I can tell the exact moment Dante's eyes land on the sheet of paper because his fingers freeze. "Where did you get that?"

"Your notes blew off the table and I was picking them up." I shouldn't have looked at them, I know, but it's too late for such regrets. "Is this a character in your script? You're using this? Using me?"

He doesn't speak for a long moment. Too long. And when the words finally come, he talks slowly, as if choosing every word carefully. "Writers use ...