Envy(82)

“ ‘ “Cruelly honest,” says Roark.

“ ‘Todd shrugs indifferently. “Maybe, but at least I’m not a hypocrite. Am I sorry she’s dead? No. Her dying left me completely untethered and unencumbered. Free. I’ve got no one to think about except myself now. No one to account to. Nothing to cater to except my writing.” ’ ”

Mike assimilated that. “So the white gloves are coming off in the next segment.”

“If by that you mean that Todd’s true character will be revealed, no. Not entirely. We do, however, begin to detect chinks in the facade.”

“The same way Noah Reed’s true character was revealed to you once you moved to Key West. Bit by bit.”

Parker felt his facial muscles stiffen as they did whenever Noah was called to the forefront of his mind. “It takes Roark only a few chapters to see his so-called friend for what he really is. It took me a couple of years. And by then it was too late.”

He stared hard at his legs for several moments, then, forcing those ugly memories aside, he referred once again to his handwritten notes. “Professor Hadley is also resurrected in the next scene.”

Mike poured himself another glass of lemonade, then sat back in his chair and assumed a listening aspect.

“Actually, it’s Todd who introduces the subject,” Parker explained. “He comments on how wonderful it is that they managed to turn that situation around. He says if he hadn’t pulled that trick on Roark, their present relationship with the professor might not be as solid as it is. He says Roark should be thanking him for what he did.

“Roark isn’t ready to go so far as to thank him, but he concedes that it worked to their advantage in the long run.” Parker took a breath. “This conversation is to inform the reader that Professor Hadley had seen such promise in these talented young men, he’s offered to continue critiquing their work even though they’re no longer his students.”

“Very generous of him.”

Parker frowned. “He’s not completely selfless. I have a chapter planned, written from his point of view, where the reader learns that he would coach these two young writers simply because he recognizes their talent and wants to see it honed and refined, and then, hopefully, published and shared with an appreciative audience.”

“I sense a ‘however’ coming.”

“However, wouldn’t it be a star in his crown if he discovered the next generation’s defining novelists?”

“In other words, he’s an opportunistic old bastard.”

Parker laughed. “Everyone is opportunistic, Mike. Everyone. Without exception. Only the degree of one’s opportunism separates him from others. How far is one willing to go to get what he wants?

“Some fall by the wayside early. They give up, or take another course, or simply decide that what they’re after isn’t worth the risks or the costs involved in getting it. But others…”

He paused and focused on a spot in near space. “To get what they want, others are willing to go to any lengths. Any lengths. They’ll go beyond what’s lawful, or decent, or moral so long as they come out ahead.”

Mike seemed about to remark on that bit of philosophizing, when he changed his mind and asked a question that Parker guessed was less incendiary. “Do you want to assign that much importance to a secondary character?”

“Hadley, you mean? He’s important to the plot.”

“He is?”

“Integral. I have to set that up.”

Mike nodded, seemingly distracted by another thought. Half a minute passed. Finally Parker asked him what was on his mind. “The pacing? The dialogue? Too much narrative about the Key West apartment, or not enough?”

“The brunette stripper on the roof—”

“Mary Catherine.”

“Is the girl—”

“In the prologue who accompanies them on the boat. Remember, one of the boys removes her bikini top and waves it above his head before they’re even out of the harbor. So it’s important that I establish in the reader’s mind that she’s a friendly, playful sort. There’s more about her in an upcoming scene.”

“She’s a nice girl, Parker.”

“The stripper with the heart-shaped ass?”

Mike gave him a sour look.

Parker cursed beneath his breath. Mike was determined to talk about Maris, and when Mike got something into his head to talk about, he would continue dredging it up until it was talked about.

Parker returned his notes to the worktable, knowing that he might just as well get this conversation out of the way so he could get on with the rest of his afternoon. “First of all, Maris is a woman, not a girl. And whoever said she wasn’t nice? Not me. Did you ever hear me say she wasn’t nice? She says ‘please’ and ‘thank you,’ keeps her napkin in her lap, and covers her mouth when she yawns.”

Mike fixed an admonishing glare on him. “Admit it. She’s not what you expected.”

“No. She’s taller by a couple inches.” He was on the receiving end of another baleful look. He spread his arms wide. “What do you want me to say? That she’s not the snob I thought she’d be? Okay, she’s not.”

“You expected a spoiled rich girl.”

“A total bitch.”