As he tilted his head, catching her gaze, her heart fluttered. If he wasn’t wearing his glasses, those beautiful blue babies might have brought her to her knees. “This is what I’m talking about when I say you’re getting too caught up in the details.” He pointed to the drawing she had been working on when he arrived. “What’s important is Reggie has been shot, but you’ve been stuck on the gun.”
Mary Allison’s nostrils flared and her short nails bit into her palm as she balled up her fist, wishing she could deck him for his nitpicking. She lifted an eyebrow and glared at him. “The devil’s in the details, and I want my readers to know exactly what kind of devil Kat is. There’s no way she would carry anything but a baby Glock. She doesn’t give a damn that it isn’t the prettiest gun on the block—reliability is key. Doesn’t matter if it’s wet, dirty, or even muddy—if you pull the trigger, that bitch is going to fire! How will the readers know it’s a baby Glock if I don’t show them?”
The corners of his lips turned up slightly. “I do enjoy your passion and dedication, but you’re going to have to finish it up and move along. The readers need to know why she shot Reggie too.”
Her lips thinned into a crooked frown as she furrowed her brow. “Alright, alright.” He wasn’t wrong so she opted not to argue for the sake of pointless pride. “Scoot.” She waved him away from her stool and then took her seat.
“And what’s with all this gore?” He pointed to the panel depicting Reggie’s demise. “Do we really need to see the brains oozing out of his skull? It’s macabre.”
Mary Allison’s nostrils flared as she folded her arms across her chest, throwing him the nastiest look she could muster. Questioning her vision and trampling on her artistic freedom with such ease took things a tad too far. “How can a graphic novel about bloody revenge be anything but grisly? The bleak tone is kind of the point!”
His eyebrows raised and he even took a step back. “Mary Allison.” His calm tone and sexy voice sent a shiver down her spine. “You know how much I respect your work, but…if the tone is too dark…” He paused, tilting his head to the side. “Well, I just don’t want to have to insist on revisions before we go to print. Dig deep. The ability to find the perfect balance is within you.”
Her jaw dropped and her nostrils flared as the room went silent. She cut jagged little holes into Holden with her glare, but he stood there quietly, most likely carefully contemplating his next words. She raised an eyebrow, sucking in a breath, preparing to let him have it, but then, he broke the spell; he smiled. Motherfucker! Here I am ready to chew him to bits and as usual, he’s completely unflappable.
Turning her attention to her work, she barely listened as he calmly and clinically presented all of the statistics and documented trends proving he was right and she could suck it. When she tried to argue, he never so much as raised his voice while he bulldozed over her. Damn, he pisses me off! “Just be quiet!” She gripped her pencil so hard it cracked. “The oozing brains stay.”
“Mary Allison.” His voice remained tranquil.
She slammed the broken pencil into the trash. “I got it. I’ll plug some comedy into the next panel, but this scene isn’t changing.” She gritted her teeth as she grabbed another pencil. Can’t he understand how much this means to me? This is my work, a story I pulled out of my heart and my head and breathed life into with my own breath. She’d given Kat’s journey as Nemesis her blood, sweat, and tears. Who was he to tell her to take it down a notch?
“Don’t clutch the pencil so tightly or you’ll break another.” He placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Now you’re going to tell me how to draw?”
“Certainly not, but I wouldn’t want my star artist to injure her hand.” He reached over and gently unwrapped her fingers from around the drawing instrument.
Her chest tightened as her heart swelled. Damnit! Once her blood pressure returned to normal, she worked through the better part of the day with him over her shoulder. At least he hadn’t embarrassed her by coming on a day when her part-timers were there to help with shading. She worked straight through lunch so by the time Holden left her house, she was back on schedule but starving to death.
As her stomach growled, she grabbed her phone and ordered a pizza before tottering into the living room and collapsing on her couch. While waiting for her four cheese and veggie delight, she stared up at the ceiling and rubbed her arm, reminiscing over the tingle she’d felt shoot all the way to her shoulder when Holden touched her hand. Fuck! I’m really starting to get pathetic!
Chapter Two
Twirling her chopsticks around inside a carton of pork fried rice, Mary Allison munched on takeout as she sat on her cozy, red couch, wearing only her pajamas and a hideously ugly pair of black-rimmed glasses, a throwback from her high school days.
In order to relax and reboot, she decided a Saturday consisting of chilling out in front of the tube was in order. No shoes, no makeup or contact lenses, and no company were expected. She hadn’t even bothered to run a comb through the jumble of flaming red strands hanging limply from her scalp. She stretched and rubbed her stiff neck, wishing the pain had been caused
