes well.”

“Me, too.” He checked his phone even though he’d just checked it a minute ago. “I don’t like it when I’m not in control.”

He looked like a man who was used to being in control, but I couldn’t empathize very well because I didn’t know what that felt like. All my life, I’d been under the control of someone else—a director. My mother. My agent. Until I’d come out here, pretty much every decision in my life was made by someone else. So I switched subjects. “What were you drawing?”

His cheeks reddened slightly. “It’s nothing.”

“I doubt that. Can I see?”

To my surprise, he slid the notebook across to me. On it were a series of circles and squares with the letter S prominently displayed, or sometimes SF. I didn’t have a clue what they were, but I wanted to make him smile. “Star Fleet?”

His expression softened for half a second, but then his scowl returned. “When I get stuck on what I’m doing, I try sketching out logos for our company.”

I examined the sketches again. A few of them looked logo-like. “What does it stand for?”

“Sustainability First, Inc.”

“Can’t you hire a graphic designer?”

“I did. This was what they came up with.” He pushed up the sleeve of his long-sleeved t-shirt and showed me a blue emblem on his wrist. It… uh… well, the letters S and F showed through clearly. That was about the best I could say about it.

“I like it,” I lied.

“I don’t. I thought it was right, but it wasn’t.”

“Are you stuck with it?”

He finally gave me a ghost of a smile. “On my arm, yes. For the company, no.”

“Well… that’s good. And I’m sure you can get the tattoo removed if you want to.”

He nodded. “For now, I’m leaving it there to remind myself that some things shouldn’t be rushed.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

His eyebrow cocked upward. “Maybe?”

I looked away for a moment, not sure I wanted to get into it. But he’d told me what was bothering him. “I just found out that there might be a chance for me to show my screenplay to someone influential. Someone who might be able to help it get made into a movie someday.”

The smile that spread across his face erased the furrows in his brow. “That’s amazing. Who is it?”

“Someone in the industry,” I said hastily. I couldn’t exactly tell him that it was a famous director without explaining that I was in the industry, too.

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