Almost Like Love(43)

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.