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“Jerk.”

“Good. Look, I know you don’t like these things, but they’re important, and well, they paid for your trip out there and then some.”

Not liking these things was the understatement of the century. Conferences, book signings, and mundane conversations with strangers nearly brought her to her knees. She’d always subtly lift her arms to see if she smelled, run her tongue across her teeth to confirm food wasn’t stuck, and by the end of the night, her mouth burned from chewing through a tin of Altoids.

“And you’re all prepared for your workshop?”

No.“Yeah.”

The material was her conference class go-to, and she’d taught the course at least a half dozen times last year but needed to refresh herself on the content. In the past, she would’ve been more nervous and more prepared. But her mind parallel pathed on exactly two focuses right now: her manuscript and Charlie.

“Mack, is everything okay? Besides, you know, the book.”

Words verged on the tip of her tongue, but no way would she burden Viviane, who’d for sure want to fix it. What would she say anyway? That she was falling for Charlie. Struggling with what that even meant. New feelings and sensations, and her heart couldn’t reconcile it all. Using Charlie for content. Just weathered a Seattle storm, had a make-out session of a lifetime, and tripped on her ego after getting thrown out. Everything was just peachy.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just feeling the pressure.” The heaviness in her chest shattered when her phone beeped with a text from Charlie. “Hey, gotta run. See you in a few days.”

She couldn’t hang up fast enough.

Charlie: Hey, it’s Charlie.

Justit’s Charlie. The full extent of the message with no bubbles to indicate she was still writing. Mack warmed at how much courage it must’ve taken for her even to send that message.

Mack: Not Kitten.

Charlie: ha. Yep

Charlie: um, can I call you?

Mack dialed.

“Sorry I got so weird tonight,” Charlie blurted. “It’s just been a long time, you know? And I’m all super extra and odd, and, well, I’d hate to lose a customer.”

“We wouldn’t want that. I promise I’ll still come in for coffee.”And to see you. And to look at your lips. And to listen to your laugh.“Sorry I almost flipped over your hammock. No idea my core needed that much work.”

Charlie sounded like she was swinging in that very hammock. “What are you up to?”

Writing about you.Mack moved to the bed and propped the pillows behind her. “Just about to revisit a lesson for a class I’m teaching on Friday.”

“Oh yeah? What kind of class?”

“The seminar’s calledLoving the Unlovable: Rooting for the Villain.The class is for writers who need to humanize people who do bad things.”

Charlie was quiet for a moment. “How do you make someone like a bad person?”

“There are ways. But I think it also depends on your definition of a villain.” She flipped to her side and put the phone on speaker. “What do you think makes someone a villain?”

A few moments passed, and Mack closed her eyes. Did Charlie havethe same blanket wrapped around her from earlier? Was she cradling a pillow?

“I think a villain deceives and lies.” Charlie paused. “Shows people one side of them while hiding the other. Because if the villain showed their true colors right away, there’d be no way people would root for them.”

Well, shit.

“So, how do you make a villain likable?” Charlie’s voice calmed from earlier, and the faintest squeaking sound of the hammock rope moving against the metal hook funneled through the phone.

Mack thought for a moment about her class material. “First, you gotta have them do something redeemable. Rescue a puppy. Help someone cross the street. Fix a stranger’s flat tire. Some action that shows they’re not a complete asshole.” Have them come into a coffee shop with smiles and big tips. “Second, you have to show a purpose behind their actions. Unless they’re a sociopath—which I don’t write—some justification exists that the reader empathizes with. A reason behind the action.”

“The method behind the madness.”