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I’m skipping over a couple of pages, a little past the point where Viv and Jack’s caffeine-fueled banter is interrupted by Jack’s phone.
It seems that he forgot he had a lunch date . . .
Jack didn’t believe for a minute that this was the first time he’d irritated Renee since they’d started seeing each other, but it was the first time she’d let him know it. He’d normally take it as a good sign, except he couldn’t help wondering whether she was relaxing in his company, or following a relationship schedule.
Or maybe he was projecting. He’d dated a lot of women who pulled out the metaphorical training regimen and stopwatch after the third or fourth date, as if they’d stopped enjoying themselves and started recording distance, time, and pace. He knew perfectly well what they were expecting at the finish line, and he wasn’t particularly interested in crossing it.
It wasn’t that he was anti-marriage or didn’t believe there was a woman who was The One for him, but he assumed she would show up eventually and wasn’t particularly disappointed that she hadn’t. Until she did, he didn’t see why he couldn’t have mutual fun with the other ones—who were, he had to admit, usually tens.
Like Renee, a tall, willowy brunette with sleek cropped hair, intense blue eyes, and a wide smile that had sold a lot of toothpaste, floss, and whitening strips for Twinkleclean Holdings LTD, won the agency its second gold ADDY for the Beautystain lipstick campaign, and had captured Jack’s interest during the casting for the HappyCool popsicles commercial—though the client’s wife had vetoed her in the final round after viewing the video.
Not sure about the flow of the first two paragraphs, but that’s a second draft worry, right?
I’m also not sure I like Renee’s name—not that Renee isn’t a lovely name and that lovely people don’t go by it, but I’m not sure it’s right for the character. Possibly because it’s a lovely name and the character herself irritates the bewhosis out of me.
I do know why Jack likes her—I swear I have no idea where the last phrase in that last sentence came from, Mom . . .
To attempt an awkward segue, I also know that if any of you would like to have a chance to win a $25.00 gift card to the awesome indie bookstore Powell’s (good for online ordering, too), you have until Midnight CST tonight to enter my Second Annual Chrishanukwanzmadanfestivus Contest. It’s a remarkable silly contest that goes great with spiked egg nog, so why not give it a go?
C’mon—it’ll be fun!