Page 9 of At the Heart of It (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #4)

“I’m just relaying what she said,” Kate replied evenly. “But I was also going to share what the executives told me after we left the meeting.”

“Which is?”

“They want you. Badly. And they’re willing to pay handsomely to get you.”

“I’m not hard up for money,” he said. “Between the royalties from On the Other Hand and profits at the bookstore, I’m doing just fine.”

“I’m sure you are,” she said. “But the kind of money we’re talking about—it’s more than ‘just fine.’”

He didn’t say anything to that, but she heard an invitation in the pause. Kate reached a hand into her purse and slid out a large stack of paper. She stopped walking, hoping he’d do the same. He got three steps ahead, then turned.

Kate drew a breath. “We worked up a series bible and budget before we approached you. This afternoon, the network asked us to sit down and hammer out a new set of numbers. A budget that accounts for the possibility of you joining the lineup.”

Jonah glanced at the sheaf of papers in her hand. “I assume that’s what you have there?”

Kate nodded. She hesitated a moment, knowing this was a risky move. But the execs had told her to do what it took to get Average Joe on board. That’s what she was doing.

“These documents are confidential,” she said. “I’m not allowed to distribute them at all. In fact, I was specifically asked not to show Viv at this stage in the game.”

Jonah frowned and shoved his glasses up his nose. “But you’re offering to show me?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “I think you should have all the information before you make up your mind.”

Flipping the folder open, she let her gaze drift to the page on top of the stack. The word confidential was stamped in red ink across the top, and under that, the words Proposed talent budget for Relationship Reboot with Dr. Viv.

She flipped to the page with his name at the top, then turned the folder around so he could see it.

Then she looked up to watch his face. The amber-green eyes drifted slowly down the page, back and forth, taking in the information, the columns of numbers she’d seen for the first time only an hour ago.

“Holy shit.” Jonah glanced up and locked eyes with her. “That’s per year, or?—”

“That’s per episode ,” she told him, flipping the folder closed. “If the pilot takes off, the network intends to order fourteen episodes in the first season.”

He stared at her. “But that’s insane. That’s more than ten times what I’ve made with On the Other Hand .”

“I know. That’s why I wanted you to see what they’re proposing. This isn’t some third-tier programming on a no-name network. This is prime time, Jonah. The big leagues.”

His hand drifted to the center of his chest and he scratched absently at the edge of one pectoral muscle. Kate ordered herself not to look. Not to let her gaze drop even an inch. Not even for a peek.

“How much do you get?”

Kate swallowed. “What do you mean?”

“Are you being fairly compensated for this as well?”

She nodded. “Fair enough.”

“What else is in it for you?”

She hesitated. “A chance to do something meaningful. These books—Dr. Viv’s whole outlook on things ... they changed my life. Changed my outlook on relationships and the way I interact with the world.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “That’s a lot of meaning to ascribe to a bunch of paperbacks you bought for nine ninety-nine on Amazon.”

“I bought them in hardback,” Kate shot back, pretty sure he was trying to distract her again. “Besides, this show would be a big feather in my cap career-wise. A chance to work with my favorite author. Authors. ”

He smiled. “That was never really my book. You know that.”

“Your part in it was important. Just because you’re not the one with PhD behind your name doesn’t mean your contributions didn’t touch people.”

Jonah cleared his throat. “Speaking of touching people, why didn’t you tell her?”

She thought about pretending she didn’t know what he was talking about. But asking “Who?” or “What?” would just be a forestalling mechanism or a game, and she was too old for that.

“I didn’t tell Viv about the kiss because it seemed irrelevant.”

“ Beeeep !” he shouted, making the dog’s ears prick to attention. “Incorrect answer. Try again.”

She sighed. “Is this one of your spy-catching techniques from the Marines?”

“Yeah. We’re trained to say beep when they lie to us,” he deadpanned. “Come on. The kiss was not irrelevant.”

“Okay, you’re right,” she said. “Maybe it’s because it seemed entirely too relevant.”

“How so?”

Kate sighed. “If Vivienne Brandt is considering inviting her ex-husband into her television program—into her home, for crying out loud—it’ll complicate things if she knows the producer and her ex played tonsil hockey once upon a time.”

He nodded. “Now there’s an honest answer. A good one, too.”

“So you agree. We probably shouldn’t mention one innocent little kiss?”

Jonah snorted. “I was there, babe. That was no innocent kiss.”

Kate shivered, but ordered herself to keep her composure. “Fine. But now that you’ve seen the numbers, is your interest piqued even a little?”

He looked away, his gaze drifting out over Puget Sound. “A little.”

Okay, so that was a start. Kate slid her hand into her bag and pulled out a business card. Since he wasn’t looking at her, she pressed the card into his palm and watched as his gaze swiveled back to hers.

“All my contact information is here—my cell, my email, everything,” she said. “And in case you want to talk privately, I’m staying at the Westin in Bellevue. Room 906.”

Now why had she said that? It wasn’t on the card, and she hadn’t planned to just blurt it out. Jonah stared at her for a few beats, then looked down at the card.

“If I say no, are they going to pull the plug on the show?”

Kate looked at him, not sure how to answer. “Are you asking because you want to help her out, or because you like knowing you can kill your ex-wife’s TV show?”

He shoved the card in his pocket and met her eyes. “The fact that those are the two possibilities that occur to you means I’m probably not going to get a straight answer.”

“I don’t know,” she said, ordering herself to hold his gaze. “I don’t know what’ll happen to the show if you won’t do it. That’s the truth.”

He stared at her for a long time. So long Kate couldn’t help letting her gaze stray from his, drifting quickly down his bare chest and then back up to those amber-green eyes that seemed to be staring straight into her soul.

“I’ll be in touch,” he said.

Then he turned and walked away, the little fox dog trotting along beside him.