Overlooked(1)(16)

“How did they make him choose?”

I shrug. “They gave him samples of my editing work, notes that I’ve made on manuscripts, stuff like that, along with the other available editors’ work. Of course, if he hadn’t wanted any of us, they would have made an editor available for him.”

“So he thought you were the best of the ones available,” Zane points out.

“Yeah, I just got a bunch of paperwork to look over,” I tell him. “Non-disclosure agreement, information on the possibility of a royalties bonus, early completion bonus, things like that.”

“Sounds like what I’ve started getting down the line,” Zane says. “Stuff about reenlistment and what I can expect, along with what benefits I’m entitled to if I decide not to reenlist.”

“Do you think you’re going to?” I’m not sure why, but the question makes me anxious. What does it matter to me if Zane reenlists or not? I hadn’t even seen him for years until the other day.

“I don’t know yet,” Zane replies. “Mostly because I don’t know what the hell I’d even do outside of the military, you know? At least there I know what my job is, how to do it, all that stuff.”

“Well, I mean there are programs,” I point out.

“Yeah, I know,” Zane says. “If I wanted to I could go into college or something after…” he shrugs. “I just don’t know what I want to do yet. Can we change the subject?”

“Fair enough,” I tell him. “Who have you kept in touch with from here? Obviously not me.”

“Not many people,” Zane admits. “Matty and James, but other than them, I just see everyone on Facebook.”

“I’m about the same,” I say. “I’m still friends with Jessica, but everyone else I can see what’s going on in their feeds or whatever and that’s it.”

“Well, you always liked books better than people,” Zane points out. “You used to tell me that.”

I chuckle. “I guess I’ve made a career of liking books better than people at this point.”

“Not much of a social life in it though.”

I roll my eyes. “I get out. The company hosts happy hour at a local bar almost every week.”

“Yeah, but how often do you actually go?” Zane raises an eyebrow to emphasize his question.

I feel myself blushing and I can’t quite look at him. “I have plenty of times,” I insist. “Besides, my standards are high. That’s all it is.”

“Now that I can see,” Zane says. “I could see you having impossibly high standards. Hooking up with some guy who’s got an art degree. With family money so he can be an artist or something.”

I snort at that. “Just because my standards are high doesn’t mean I’m some kind of snob.”

“Hey, do you want to get out of here for a bit?”

I think about it. “Where were you thinking of going?”

“Just down to the store. Dad forgot to get something Mom asked for dinner and I said I’d go.”

“Give me a minute,” I say, realizing that I never put on a bra after my shower that morning, “and I’ll tag along.”





CHAPTER TWELVE





ZANE LEWIS



I fall behind Harper a bit at the store, more than happy to enjoy the view from behind. I did promise Mom I would pick up a couple of things, but that was more of an excuse to spend some time with Harper than anything else. I’m glad it worked, watching her push the cart in front of her, watching the figure eight of her ass showing against the dress she put on before we left.

“Do you dress like this in New York, too?”

Harper stops and looks at me with one eyebrow raised, in the middle of reaching for pickles.

“Mostly,” she replies. “Why do you ask?”

“You must get hollered at constantly,” I smirk. “I mean, if you look like that…”

“I keep my headphones on,” Harper tells me.

I laugh. “Oh, right. You don’t do much driving in the city,” I say.

“Almost none,” Harper says.

“Is the car a rental, then?”

We took mine, which was definitely a rental, but we’d had an argument about it for all of half a minute.

“It’s my car,” Harper says. “I just generally don’t drive unless I’m actually leaving the city. There’s no point in it, anyway.”

I remember, almost too late, that Mom wanted me to get mayo, and I grab it off the shelf and add it to the cart.

“So you just take the subway everywhere?”

“Or the bus sometimes, though it gets rougher on the bus in some respects than the subway. And of course, cabs are going day and night,” Harper replies.