I kind of love him just then. Because I know, I know, he’s calling me babe to irritate Macon. It’s in his eyes and the way his mouth twists to hold back laughter.

“Do agents in this town take Cliché Bitch 101 classes around here?”

A muscle in his lower jaw twitches while Karen huffs out a sound of annoyance.

“Pretty sure they offer a special discount at UCLA.”

We both grin.

“All right,” Macon cuts in. “That’s enough.”

I shoot him a look. Tell that to Ms. Sunset Boulevard.

And he returns one of his own. Behave.

Make. Me.

His answering grin is crafty. “Later.”

“Later for what?” Karen demands in a snit.

“To perform my other services.” I dab the corner of my mouth. Because fuck her.

Macon chokes on a sip of his water. North, however, just laughs, a big booming sound.

“I like her,” he says to a glowering Macon.

“Well, I don’t,” Karen snaps before leaning into my space. “Watch yourself. I could eat you for breakfast.” Her gaze flicks over me. “Well . . . maybe for dinner.”

Rage surges up my body. “You can eat a bag of dic—”

Macon grabs hold of my wrist, gently tugging me back down to my seat. “Apologize.” For a hot second, I think he’s talking to me, but for once, his laser gaze is on Karen. “You’ve been antagonizing Delilah since we got here. Which isn’t a good move since she’s going to be around for the foreseeable future.”

There is a tense silence in which Karen clearly contemplates swallowing her tongue to avoid speaking. But she does, eventually, spitting out the words between clenched teeth. “I’m sorry if I implied you were anything other than a light meal.”

Oh, the things I want to say to that. But it will only make things worse. Still, the evil pixie on my shoulder goads me to give the woman a tepid smile. “Apology accepted. I’m sorry for implying you were a bitch.” I should have said it flat out.

A bare nod, and Karen is back to chatting with Macon, going on about numbers and scripts she wants him to read.

We’re sitting outside in the sunlight, and yet it feels like dark walls are closing in on me. I move to take a sip of my ice water, but a warm weight on my wrist halts me. Macon is still holding on to me, my clenched fist resting on the top of his thigh. A jolt goes through me, and I tug my arm.