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“My job working under him?”
“Good point.” She nods. Then her eyes narrow. “But why me?”
“You’re the best.”
Izzy rolls her eyes. “Oh come on. There has to be more reason than that.”
“You’re good at calling people out on their shit.”
“And?”
I let out a frustrated breath. “You know him. You know him better than I do even. If anyone can pull this off it’s you.”
“Now you’re just patronizing me.” Izzy stands up suddenly. But before she can walk off, I reach for her hand.
“No. I’m not. Izzy, I've read your blog.”
“How mu?—”
“All of it. The last five years of it.”
With that, she slowly sits back down. I let go of her hand, though our fingers are still touching.
“I also read the article you wrote for Slay. The one that got you fired.”
Izzy scrunches her nose at that. “Yeah, that was a whole thing.”
“It was fucking brilliant. Because you didn’t just rip them apart. You told a story. One people could relate to that liberated the truth. It may have cost you your job but people loved it. That’s the kind of writer I need behind this article and that’s why I need you.”
“And what’s in it for me? I can’t exactly just drop everything to work for you. I have a life, you know.”
“You’re a retail cashier and a blogger.”
“First of all, I am not just a cashier. I manage the store with my friend Cassie and it’s a very successful shop!”
“And I don’t doubt that. But is it you?”
“Is what me?” She snaps.
“Seriously, Izzy. I’ve known you long enough to know that not working in journalism is probably killing you. What I am offering to offer you would launch you back into that world. That’s what’s in it for you. You could finally stick it to your dad. The man that has done nothing but drag you down for years. That and money.”
“I don’t want your money.” She crosses her arms over her chest and I wipe my hand down my face.
“You are impossible, you know that?” I say.
“And you are presumptuous.”
I lean in, getting right in her face. “What would be presumptuous is if I took you upstairs and?—”
She turns to face me. Our mouths are so close I can almost taste her. We breathe in and out, the steam swirling around our flushed faces. For a moment I think about kissing her. I’ve never wanted anything so badly. I don’t know what I was thinking telling her to meet me in the pool. I should have known I wouldn’t be able to keep my head up and my dick pointed south.
“I don’t think you should get out of the water any time soon,” she says and I know she’s talking about the hardon in my swim trunks.
Then, a very small, very bratty smile curls the corners of her lips.
Discreetly, I glance around. Other than a couple at the end of the pool who look like they’re sleeping and a couple families clear at the other end of the main pool we have the place to ourselves. My hand finds her thigh and travels south, further and further until I find the seam of her bikini bottoms.
“What are you doing?” Izzy whispers.