and slid the pan into the oven. “I’ll let you men talk,” she said. “Excuse me.” She hurried from the room.
Jake followed her with his gaze. Probably thinks we want to talk about her employment. And she’s probably right. He turned back to Matt, shaking his wet hands off and reaching for a towel.
“I didn’t know she’d be so pretty,” said Matt in an undertone, his eyes alight with interest. “I’m surprised you’re finishing any work at all!”
“Don’t be vulgar.” Jake returned to his chair. “Betty’s a nice girl. Don’t you get any ideas about her.”
“I won’t.” Matt still watched him closely. “But I wonder if you have?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Jake with dignity.
Matt sipped his milk. “Well. I’m glad it worked out. Looks like I’ll get a book out of you before the summer after all!”
“Don’t count your chickens. I’ll do what I can, but there’s no guarantee.”
“I know. Just do your best. I’m glad my plan worked so well so far, that’s all. You know you’re not happy unless you’re writing something.”
Jake looked at his publisher. He suddenly realized Matt hadn’t sent Betty over just because he wanted another book. He was worried about me. He swallowed. For a second, he felt downright bad for misjudging Matt.
Jake didn’t like the idea of people interfering in his life and trying to fix it for him, but he was grateful Matt had cared—and that he’d been lucky enough to pick Betty as his secretary.
Instead of saying any of this, he grunted and turned aside. “How’s the business going?”
“Oh, so-so,” said Matt, shifting his glass around between his palms. “One of my authors is up for an award. I actually came to see you about that. Do you want to come to the award party? There’s always plenty of press for things like that, and the more authors I can get to show, the better newspaper coverage we’ll receive. I didn’t call to ask because I knew you’d just hang up on me.” He grinned his slightly roguish smile.
Jake grimaced. “You know I hate those things.”
“I know. Do it for the home team.” Matt reached over and slugged him in the arm.
Jake wondered if he was being invited because Matt actually needed him for publicity, or if this was another plot to rehabilitate him into society.
“I’ll think about it,” he said, more to be polite than because he actually planned to consider going to a party—of any sort.
Matt swirled his milk, and grinned. His blue eyes danced with amusement and fun; Matt never seemed to be depressed. “I’ll get Betty to make you go.”
Jake glared. “Don’t you dare. Besides, you should let the poor girl alone. Can’t you tell she’s scared you’re going to fire her?”
Matt laughed aloud. “Is that it? I’d be insane to. Besides, it’s not up to me anymore, and you know it.” He grinned roguishly. “Watch this.” Matt looked over his shoulder, called, “Miss Keene! Could you come in here a moment?”
“Matt…” said Jake warningly.
Betty hurried into the kitchen. “Yes, Mr. Armstrong?” Her face looked worried.
“Miss Keene. I wondered if you would be willing to come to a party I’m throwing for an author of mine.”
“I— Oh,” said Betty. “I…don’t know.” She glanced at Jake. “I don’t think I belong at a place like that.”
“Don’t be silly. Of course you do! You might enjoy it, and besides, it will be a nice way to meet everyone in the company—since you’ll obviously be with us for a long time.”
“I— Oh, I will?” She looked at Jake again, her expression displaying uncertainty.
“I’m not going to fire you, and he can’t,” said Jake, nodding toward Matt.
Betty Ann looked past him again, to Jake. Then she focused on Matt and shook her head gently. “Thank you kindly, Mr. Armstrong, but I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you.”
Matt smiled ruefully. “It’s your decision, of course, but I
Jake followed her with his gaze. Probably thinks we want to talk about her employment. And she’s probably right. He turned back to Matt, shaking his wet hands off and reaching for a towel.
“I didn’t know she’d be so pretty,” said Matt in an undertone, his eyes alight with interest. “I’m surprised you’re finishing any work at all!”
“Don’t be vulgar.” Jake returned to his chair. “Betty’s a nice girl. Don’t you get any ideas about her.”
“I won’t.” Matt still watched him closely. “But I wonder if you have?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Jake with dignity.
Matt sipped his milk. “Well. I’m glad it worked out. Looks like I’ll get a book out of you before the summer after all!”
“Don’t count your chickens. I’ll do what I can, but there’s no guarantee.”
“I know. Just do your best. I’m glad my plan worked so well so far, that’s all. You know you’re not happy unless you’re writing something.”
Jake looked at his publisher. He suddenly realized Matt hadn’t sent Betty over just because he wanted another book. He was worried about me. He swallowed. For a second, he felt downright bad for misjudging Matt.
Jake didn’t like the idea of people interfering in his life and trying to fix it for him, but he was grateful Matt had cared—and that he’d been lucky enough to pick Betty as his secretary.
Instead of saying any of this, he grunted and turned aside. “How’s the business going?”
“Oh, so-so,” said Matt, shifting his glass around between his palms. “One of my authors is up for an award. I actually came to see you about that. Do you want to come to the award party? There’s always plenty of press for things like that, and the more authors I can get to show, the better newspaper coverage we’ll receive. I didn’t call to ask because I knew you’d just hang up on me.” He grinned his slightly roguish smile.
Jake grimaced. “You know I hate those things.”
“I know. Do it for the home team.” Matt reached over and slugged him in the arm.
Jake wondered if he was being invited because Matt actually needed him for publicity, or if this was another plot to rehabilitate him into society.
“I’ll think about it,” he said, more to be polite than because he actually planned to consider going to a party—of any sort.
Matt swirled his milk, and grinned. His blue eyes danced with amusement and fun; Matt never seemed to be depressed. “I’ll get Betty to make you go.”
Jake glared. “Don’t you dare. Besides, you should let the poor girl alone. Can’t you tell she’s scared you’re going to fire her?”
Matt laughed aloud. “Is that it? I’d be insane to. Besides, it’s not up to me anymore, and you know it.” He grinned roguishly. “Watch this.” Matt looked over his shoulder, called, “Miss Keene! Could you come in here a moment?”
“Matt…” said Jake warningly.
Betty hurried into the kitchen. “Yes, Mr. Armstrong?” Her face looked worried.
“Miss Keene. I wondered if you would be willing to come to a party I’m throwing for an author of mine.”
“I— Oh,” said Betty. “I…don’t know.” She glanced at Jake. “I don’t think I belong at a place like that.”
“Don’t be silly. Of course you do! You might enjoy it, and besides, it will be a nice way to meet everyone in the company—since you’ll obviously be with us for a long time.”
“I— Oh, I will?” She looked at Jake again, her expression displaying uncertainty.
“I’m not going to fire you, and he can’t,” said Jake, nodding toward Matt.
Betty Ann looked past him again, to Jake. Then she focused on Matt and shook her head gently. “Thank you kindly, Mr. Armstrong, but I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you.”
Matt smiled ruefully. “It’s your decision, of course, but I
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