“That book better not be about me!” Francesca was staring her down.
“What makes you think I’d want to write about you when there are so many other more worthwhile subjects?”
“Because you hate me!”
“Hate is such a strong word, Fran.” She hated when she called her Fran. “I prefer detest, abhor, and a few like-minded synonyms.”
“Bitch! If I find out it is about me, I’ll sue! You can’t prove that I had anything to do with Natalie’s suicide.”
“Touché, Fran. And you can’t prove the book is about you! That’s what disclaimers are for. However, the fact is that the flash drive containing her manuscript conveniently went missing and voila! You just happened to release a strikingly similar novel.”
“Coincidence, and if I hear you slandering me in the press, I will sue as well.”
“I don’t have to. I read her manuscript at her request. She wanted a constructive opinion. I encouraged…
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