THIRTY-THREE
“I can’t talk right now,” Roxie said into the phone, doing her best to forget Greg was in the car beside her.
“Can’t talk now. Can’t talk last night,” Zairn said in her ear. Oh, please say Greg couldn’t hear him. “Hatfield still hanging around?”
“Uh huh.”
“That guy always had a hard-on for you and now he’s got you on his lap.”
“Not quite,” she said. “Almost, but not quite.”
Zairn wasn’t amused. “You know it’s Valentine’s Day, right?”
“Mm hmm. Can I call you later?”
“I got any choice in that?”
“No, not really,” she said, hanging up the phone before he could say anything else.
“Don’t mind me,” Greg said. “You can talk to whoever.”
She tucked her phone into her purse. “Yeah, right, says the journalist.”
“I’m an independent film-maker.”
“Is that what you call it?” she
