“The urge to do what?” He moved, but only to cross his arms over his chest.
“Have sex that doesn’t involve the shower, the soap and my right hand?”
She did her best not to smile. “It’s been known to happen.”
“Not with old girlfriends, though.”
“With who, then?” she asked, pressing forward.
“With girls—” He stopped, corrected his misstep. “With women, who happen to be friendly when I stop by.”
“When’s the last time you stopped?” She didn’t know why this was important, only that curiosity demanded she ask.
“I don’t know,” he answered without missing a beat.
“You don’t know the last time you slept with a woman?” He had to be bullshitting her. “Isn’t that something most guys notch on their bedpost?”
“I’m not most guys.”
Okay. She knew that. She also knew most guys would lie through their teeth before opening themselves up with that sort of admission. And if he was being truthful about the sex he hadn’t been having before having it with her… “So, the story you told me last night? About living in the abandoned building? That was the truth?”
One, two, three heartbeats passed before he nodded once and said, “As raw as it gets.”
Her heart shattered into pieces she was sure she’d never put together again. She buried her face in her hands. “You can’t do this to me. You can’t tell me that you don’t have family or friends. That you live alone and work alone. That you have sex alone.”
“Why not, Erin? It’s my life. Not yours. I don’t dwell on any of that. It’s who I am.”
She waved her hands frantically. “No, no, no. You told me that you can’t sleep because I’m there. How am I supposed to respond to that when I know that you’re so truly alone?”
How terribly he must’ve been hurt as a child. A hurt he denied, a hurt she couldn’t even imagine resulting from a truth so horrible she almost wished he’d told her his words were a lie.
“Alone, Erin. Not lonely. And I never said I didn’t want you there.”
Erin waited, looking into his eyes, knowing that couldn’t possibly be all of what he had to say. But his mouth had drawn into a thinly pressed line…his mouth that she’d only kissed that night in the mailroom. How could she not have realized that they’d never kissed again?
Why had he never kissed her again?
The office door burst open. Sebastian’s head came up. Erin jumped to her feet and whirled around. Cali stood in the doorway and wore the panicked look of a gunshot victim waiting to fall.
Erin’s pulse raced. “What is it? What’s going on?”
Cali’s eyes grew even wider. “Erin you are not going to believe what Will just found out about Courtland’s.”
C
OURTLAND,
THE NEW jazz café down the street from
Paddington’s, had announced their mid-November grand opening date weeks ago. What they hadn’t made public until tonight, or until last night since it was now the wee hours of Sunday morning, was their pre-grand opening.
On Halloween night.
Paddington’s anniversary night.
Erin’s
night.
Sebastian felt the urge to drive his fist into the mouth of the nearest trumpet or sax.
He couldn’t put his finger on the reason why, but he had a feeling word of Erin’s party plans had leaked—in which case his fist would make more of an impact connecting with the jaw of the suspect ex-employee. But he kept his suspicions—and his thoughts of violence—to himself. He needed to consider Erin’s needs, not his own. Though, lately, he’d found it difficult to differentiate between the two.
Strange, but coming to grips with that reality hadn’t been as hard as he’d thought.
Along with Cali and Will, Sebastian had come home with Erin after the bar had closed. The late hours didn’t bother him and he knew Erin was used to being up half the night. How the other two managed he had no idea. But he was glad the couple had been there for Erin.
After the intensity of the encounter earlier in her office where, having finally come to accept the truth of the past that he’d lived, she’d nearly fallen apart, Sebastian had a feeling he and Erin wouldn’t have made much headway toward a reasonable resolution to her problem.
But with Cali and Will as buffers, the four of them together had come up with a workable list of options to make sure Erin’s anniversary party didn’t put her in the red. Not that a single option on the list would have the impact of what Sebastian was going to do.
What he had to do—and would do for the reasons and the feelings he’d been fighting since the day they’d met. Reasons he’d refused to give credence because it shouldn’t have mattered that a woman he hardly knew was on the verge of losing her business. Feelings he’d refused to give life because loving her increased the risk to the only way he knew to survive.
Yet, Erin losing her business did matter, and tied into the primal response of a man’s need to protect his woman. If only they’d met at a different time, a different place. Too many obstacles remained for him to voice his true feelings—obstacles he saw no way to overcome. His entire career depended on maintaining his solitary existence. Yet Erin was about to lose the career she’d worked her entire life to build.
Even counting the personal cost, the loss to his anonymity, how could he not intervene?
For some reason during the foursome’s brainstorming session, Erin’s concerns about Paddington’s had returned over and again to her grandfather. Sebastian hadn’t yet figured that out. He hoped to get some kind of answer here shortly. Which was why he was sitting in her window seat, one leg stretched the length of the padded cushion, one foot dragging the floor.
Will had left earlier claiming the need for sleep. Cali, whose wistful gaze had followed him out the door, was still in the kitchen with Erin helping to wash up the group’s wineglasses and ashtrays. None of them smoked, but tonight it had seemed like the thing to do. Erin especially. Her stress level had finally mellowed.
Though Sebastian pitched in an idea or two here and there, he’d been a lot more interested in people watching. The dynamics of these three people in particular and especially how Cali and Will had both rallied around Erin as if they shared in the fate of Paddington’s.
What they shared in was the fate of Erin. The same trap Sebastian had unwittingly fallen into.
Interesting concept, friendship. He didn’t write about it a lot because Raleigh didn’t have friends. He had co-workers and informants the same way Sebastian had an agent, an editor and a publicist, as well as an attorney and financial planner. These were the associates with whom he “did lunch.”
He didn’t have anyone to help him pull a party or a plot out of the toilet. Richie had died ten years ago, but he’d never quit harping on Sebastian’s insistence on remaining a recluse. The aging inmate had badgered Sebastian every time he’d visited. Richie never had liked the way Sebastian kept to himself. Seeing him get involved with Erin and the others would’ve had the old man cackling.
It rather had Sebastian laughing at the irony. Richie had always said a woman would be the one to take Sebastian down in the end. He’d never believed it, of course. Nothing to do with his mother abandoning him in the first place and having any sort of impenetrable heart. It was just that vow he’d taken all those years ago to never rely on another human being for safety, sustenance or support.
For the most part he’d included sex in the equation and had made do with his shower. For the most part, because once in a while he’d allowed himself the need of women. He’d admitted as much to Erin, but hadn’t been totally honest. Had, in fact, evaded answering her direct question about the last time he’d had sex.
He didn’t plan to give her an answer because, quite frankly, it wasn’t any of her business. But that was the short meaningless response. The truth was that he didn’t want to think about sex that hadn’t meant anything when it was beginning to mean a lot with Erin.
He pushed open her window, listening to the silence of the city, realizing this was exactly where she sat when he was thinking of her from one floor above. That this room was where she slept when he restlessly paced upstairs.
His pacing of late was even beginning to get on his own nerves because it meant his concentration level was shot. And he really doubted fantasies of Erin would cut any mustard with his publisher’s legal department when he turned in this manuscript late.
Even if it felt like the best work he’d ever done. And even if he knew he had to take the chance on the new direction his writing seemed to be headed these days thanks to his muse.
Damn the bitch for making a mess of his life.
And damn himself for seeing no way out.
CALI PULLED HER Focus out of Erin’s parking garage at 4:00 a.m. and headed home. Considering the hour and the last four nights’ combined lack of sleep, logic said she should be exhausted. She was anything but. In fact, she was totally jazzed.
After Will had left the emergency brainstorming session earlier, Cali had managed to snag a bit of Sebastian’s time while Erin dozed. Leaving with Will would’ve been Cali’s preference, but she couldn’t go until she’d helped Erin wash up the few dishes they’d used. Or without making sure Erin was going to be okay.
Besides, Will hadn’t asked.
At first, Cali had pouted. Then she realized Will’s being gone meant she and the screenplay were alone with Sebastian. She couldn’t have planned it better. While Erin had fitfully napped, Cali had tucked her feet up on the sofa and pitched her idea to Sebastian sitting at the opposite end. He’d listened, but he’d kept one eye on Erin curled up on the love seat at his side. And that was okay. In fact, Cali found his divided attention endearingly cute.
In hushed tones, Cali had explained to Sebastian the version of the screenplay she and Will had on paper, and had then gone on to share her personal vision of the story idea. Sebastian had agreed with all but one of the possibilities she’d tossed out. And then he’d given her more input on crafting a plot than she’d ever expected. In fact, she’d walked out of Erin’s building with her brain reeling.
Never in her life had she wished for a mini-tape recorder more than she did during the drive home. As it was, she’d headed out of downtown with the light over her rearview mirror trained down on the passenger seat where, one eagle eye on the near-empty road, she’d jotted notes on her ever-present, letter-size, legal pad.
An amazing night’s work, she thought, finally turning into the narrow driveway separating the two squat buildings that made up her tiny apartment complex in midtown. A dozen efficiencies for like-minded cheapskates and starving student waitresses. One of these days, with the right screenplay in hand…oh, yeah. She’d be moving uptown. And she could hardly wait.
She cut the car’s engine, keeping the light on while she scribbled down several thoughts still fresh in her mind. A sharp rap on the passenger glass sent thoughts, pencil and pad skittering. Her hand flew to her throat, then to her heart. Nerves fired from eyes to brain and she finally registered Will’s face. A deep breath later, she hit the door locks and Will dropped into the passenger seat.
She backhanded his upper arm, once, twice, a third time for good measure. “You scared the crap outta me.”
“I figured you saw my car. You parked right beside me.” He rubbed at his newly bruised shoulder.
“Well, I didn’t. It’s dark and my mind was…elsewhere.” She reached back for her tote bag in the floorboard behind her seat, hoping to stash the legal pad before Will noticed exactly where her mind had been. “What’re you doing here anyway? I thought you were tired.”
“I was. I am.” He shrugged and then he smiled. “I couldn’t sleep. I’ve gotten too used to you tucking me in.”
Cali wanted to revel in the sweet feelings inspired by his admission; it had been so long since a man had cared the way Will cared, accepting her, wanting her. Loving her with his body even if he hadn’t put the feelings into words.
But her bag was caught up beneath her seat and she feared his discovery of her betrayal. At least what he would consider a betrayal. She considered what she was doing exactly what a good student would do.
“Grr. Stupid bag,” she muttered and tugged harder.
Will leaned toward her, reached back and freed the tote. Handing it to her with one hand, he reached up and tucked a curl behind her ear with the other. “That’s okay. You don’t have to tuck me in if you’re not in the mood.”
“It’s not that.” His touch made this that much harder. She glanced furtively at the pad before stuffing it down in her tote, knowing as she did that she’d just given herself away.
Will followed the direction of her gaze, frowned and slid the pad back out. He scanned her hastily made notes. “What’s all this?”
“Nothing really.” She shrugged. “A few ideas I was thinking about on the way home.”
“Hmm.” He continued to read, frowning, snorting, shaking his head. “I don’t think this is nothing, Cali. I think this is you going behind my back.” Another couple of minutes of study and he handed her back the legal pad, as if daring her to deny what was so plainly scribbled in blue ink on yellow.
So, she faced the charge. “You left. Erin was half-asleep on the sofa. So, Sebastian and I got to talking.”
Will nodded as if he didn’t believe a word she said. “And the subject of the screenplay just happened to come up?”
Cali shifted in her seat to better face him. “No, I brought it up. I told you I was thinking of running the idea by Sebastian. I don’t know why you’re so surprised.”
“I guess I shouldn’t be.” He slouched defensively in the corner of the seat, his back against the door. “Nothing I’ve had to say has mattered so far.”
“Bullshit,” Cali blurted, shocking even herself. “This is a joint project and has been since the beginning. That doesn’t mean it’s perfect.”
“I never said it was perfect.” He jerked his glasses from his face and rubbed at his eyes. “What I said was that I didn’t see any reason to ask Sebastian’s opinion.”
“And I told you that I did. That I thought his input might be worthwhile. Or interesting at least.” Cali took a deep breath, working to dispel her aggravation before it turned into anger. “I haven’t known too many people able to tell a story off the cuff the way he can.”