"Why does it have to be him?" Elliot said, pacing the living room. "Anyone else, and I would be through the roof! Literally, we would have to call repair men, because we would have a 'me' shaped hole in our ceiling." *

Elliot groaned and tossed her head back.

"Seriously," she said. "Why couldn't the cover page say Jake Summers or Michael Jordan, instead of Beck freaking Daniels."

"You know I heard Michael Jordan is an excellent writer," Cece said. "Hidden talent and all. Apparently it was his fall back plan, if the whole being a famous basketball player thing didn't work out."

Elliot flopped into an arm chair, her arms dangling over the sides.

"Why did I agree do this stupid co-writing thing in the first place, Cece?"

"It was your idea."

Elliot flailed her arms around.

"I know that," Elliot said.

She stood and started pacing again.

"But why did I think it was a good idea? I don't like college students in general." Elliot waved her hand about. "I constantly feel inferior to them, because I've only been to high school and they know things."

"Opposed to you, who doesn't know things?" Cece asked.

Elliot stopped walking and looked at Cece.

"Cece, I'm ranting here, can't you let me do that without questioning my irrational logic?"

Cece raised her hands in surrender and sank back into the couch. Elliot started pacing again.

"And he's not just some college student. He's a college student that writes amazingly! How can I compete with that!" Elliot said, tossing her hands up.

"Aren't you co-writing?"

"Ranting Cece, ranting. Logic and reason have left this conversation ages ago," Elliot said.

Cece nodded as she pulled out a piece of writing and started reading.

"What really pisses me off is the fact that he knew that he was the right person for the job! Gaaaa!" Elliot said. "Coming in with that smug, self confident air, knowing he was the one. I should have punched him in the face. I should have stolen that stupid bow tie and choked him with it. I should have..."

"Don't hire him."

The words froze Elliot mid-step. She slowly looked to Cece, who was still reading the page in front of her.

"What did you say?" Elliot asked.

"Don't hire him," Cece said, without looking up.

Elliot stared blankly at Cece, her mouth opening and closing. Cece looked at her over the top of the paper. With a sigh, she tossed it aside and leaned forward.

"Look El, if he really bothers you that much, then don't hire him. Hire some other guy. Hire that Jake Summers dude, he sounds all warm and seasonal and stuff."

"But..."

"But nothing, it's your choice."

Elliot's shoulders relaxed and she fell into the arm chair, scowling at nothing. A moment of silence passed.

"I could simply not hire him," Elliot said, her face softening, her tone lightening. "Simple as that. Not hire him."

"Uh huh, simple as that."

The room filled with a weighted silence.

"Except it's not as easy as that," Cece said.

Elliot groaned and covered her face in her hands.

"It's not as easy as that, because I know if I hire anyone else I will constantly be reminded that the book could have been better. I could have been working along side Beck." Elliot looked at Cece. "I blame you, you know."

"Naturally."

"If you hadn't been a good sister and supported me in all my crazy ideas, I wouldn't have thought of this stupid idea. I would be writing another book by myself and I would be content to make it like all the rest. But no, I had to come up with this stupid idea. Gosh, I piss myself off sometimes." *

"I feel you there."

Elliot pushed herself up.

"Give me his work," she said. "Maybe it won't be as good as I thought. Maybe I was suffering from the delirium of reading too many things."

Cece smirked and handed her the papers. Elliot sank back into the chair and started reading. Half way through the first paragraph she tossed the pages aside.

"Dash it all!" Elliot said.

"That bad huh?"

"Better than the first time, the jerk."

Elliot stood up.

"That's it, I'm going to get ice cream," Elliot said.

Cece raised her hands, her expression going serious.

"Stop. You shouldn't eat just because you're angry," Cece said.

Elliot paused and frowned.

"I'm not. I'm eating because I'm indecisive."

Cece hopped up.

"Oh, in that case I'll come with," she said.

Elliot started for the kitchen.

"What are you indecisive about?" she asked, looking at Cece.

"An ice cream worthy indecisiveness," Elliot said.

As she pulled out two cartons of ice cream, Cece grabbed two spoons and sat at the table. Elliot joined her, handing Cece a carton and accepting a spoon. The kitchen fell silent as they ate, Elliot's internal battle playing across her face. She was pulled from her tangled thoughts when she heard footsteps. A moment later, Tristan appeared. Without a word, he got a spoon and sat down. *

"We see you twice in one day," Cece said. "Are you feeling well?"

"Make no mistake, I'm not here for you," Tristan said. "I heard the sound of spoons and the word ice cream."

Cece nodded. "Of course."

Tristan looked to Elliot, his brown eyes studying her.

"How are the readings going?" he asked.

Elliot glared at the far wall.

"I want to shoot my left knee cap," she replied.

"A natural response. Is it because you favor your right?"

"No, not particularly," Elliot said.

"So the issue is...?"

"I found the most amazing writer."

"Damn! I hate when that happens," Tristan said.

Elliot looked at Tristan, a smile breaking through her scowl, as Cece snorted. Tristan smiled back, his handsome features turning boyish with the action.

"Here's the thing," Elliot said, leaning on the table. "I could hire this guy and be challenged as a writer or I could go with someone else and be content to be mediocre."

Tristan nodded.

"Go with being mediocre," Tristan said, his tone even. "Why do anything to feel pride in yourself?"

Elliot settled back in her chair.

"You're right," she said. "Easier to deal with a life time of self loathing, knowing that I passed up a chance to write a great book, than deal with Beck for a few months."

Tristan stood and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm glad I could guide you onto the right path. I will now take my leave and the ice cream."

He grabbed one of the cartons, but Cece slapped his hand.

"Take the Mint n chip if you're going to leave with the ice cream," Cece said.

Tristan grabbed the other carton.

"You drive a hard bargain. Farewell unchallenged and mediocre writers," Tristan said, walking away.

"You know I hate you right!" Elliot yelled.

Tristan raised the carton above his head in acknowledgement.

"Why does he have to do that?" Elliot grumbled. "I was going to be perfectly fine not hiring Beck and smothering my talent."

"No, you weren't and we both knew that. You just wanted to complain," Cece said. "Now when are you going to tell him, that he has won the place by your side."

Elliot gave her a flat look.

"We're writing a book together, not getting married."

"You are walking into a binding contract, that ends when you decide it's over. Sounds a lot like a marriage to me."

"Yes, I have no doubt that we will fight like an old married couple."

"It doesn't even have to be an old couple. Any couple really."

Elliot leaned her head back, let out a groan.

"How much do you think I'm going to regret this decision?" she asked.

"Not as much as you would if you choose not to take it."

"I hate it when you're right."

"Me too, if I was wrong people would stop talking to me."

Elliot stared up at the ceiling and let out a huff of air.

"This should be an interesting next few months."

***********************

Elliot paced behind the narrow table, her footsteps burning a hole in the carpet. Warm sunlight poured in through the office windows.

"This is a bad idea," Elliot said. "I should just call this meeting off and make up some guy's name and say he wrote it with me." She made a face, her head bobbing from side to side. "Though of course, I would also have to falsify records and make fake social media accounts under that name, so people wouldn't find out that it was all a hoax." *

She stopped and stared out the window, a scowl marring her features.

"Which is less of a hassle?" Elliot asked, mulling over the idea in her mind.

Nina coughed.

"If my opinion in the matter is worth anything," Nina said, her tone even. "I would opt for hiring Beck Daniels. I don't look forward to finding you a lawyer if you were brought up on charges, for falsifying documents."

Elliot made a fist and scowled.

"Drat, you're right. Gosh if only I didn't have a conscience and artistic integrity, life would be so much easier."

"You're not the first person to think that," Nina said. "Though it's possible you are the first to think of creating a fake person to avoid hiring someone."

"That's relief, though I highly doubt Nicolas Sparks has faced that dilemma."

"No, he hasn't, but his bank account means he doesn't have to."

Elliot started pacing again. The intercom buzzed and Elliot froze.

"Beck Daniels is here," a fuzzy voice said.

Nina looked to Elliot.

"Elliot, I need to know you are serious about this decision. You will be spending countless hours over the next few months with the guy. This can still be called off, no damage has been done."

Elliot paused, her thoughts storming through her mind. After a long moment, she took a deep breath and nodded. Nina gave her a searching look before hitting the intercom button.

"Let him in."

Elliot sat as the door opened. Beck walked in and Elliot put on her best smile.

"Mr. Daniels, please sit down," she said.

"Beck is fine," Beck said.

He took a seat, his face unreadable.

"First let me start off by apologizing for my outburst yesterday," Elliot said.

Beck nodded, but said nothing.

"I had a chance to look over your work and I was extremely impressed." Beck nodded again. "If you are still interested in being my co-author, the position is yours."

Elliot took in a breath.

"Well, Beck. What is your answer?"

**********************************************************************

Woohoo! Chapter two!!

I'm dancing around my room with excitement, just so you know! I think the world needs more spontaneous dance parties, don't you? I mean the world would be a better place if people just randomly broke out in dance every now and then.

Vote, comment, follow. Go dance around your kitchen! If you're feeling really wild go dance around your yard!