“Make him a her every now and again,” she replied. “And maybe I might increase the ratings I left you on Amazon.”
He opened his mouth. Shut it. Glanced consideringly at the shelf, and then back at her. “I didn’t really intend to write one series for this long,” he said, with a touch of defensiveness. “I can’t just turn James into a her. I’d have to write something new.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No. But I’m under contract for at least one more Agent Talent book.”
“One doesn’t sound like a lot.” She shrugged. “But if you love writing the good Agent’s exploits, I can’t say much about it.”
He rolled his lips inward. “I don’t love him much right now. Finishing this last book has been like pulling teeth.”
“Ah.”
“ButShieldhas been optioned for a mini-series. Sales have never been higher. My agent’s pushing for continuing.”
She lifted a brow, simultaneously happy for him and dreading the thought of poor, fascinating Lidia coming to an undeserved death on the small screen. “No kidding. Well, what the hell do I know?”
“It would be interesting, though. To write a heroine.” His eyes narrowed, and he stared past her. “Someone different.”
“If she’s cool and very rich, you can use me as inspiration.” She shrugged. “I was probably in the minority, but I liked Lidia.”
“I can’t bring Lidia back…” He stopped, as if realizing he could, indeed, do whatever he wanted.
“Can’t you?” She leaned against the shelf. “It’s been ages since I read the book. But your Agent Talent never found her body, did he?”
“That would be a cop-out. Raising someone from the dead.”
“Why? Seems to me like you ended her story right when she was getting interesting. That’s great source material.” Her innate business sense rose to the surface. “Killing this series is dumb. If a show is made and takes off, it’ll funnel readers your way. A spin-off would be much easier for you or your agent to market.”
He nodded, but she doubted he was even peripherally aware she was in the room. His gaze was far away, his long fingers moving over the strap of his bag. “That might work. Maybe,” he muttered, half to himself. He grabbedShield of Sorrows. “Do you mind if I jot down some notes?”
He was already moving to the huge wing chair before she could give her assent. Hastily, he sat down and opened his bag, removing a scratched laptop.
“Um. Sure.”
He gave her a distracted smile, but it still made her heartbeat accelerate. “Great. Here.” He reached into his bag again and pulled out a wrapped sub, holding it out to her. She accepted it gingerly. “I hope you like chicken salad. If not, I also got ham and cheese. I like ’em both.” He pulled out another sub, but since his lap was occupied with his laptop, he placed it on the coffee table. Back into his pack he went and withdrew two cans of beer.
Intrigued by his Mary Poppins bag, she drew closer and perched on the armchair opposite him. “What else do you have in there?” she marveled.
He glanced down at the bag between his big feet. “I’ve had this thing since Kati was four. I don’t think either of us wants to know what else is in there.”
“Why, Jacob. Is that your mom purse?”
She expected annoyance or defensiveness, but Jacob only nodded. “There’s a reason moms need mom purses. My computer bag was the most socially acceptable conveyance I could use for the crap the kids needed.” He opened his computer and booted it up. “Now, eat your sandwich.”
She thought of the food sitting in the warming dishes in her dining room. Studied the way his hair fell over his forehead, the light in his eyes, the way his strong fingers flew over the keyboard. Slowly, she unwrapped her sandwich.
The room was quiet except for the noise of his typing. When she finished eating, she rose. He paid no attention to her. After throwing her trash away, she retrieved her grandmother’s box from her desk. After a moment’s hesitation, she returned to the chair opposite him and curled up in it, hugging the wooden box to her stomach and watching him.
If the weather was cooler, she would lay a fire. So cozy.
Too cozy.
All of it. The conversation they had just had, without a trace of stiltedness or weirdness. The setting. The peace.
The way she absolutely couldn’t work up the urge to leave.
I loved your grandfather, but he was a difficult man to simply be with. That’s the problem with your mother, Aki-chan.She can’t help herself.
