Research: Romance

ghost

Maizy is keen enough to see it and widens her smile, the challenge glints in her eye, "I'm known for keeping people on their toes, Miss Sencha." 

I wave my hand over the couch, "Please, have a seat." 

Maizy glances at Desi who is all but scowling. Catching her eye, I measure Desi with a stern look. She looks like she'd rather staple her tongue to her forehead than talk to Maizy, but Desi masters the emotion and gives a graceful nod. Spinning back around, I gesture to the couch again and Maizy takes a seat. 

"So long as Desiree doesn't mind." Maizy quips, knowing precisely where to prick with uncanny accuracy. Desi flinches at the sound of her full name but does a respectable job of covering her anger by gulping hot coffee from the mug sitting on her desk.

Another soulless, narcissistic, spiteful corporate Goul. I can practically hear Desi's mental seething from behind me while she swallows. 

As she sits, Maizy crosses one leg over the other, the red bottoms of her heels flashing for a moment. Careful not to let the silence drag on too long, I picked up the question she dropped earlier, "A Ghost of Me was the title of my last book, you're right, but it didn't actually include the supernatural. I'm playing around with the idea of paranormal romance." 

This intrigues her, and Maizy leans forward forgetting her competition with Desi for a moment, "Paranormal? Interesting development for such a factual writer like you, isn't it Leah?"

 Her eyes narrow as if she already knows the answer to her next question and is waiting for me to lie, "What inspired you to consider the supernatural?"

There was no way she could have found out about my partnership with Robin so soon. It was kept secret by a very tightknit group of people and there was no reason for it to be disclosed outside of that group unless incited. Then again, Maizy owned the studio that produced Robin's last film. The same studio adapting and producing my book for film in a few months' time if everything went well. If there was a pie in that place, Maizy was sure to put her finger in it and criticize the taste. And my pie was very much at her mercy and was no doubt served up to her the moment it was ready.  

In other words, we were busted, and totally naive for thinking it would escape her notice.

Before she was the talk show host for Writers Weekly, a film producer, and an all-around powerhouse of human beings, Maizy Barker was a columnist for a seedy sensational magazine. She networked her way into screen writing, mastered her craft, and memorized the film and writing industries from the inside out. If you were in her good graces your career would see the best of all possibilities. If she didn't like you or was indifferent to your success... That's where it got messy. Information was power, and Maizy wasn't afraid to wield it to her benefit. If it wasn't being shared on Writers Weekly, it was splashed across the pages of her magazine, Elephant in the Room, which aired some unlucky writer or celebrity's dirty laundry every week. 

Looking at her I realized that her magazine likely included the article on Robin's scandal. I would bet anything that she was directly involved in his latest movie too. I thought, examining the omniscient look on her face as she watches me figure it out. Making a mental note to ask Robin if he ever talked to her, I attempted to shake off my other thoughts. 

My heartbeat was racing, and I opened my mouth to fumble for a response, but Maizy spared me the admission by chuckling, "Oh come now, Leah. There are no secrets among friends." 

She reclines against the couch, twisting her hair around her finger as she examines me. "I know all about your little project and how it came about. The lawyers who went over your contract had to okay it with me as head of the company. Did you think it would pass me by?"