on hips, watching him, before she tapped him on the foot. He looked up startled and then smiled.
“Oh, hello! Sorry I didn’t hear you come in. I was rather engrossed in this.” David brought his feet to the floor and placed the laptop on the trunk. “How is everyone?”
Charlotte kicked off her shoes and sat on the couch across from him.
“Good.” She placed her head in the palm of her hands.
“Must be some script,” she said, dying to know if she’d get a peek at the next David King blockbuster.
“Oh. Oh that. I finished that an hour ago,” David cast his eyes down and looked up at her through his eyelashes, a wicked smirk on his face. Charlotte wondered how many times he used that look to seduce the panties off women.
Charlotte’s eyes narrowed to slits, knowing something was up and also weary from his constant teasing. “Okay, what is it--- what’s with the face?”
“Nothing,” he said in a sing-song voice before he leaned toward her, that playful leer dancing on his lips. “Did you know you can download books on the Internet?” Charlotte’s face fell as she realized what he was driving at. “And, more important, did you know that you can download your books on the Internet?” He batted his eyes at her like a ten- year-old trying to charm his way into the cookie jar.
Charlotte turned crimson. “Which one?” she asked, afraid of the answer.
David leaned against the chair and folded his hands in his lap, pleased with his handiwork. “Well, I thought I’d start from the beginning of your series, ‘ Hot Cabo Nights’ and then move on to ‘ Parisian Pleasure ,’ ” he said, unable to contain his rich, throaty laughter.
Charlotte popped up from the couch and headed to the kitchen, beyond embarrassed. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself,” she squeaked. “Can I review your movies now?”
“You already did!” he gasped with laughter. “Oscar-worthy---- remember?” He was now doubled, practically hyperventilating. Embarrassed, Charlotte fumbled through the cabinets in search of a Twinkie, but couldn’t locate them. Now of all times to not be able to find a Twinkie…
“Charlotte, my dear, you are one naughty girl.”
Charlotte found the Twinkie box but couldn’t get it open. She heard David stand and walk over to her. “I need a cold shower!”
Charlotte ripped open the box and grabbed a snack cake, tearing into the cellophane wrap with her teeth. Her hands were shaking, and she felt like crawling in a hole.
“Hey, look at me,” David said as he tugged on Charlotte’s shoulder to get her to turn around and face him. Charlotte looked down, but David tilted her chin up and pulled her face toward his. “You are a damn fine writer. I read up on you, and you’re well loved by your readers. You should be proud of that.”
Charlotte sighed, still flustered over her sensitivity about her vocation. “I don’t write great American novels, but they pay the bills.” Charlotte felt the beginning of a tear rim one eye and looked up at the ceiling, hoping she could make it glide back to where it came from. David’s proximity wasn’t helping her frazzled state. He broke away from her and leaned against the counter.
“When did you write your first book?”
Charlotte sat down at the kitchen table, where David joined her. “Twenty-two; I was lucky and got published my first time out of the gate.”
“Twenty-two?” he yelped. “You could write that steamy stuff at twenty-two?”
Charlotte shrugged and shoved a finger into the squishy white cream of her Twinkie. “My mother always told me I had an active imagination. All I did was use it for good, not evil.”
David put his chin in his hand. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about Charlotte. I’ll give you this; you’re good with the written word... You ever thought about screenwriting?”
Charlotte shook her head.
”You might do okay. Of course, the suits would have to tone it down though, unless you don’t object
“Oh, hello! Sorry I didn’t hear you come in. I was rather engrossed in this.” David brought his feet to the floor and placed the laptop on the trunk. “How is everyone?”
Charlotte kicked off her shoes and sat on the couch across from him.
“Good.” She placed her head in the palm of her hands.
“Must be some script,” she said, dying to know if she’d get a peek at the next David King blockbuster.
“Oh. Oh that. I finished that an hour ago,” David cast his eyes down and looked up at her through his eyelashes, a wicked smirk on his face. Charlotte wondered how many times he used that look to seduce the panties off women.
Charlotte’s eyes narrowed to slits, knowing something was up and also weary from his constant teasing. “Okay, what is it--- what’s with the face?”
“Nothing,” he said in a sing-song voice before he leaned toward her, that playful leer dancing on his lips. “Did you know you can download books on the Internet?” Charlotte’s face fell as she realized what he was driving at. “And, more important, did you know that you can download your books on the Internet?” He batted his eyes at her like a ten- year-old trying to charm his way into the cookie jar.
Charlotte turned crimson. “Which one?” she asked, afraid of the answer.
David leaned against the chair and folded his hands in his lap, pleased with his handiwork. “Well, I thought I’d start from the beginning of your series, ‘ Hot Cabo Nights’ and then move on to ‘ Parisian Pleasure ,’ ” he said, unable to contain his rich, throaty laughter.
Charlotte popped up from the couch and headed to the kitchen, beyond embarrassed. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself,” she squeaked. “Can I review your movies now?”
“You already did!” he gasped with laughter. “Oscar-worthy---- remember?” He was now doubled, practically hyperventilating. Embarrassed, Charlotte fumbled through the cabinets in search of a Twinkie, but couldn’t locate them. Now of all times to not be able to find a Twinkie…
“Charlotte, my dear, you are one naughty girl.”
Charlotte found the Twinkie box but couldn’t get it open. She heard David stand and walk over to her. “I need a cold shower!”
Charlotte ripped open the box and grabbed a snack cake, tearing into the cellophane wrap with her teeth. Her hands were shaking, and she felt like crawling in a hole.
“Hey, look at me,” David said as he tugged on Charlotte’s shoulder to get her to turn around and face him. Charlotte looked down, but David tilted her chin up and pulled her face toward his. “You are a damn fine writer. I read up on you, and you’re well loved by your readers. You should be proud of that.”
Charlotte sighed, still flustered over her sensitivity about her vocation. “I don’t write great American novels, but they pay the bills.” Charlotte felt the beginning of a tear rim one eye and looked up at the ceiling, hoping she could make it glide back to where it came from. David’s proximity wasn’t helping her frazzled state. He broke away from her and leaned against the counter.
“When did you write your first book?”
Charlotte sat down at the kitchen table, where David joined her. “Twenty-two; I was lucky and got published my first time out of the gate.”
“Twenty-two?” he yelped. “You could write that steamy stuff at twenty-two?”
Charlotte shrugged and shoved a finger into the squishy white cream of her Twinkie. “My mother always told me I had an active imagination. All I did was use it for good, not evil.”
David put his chin in his hand. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about Charlotte. I’ll give you this; you’re good with the written word... You ever thought about screenwriting?”
Charlotte shook her head.
”You might do okay. Of course, the suits would have to tone it down though, unless you don’t object
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