Almost Like Love (12 page)

“A turning point in our plot.”

“Not only was Ian good at sports, but he actually enjoyed them. This discovery coincided with the braces coming off his teeth, his skin clearing up, and his muscular development finally catching up with his height. In short, our hero suddenly had access to a coolness factor previously unattainable—just in time for his freshman year of high school, when his family left Brooklyn and moved to the Bronx.”

“Did he turn his back on his nerdy past?”

“He was fourteen years old and dating his first girlfriend, so we would need a word stronger than
yes
to answer that question.”

“That sounds like the happy ending to your story, but there’s obviously more. When do the tattoos come in?”

Ian hesitated. It had been easier telling Kate about his youth than he would have guessed, but he’d had enough for one night.

“Didn’t Scheherazade keep her head by drawing out her stories? She’d end on a cliffhanger so the sultan would allow her to live one more night.”

Kate put her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. “Hmm. So you’re saying you’re going to make me wait to hear the rest of the story? I have to admit, it’s a good technique. I’m already wondering when I’ll get to hear it.”

That’s when it came to him: the perfect plan to seduce Kate Meredith. It was a little unorthodox, but then, so was she.

“I have an idea about that,” he said casually. “Jacob’s going away this weekend to visit his grandparents in Philadelphia. How about I come to your place on Saturday? If you’ll supply the milk, I’ll bring the Oreos—and I could bring Dungeons & Dragons, too. It would be fun to flex my Dungeon Master muscles after so many years.”

He could practically see the wheels turning in her head as she thought about it. Everything about his proposal sent friendship signals instead of date signals, which should make Kate feel comfortable.

It worked. “Okay, that sounds like fun. I’d love to play Dungeons & Dragons. Maybe it’ll get my imagination going and I’ll be able to come up with a project I actually want to pitch to someone.”

He felt a twinge of guilt. “You’ve been having trouble finding a new gig?”

She shrugged. “Don’t worry about me, Hart. I’ll figure out something eventually. I always do. Of course, I wouldn’t have to figure out something if it weren’t for you,” she added, but she smiled as she said it, and there was no sting in her words.

Maybe she’d forgiven him for cancelling her show. He hoped so. Not only because he still felt guilty about it, but also because his plan for Saturday night would be a lot easier to execute if she wasn’t still harboring resentment towards him.

But even if she were, he’d find a way around it. He wasn’t going to let anything stop him this time. He wanted Kate Meredith, and he was going to have her.

Even if he had to use Dungeons & Dragons to do it.

C
HAPTER
S
EVEN

J
acob had a big smile for her when Kate picked him up after school on Friday.

“Hi, Kate!”

“Wow, you look happy. Are you excited to see your grandparents this weekend?”

He nodded. “I always have an awesome time with them.”

He was quiet for a few moments while Kate was hailing a cab. Then, after they’d climbed into the back, he suddenly said, “They asked me if I wanted to live with them after Mom died.”

Kate was startled, but she managed not to show it. This was the first time Jacob had mentioned his mother’s death to her.

“That was nice of them,” she said. “Did you think about doing it?”

Jacob turned his head away to look out his window, and for a minute she thought he might not answer. But then he turned back. “I did think about it, but . . . Mom wanted Ian to be my guardian. She said so in her will. I figured . . . I figured . . . if that’s what she wanted, then that’s what I should do.”

Kate nodded. They rode in silence for another minute or two, and then she said, “You’ve been living with your uncle for almost a year now. How do you think it’s going?”

Jacob shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

He didn’t say anything else, and Kate didn’t push it. By the time they got to Ian’s apartment, they’d started talking about the new Spider-Man movie coming out that summer.

Jacob’s grandparents were driving into the city to pick him up, and they’d left a message to say they’d be there around five o’clock. It turned out that Jacob hadn’t packed yet, so Kate helped him fill a suitcase while he continued chattering about Peter Parker.

The suitcase was packed and ready to go when it occurred to Kate that Jacob should bring a jacket. He wouldn’t want to wear it now, since the day was so warm, but you never knew when it would cool down. She grabbed one from his closet and opened up the suitcase again.

Lying on top of his clothes was something she hadn’t seen Jacob put in there, something that looked like a—

Suddenly he was there beside her, closing the suitcase again and pulling it away.

“I think this is all set. I don’t need anything else. It’s too warm for a jacket. I don’t—”

He stopped and bit his lip. After a moment, Kate sat down on his bed.

“Listen, Jacob, whatever you might be working on is none of my business. I’ll forget I ever saw it, if that’s what you want.” She paused. “But I have to say, what I saw looked pretty amazing. I’d love to see more, but only if it’s okay with you.”

He looked torn. “Well . . . I guess I have to show it to somebody sometime, right? I mean, if I ever want to do anything with it. And you’ve made awesome TV shows, and I know you like comic books.”

He chewed on his lip for a few more seconds, and then he opened the suitcase again. He pulled out the bound pages she’d seen and held them close to his chest.

“Okay, so, I’ve been working on this for a long time. Do you want me to tell you about it, or do you want to just look at it?”

“Why don’t you tell me about it first?” she said gently.

“Okay. Well. You know how a lot of fairy tales have wishes in them? You know, wishing wells and genies’ lamps and things like that?”

Kate nodded.

“Do you know the story about the monkey’s paw?”

“Sure. That’s the one where a couple uses the monkey’s paw to ask for three wishes, but they end up having terrible consequences. Right?”

“Right. There are other stories like that, too, about how people don’t really know what they’re doing when they make wishes, and how things happen that they didn’t mean to have happen. So . . . you know how people sometimes talk about what superpower they would want if they could pick one? Like flying or being able to turn invisible or have superstrength or whatever?”

She nodded again.

“Okay, so, here’s my idea. There’s this guy who can give you any superpower you want, for a price. But you can only pick one, and you can’t ever change it, and he won’t tell you the price until after you agree to the deal. So you might have to steal the Hope Diamond or something, and you won’t know until you’ve already said yes.”

Kate was impressed. “That’s a really cool idea, Jacob.”

He bounced a little on the bed, and she remembered his bouncing like that at the baseball game. “That’s not even the cool part. The cool part is, the people who get the superpowers they’ve always wanted don’t always like the way it turns out. Sometimes they do, but not always, because there are—”

“Unintended consequences?”

He nodded vigorously. “Exactly. So . . . do you want to see it?”

“Of course!”

She took the book from Jacob, settled back against the headboard, and started to read.

She would have found something nice to say even if it had been the worst thing she’d ever seen, but it was wonderful. The drawing was rough, but Jacob had a real instinct for line and form, and there was an energy to the panels that made up for their lack of polish. She almost forgot he was there, waiting with bated breath for her verdict, as she turned the pages and met the five main characters whose lives would change by the end of the story.

“Oh, Jacob. It’s fantastic.”

He flushed up to the roots of his hair. “Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“Absolutely not.” She closed the book and handed it back to him. “This is incredible. In fact . . .”

And just like that, inspiration struck. She actually felt goose bumps on her arms.

“In fact, I have a proposal for you.”

“What is it?”

“You don’t have to answer right now. But I’ve got an appointment at a network next week, and I haven’t decided what to pitch yet. The development executive I’m meeting with is known for taking risks with quirky, original projects. I want to pitch him your idea.”

His eyes were huge behind his glasses. “You mean . . . you think it could be a TV show?”

“Yes—or a movie or miniseries. I should warn you, though, that networks say no to most of the projects they look at. And if they do pick it up, you should also know that you’d be giving up creative control. They’d have the rights to develop the story in whatever way they choose.”

“Would you be a part of it, though? Like, as a writer or director or whatever?”

“Yes, if we get that far. But we probably won’t. Even if they like the initial pitch, the project would still have to make it all the way up the chain of production approvals. In other words, Jacob, don’t get your hopes up.”

“It’s totally too late for that,” he said, and she laughed.

“Okay, I guess that’s too much to expect. But even though you’re excited now, I want you to think about it for a few days. There are a lot of things to consider. You might decide that TV is too commercia
l for you, and that you’d rather keep your idea as a graphic novel. You could submit it to a publisher or even self-publish it when you decide it’s ready. I could help you do that.”

He was bouncing on the bed again. “I’ll think about it, but I already know my answer. I want you to pitch it at your appointment. Can we talk more about it when I get back?”

“Of course. That’ll give you time to talk to Ian, too.”

He stopped bouncing. “About that,” he said, his tone more subdued.

“What?”

“I don’t want to tell Ian. Not yet, anyway. When I first moved here, I used to work on my book out in the living room, and he’d say I should be outside in the fresh air, instead of cooped up inside, drawing. So then I started working on it in my room, so I could say I was doing homework if he knocked on the door.” He paused. “It’s just . . . I know he thinks comic books are stupid and he wishes I’d spend more time doing sports or whatever. So I don’t want to say anything to him unless this actually turns into something. You know?”

She knew, all right. Jacob was afraid his uncle wouldn’t take him or his work seriously. It was hard to show a creative project to the world—and sometimes it was easier to show total strangers than your own family.

On the other hand, she didn’t feel comfortable keeping anything about Jacob from his uncle.

Still, what she’d told Jacob was true—only a small percentage of projects pitched to networks ever got picked up. Chances were, nothing would come of this anyway. “I guess we don’t have to tell him right now. But if this actually ends up going somewhere, your uncle will have to be involved.”

“All right. Thanks.”

They heard the intercom buzz in the living room, and Jacob sprang to his feet. “They’re here! Will you come down with me and meet them?”

“Sure. It’s time for me to head home anyway.”

She carried his suitcase down and shook hands with Jacob’s grandparents, who seemed very nice—and were obviously crazy about their grandson.

She walked home, taking it slowly and thinking about Jacob’s story. One of his main characters was a teenage boy who’d lost both his parents. The parallels were obvious and made her think of the stories she’d written over the years that echoed her own dreams and fears and subconscious hauntings.

She remembered telling a fan at a convention that people have been telling stories for as long as language has existed, and that stories are one of the most powerful tools we have for navigating the pain and joy of being alive.

Apparently Jacob had already figured that out. Pretty impressive for an eleven-year-old. Of course, he was a pretty impressive kid in general.

And his uncle, she was starting to think, wasn’t too bad himself.

The next day, Kate woke up feeling like a kid on the first day of summer vacation. At first there was just a vague sensation of happiness without a particular cause, but when she rolled onto her side to pet Gallifrey, memory returned.

Ian was coming over tonight.

Not for a date, of course. For a game of Dungeons & Dragons, of all things. It didn’t get much more un-date-like than that.

So there was no reason for her to spend two hours that day cleaning her apartment, which was already pretty clean. But as she ran a dust cloth over her furniture, relishing the smooth patina of the different woods and the faint lemon scent of the cleaner she used, she found herself smiling like a teenage girl on the day of her prom.

She felt less like a teenager and more like a woman when she changed her sheets. It was impossible not to imagine Ian lying there, his big body dominating her queen-size bed.

Of course, she’d never see him here in real life. A game of Dungeons & Dragons was the least likely scenario for foreplay ever, which was probably why Ian had chosen that particular activity. She’d made such a point of clarifying the boundaries between them there was no chance he’d try to cross the line.

As she acknowledged that fact to herself, she straightened her blue silk comforter over the clean white sheets and smoothed out the wrinkles.

The silk felt good under her hands, like most of the things in her apartment. She always paid attention to texture when she was decorating, choosing to fill her home with things she enjoyed touching.

Thoughts of touching led inevitably to thoughts of Ian. Ian dancing with her . . . Ian driving her home on a motorcycle . . . Ian pushing her back against the wall and kissing her like some kind of barbarian conqueror.

All at once she gave in to fantasy. She threw herself onto the bed and rolled onto her back, closing her eyes and imagining Ian on top of her, pressing her into the mattress.

God, that big body. Chris was a couple of inches shorter than she was, and though that fact had never bothered her, she suspected it had bothered him. The few times she’d put on high heels for a special occasion, he’d always suggested she change into flats—so she’d be more comfortable.

But Ian was taller than she even when she wore four-inch spikes. It might not be politically correct to relish his physical dominance, but the truth was, when she remembered how easily he’d pushed her against the wall and how the breadth of his shoulders had blocked everything else from her view, she felt like a Victorian maiden in need of lavender water and a fainting couch.

Of course, fantasy was one thing and reality another. The list of cons for letting anything happen with Ian was pretty long.

Maybe Simone was right about her clinging to this one a little too hard, but the fact was, he had cancelled her show.

The two of them were polar opposites in a lot of ways, with different priorities, talents, interests, and values.

He was a Yankees fan.

She’d just broken up with her fiancé and needed time to recover from that before she even thought about getting involved with someone new.

When she
was
ready to go out again, Ian was the last man in the world she should consider dating. This was because:

He was not a guy who did relationships. It was widely known that when Ian hooked up, it was just that—a hookup. His liaisons rarely lasted more than a few weeks.

Ian’s aversion to relationships occasionally made the jump from her con list to her pro list. As Simone said, every woman was entitled to a hot rebound fling once in her life. And what better candidate for that kind of relationship than Ian Hart?

But every time she considered that point, she always ended up putting the item back on her con list. The truth was, despite her aborted quest for rebound sex that night at the club, she knew in her heart that one-night stands were not her thing.