Lunch With JJ

JJ and I met for lunch; the kids had an assembly and he had more time than usual. “So…you’re okay with this morning’s review?”

We’d decided on Italian. I twined pasta around my fork and shoved it in my mouth, nodding.

He beamed at me. “I’m proud of you, Fen. A lot of writers wouldn’t have taken it that well.”

I swallowed, chasing it with water. “It wasn’t a bad review, as such, and it was funny as hell. Someone in the writer’s group bought the story because of that review. Others may do the same. Bottom line: I make more money and so does the publisher.”

“But if they agree with the reviewer, they won’t buy your other stuff.”

“I can’t control that, babe. A few might, but don’t forget, Brief Encounters gave that same story an ‘A’ rating.” I popped an olive in my mouth and grinned. “Perspective. I have it.”

He gestured toward the water glass. “No wine?”

“Taking a break. My pants were a little tight this morning, so I have to skip it for a while.”

His expression bordered on incredulous. “But you love your wine.”

“I do! Very much, but it’ll be there when I’m ready to drink it again. It’s not like the world will run out while I’m being virtuous.”

“Virtuous.” He snorted laughter. “Here’s my solution to the tight pants: More sex. Work up a sweat in bed.”

Laughing, I touched my foot to his under the table. “Let’s start tonight.”

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About Fenraven

Fenraven happily lives in south Florida, where it is really hot most of the year. Find him on Twitter, Google +, and Facebook by searching on 'fenraven'.
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