Gareth narrowed his eyes before whispering, “I haven’t signed anything yet.”
“Well, you’d better hurry.” She handed him a pen from her briefcase.
He ignored it. “Please, as if I’d sign something you shoved under my nose without reading it thoroughly.”
Shit. Well, it was worth a try. “I wrote everything down exactly as we discussed.”
“I won’t believe it until I see it.” He leaned back in his chair, pulled the contract toward him, pulled out a pen, and began to read. However, he paused on the first line. “Social conduct for hate-free inter-colleague teamwork. For short: SCHIT. Are you serious? We’re not a team. It should be a collaboration.”
“Yeah, butSCHICdidn’t evoke a deep sense of satisfaction in me likeSCHITdoes.”
She could swear his eyes lit up with amusement, but, with Gareth, it was hard to tell. He had more control over every muscle in his face than she had over her bladder after a beer.
“Fine,” he said gruffly. “We’ll leave it as is.”
He continued reading...terribly slowly.
“Should I just sit here while you study the contract?”
“Or stand, or lie down, I don’t care,” he said absently. He snorted, crossed out a paragraph, and flipped to the next page.
Too bad. It must have been the clause where Gareth had to kiss her hand and give her an original compliment on her good looks whenever he saw her.
Gareth crossed out another line, added one of his own, circled something… Hazel was almost glad her phone rang, giving her a reason to leave the room so she wouldn’t have towatch him trample her new gummy bear clause –Party A is obligated to sort a pack of gummy bears by color whenever a contract is concluded with Party B, and to hand out only red ones to Party B…
“Hello?” she answered from the hallway.
“Honey, I have a legal question for you. Are you free right now?”
“Hey, Mom.” Hazel peered through the glass door at Gareth, who was still reading the contract. Did it look like he was smiling ever so slightly before he crossed out another clause? No, the glass pane must have distorted his features. “Sure. I’m taking a work break. What’s up?”
“You’re taking a break? You’re self-employed, honey. If I were self-employed and made as much money as you, I wouldn’t be in the office before ten. I only worked so hard so you wouldn’t have to!”
“I like working hard, Mom.”
“Hm. You’re probably wearing one of those horribly tight pencil skirts again.”
Hazel looked down at her pencil skirt. “Nooo.”
“That skirt will constrict your ovaries and you’ll be unable to have children, honey!”
“You overestimate the power of a pencil skirt, Mom.”
“I’m just saying, you’re over thirty, you should…”
“What’s your legal question?” she interrupted impatiently. Once her mother started complaining about Hazel being single and childless ather age, there would be no stopping her.
“Oh. Yes. It looks like I’ve been charged with a hit-and-run and could face jail time. That can’t be right, can it? Also, I’m supposed to pay someone a hundred thousand dollars for causing physical and emotional harm to his dog. He’s going to sue me if I don’t pay the damages.”
Hazel straightened up. “You’ve been reported, and might be sued, and you’re wasting time worrying about my ovaries?”
“I’ve got my priorities straight.”
“Mom! What the hell is going on? You committed a hit-and-run?”
“I didn’t think so! I bumped another parked car a few weeks ago while backing out of a parking space. It was only a scratch, I thought. So, I left a note with my name and phone number and drove on. Apparently, my trailer hitch damaged some important car parts, which weren’t obvious from the outside, and there was a dog in there too, which I supposedly injured. Mentally and physically.” She clicked her tongue in dissatisfaction. “I left my name! This can’t be a hit-and-run. And I don’t remember a dog.”
Hazel groaned softly and put a hand over her eyes. “Technically, it’s a hit-and-run whether you leave a note or not.”
