Page 51 of Ideal Life

He was still looking at her, although now he raised a brow in question. She’d been staring at him, mouth hung open.

Talia rushed across the space between them and kissed him.

Sam froze.

And he didn’t kiss her back.

“Oh god,” Talia said. “Oh god, oh god, I’m sorry, shit, what the hell was I thinking!”

He rubbed his hand over his mouth, speechless as he stared at her.

Had she ruined their friendship? All those years spent building this incredible thing they had, gone in one impulsive, indulgent moment?

“Pretend it never happened,” Talia said. “You know how trucks make that beeping noise when they reverse? Let’s beep beep beep… Oh my god, I sound like an idiot.”

Her eyes shot to her watch.

“Talia, no—”

But Sam was too late. Talia wound the watch crown backward. Just a couple of minutes, but it was enough.

Kayla was cleaning up the long table where she’d had her snacks and cocktails on display.

Sam crossed to the other side of the floor where Talia waited.

“Congrats,” she said. “That was such a cool event!”

“Even better than I could have hoped.”

His face glowed, still on the high of how well it had gone. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled.

Talia averted her gaze so she wouldn’t see the way he looked at her, all soft and warm. She held her arms and legs straight so her joints wouldn’t go loose and tingly.

Instead, she caught Kayla watching them, probably trying to gauge whether Sam and Talia were going upstairs together tonight, or if Talia was truly just a friend, as Sam had told her before.

“Um, well, I’m really happy for you,” Talia said a little louder than necessary. “I should probably head out now. Lots of work to do.”

“Do you really have to go so soon?” Sam asked.

Talia knew it wasn’t like her to cut and run like this, especially not after he’d pulled off something big that mattered a lot to him, but she couldn’t stay. Not only because the mortification of Sam’s lips unmoving on hers still reverberated through her. But also because she’d promised him she wouldn’t rewind and change his life without his permission.

And that unreciprocated kiss was not something she could confess.

She gave him a quick hug with plenty of distance between them, arms barely touching, and whispered, “Have fun with Kayla.”

Then she fled the lighthouse, taking the book she’d bought and all her conflicted feelings with her.

Libby

Libby wore a strapless silver gown, and Jacob was in a tuxedo in the glass tunnel of the Umeda Sky Building, forty floors above the city of Osaka. It was daytime in Japan right now, but that was irrelevant; special-effects tools had gotten so good in the last couple of years that it would be easy to transform the backdrop from 7 a.m. to midnight. The sun could be obliterated with the mere touch of a finger.

The Umeda Sky Building was closed at the moment, which was why Libby and Jacob were here shooting the ad for the Japan National Tourism Organization. Sure, software could edit people out of backgrounds, but it was still easier to ask the creators to come in early when there was no one around to gawk. Libby had been up since four thirty to ensure her hair and makeup would be up to the task of the shoot.

Their job was to give the tower an aspirational feeling of the romantic and the awe-inspiring. The Umeda Sky Building boasted a 360-degree bird’s-eye view of the city below, but even though it was already a known tourist stop, Osaka wanted to do more to put themselves on the map. They didn’t want to be merely a day trip from Kyoto; they wanted people to stay overnight and spend money in the city, visiting Osaka Castle for its deep history (of particular interest to fans of the TV series or book Shōgun), sampling snacks like takoyaki and torikara at the Dotonbori food stalls, even visiting the Cup Noodles museum. And of course, going to the top of the Umeda Sky Building.

“We’re going to shoot videos and stills at the same time,” the director, Mark Yamamoto, said. “The idea is for you two to waltz around this glass tunnel, luxuriating in the view and in each other, while we capture it all in one fluid take.” He gestured at the half dozen cameras on robotic arms with motorized wheels, which would follow Libby and Jacob while recording and taking photos from all different angles. “Ready?” Mark asked, looking at Jacob.

Libby bit the inside of her cheek. Mark was no misogynist; he’d treated both Libby and Jacob with extreme Japanese courtesy since they arrived an hour ago to check lighting and other technical details. Still, little moments of bias like this still slipped out no matter where they were in the world, where people assumed Jacob was in charge because he was the man. There had been a lot of progress made in terms of gender equality since Libby and Jacob had begun working as creators when they were just out of college, but there was definitely still a ways to go.