The Seduction Game

He shrugged as nonchalantly as possible, his mind in overdrive. “I’m seeing her again tomorrow but obviously everything is complicated by K.I.T. and the fact that I need her to sell. The whole development rests on it,” he said, almost as if he was trying to justify his actions to himself. “We’re talking millions of dollars already invested. I’ve got workers lining up to get started, to get moving, but until she’s out, I’m stuck.”

“Hmmm.” Jen tapped her fingers on her chin. “You need to be careful, Will.”

“Careful?”

“You don’t want to scare her off because you’re too busy thinking about work.”

“Of course I’m thinking about work,” Will replied, yet the words felt like a lie the moment they left his lips and left a bad taste in his mouth.

Jen tsked, her finger going back and forth. “And you need to realize that it’s not always about work, or money.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he began but Jen shook her head.

“You will if you think about it. You’ve spent so long taking care of everyone else maybe it’s time to do that for yourself now.”

“There’s more to think about than just myself, Jen. You know there is. There’s always more. People depend on me.”

“We’ll see, big bro. We’ll see.”

Will swallowed uneasily, hoping that Jen’s words would not turn out to be prophetic.





Chapter Seven


Kate pushed her glasses up her nose as she peered out of the window of the top floor of her building. The street out front was still and silent, just dust motes moving in the ever so slight breeze. She wasn’t sure where all the construction people had gone, but ever since her meeting with Will it seemed that they’d put down the tools. Her first inkling had been when her alarm clock woke her rather than the incessant noise of a drill or a hammer. She’d turned over in bed, took a moment to wonder what the hell was going on, and then padded across the room to take a look outside. Nothing. No one. Not even any of the project managers—conspicuous in their suits—were milling around.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what Will was up to. Trying to make a gesture. Showing his good intentions. It should have made Kate happy, only it didn’t. Like a lull in a battle, both she and Will were poised and waiting for the other to do something to gain an advantage. Great if you were the general of the largest army. Not so great if you were the force hunkered down behind a flimsy barricade and had feelings for the enemy that were far from appropriate.

“I feel like we’re Serenity,” Kate said slowly. “And Will and his crew are the Alliance.”

Meg snorted behind her. She was busy darting around, picking up tees, discarding them, picking up some more, discarding them. She’d followed Kate upstairs at four, even though she should have been manning the counter. Not that there were likely to be any customers, but still.

“Stop trying to stretch the Firefly analogy,” she said. “A simple, we’re the Enterprise, they’re the Borg, works. Of course, Will’s not really the Borg anymore, otherwise you wouldn’t be sympathizing with him, would you? Just saying, I approve wholeheartedly on that matter.”

Kate crossed her arms and leaned against the window frame. It was so hot on the top floor of her building that the only bit of cooler air was coming from the window. “I’m not sympathizing with him.”

“Uh-huh.” Meg dropped a faded Superdry tee and faced Kate with her hands on her hips. “Stop peering out the window. It’s painful.”

“I’m just keeping cool.”

“No, you’re being sad and waiting for Will. He’ll be here soon enough. Watching a boiling kettle does not make it turn red.”

“That’s not even how the analogy goes.”

Meg shrugged. “Whatevs. Point is, step away and let’s get down to some important stuff. What are you going to wear?”

“What I’m wearing,” Kate said.

Meg pulled a face, which more than made her feelings about that statement clear. “Okay, just stop already. You know your attitude actually hurts me, right? First off, more coffee? Or we could have something cold. Do you have any Coke? I’d absolutely kill for a cold Diet Coke with a twist of lime.”

Kate shook her head. “No and no. You know I stopped buying it after that article on the evils of aspartame. There’s water and there might be some ice in the bottom of the freezer, and I think there’s some pineapple juice left.”

“Wow, so spoiled for choice.” Meg laughed. “Back to clothes it is, and text me to pick up a six-pack of juice when I come to work tomorrow.”

“You’re obsessed with clothes,” Kate said, pulling out her Android and programming a text for the morning.

“Of course I am. Clothes show the world the person you want them to see. It might not be the person you are, but so what? Question is, how do you want Will to see you?” her friend asked, holding out a Ponies Forever tee shirt. Where she’d got it from, Kate didn’t know, but she was fairly certain it was not one of her collection. “Look, this one has little stars next to Rainbow Dash. It might actually be your most girlie tee,” Meg said. “Do you want Will to see you as girlie?”

Kate shook her head automatically because she didn’t have an answer to that question. Fact of the matter was, she had no idea how she wanted Will to see her. Strong and firm, and unbending, not girlie and easily persuaded. At least, that was what she would have said a couple of days ago. Now, though? Well she was almost ashamed to admit the truth.

She’d spent the previous day thinking constantly about Will Thornton. The look in his eyes. The way he’d sat next to her. She had replayed every word and gesture over and over, and then spent her time imagining stupid things and feeling fidgety. Will was the enemy, she had to remind herself. He wanted the building, not her. He was the man who’d caused her weeks and weeks of stress and tension.

Why was it so hard to hold onto that when he came to mind?

She sighed, her brain moving in a million different directions—none of them good. “That tee isn’t mine and please, Meg, this isn’t a date, so it doesn’t matter how he sees me.”

“I bought it for you last Christmas, and it so is.”

“You bought me those tickets to the beach cookout. I distinctly remember because you got drunk and puked all over your orange hair. I couldn’t tell where the vomit was.”

“Oh, well, maybe the Christmas before then. Geez, Kate, try to remember.”

“Meg…” Kate took a deep breath. “You def did not buy me that tee and this is def not a date. I’m taking this tour to get a better idea of what is going on. Maybe even assemble some intelligence that we can use to our advantage. Perhaps there’s a weakness somewhere in his plan. Something I can take to the city planners, or maybe he’s violating a million health codes or something. I’ll be keeping an eye out. That’s the point of this.”

“You don’t even get it, do you?” Meg said with an uncharacteristic frown. “It’s totally passing you by.”

“What is? I don’t get what you’re suggesting.”

“I know and that’s my whole point. Look, Katie,” Meg said, dropping the tee and rooting around in her very large canvas bag. “You can lie to yourself, if you want. If that’s what you need to do, but dinner wasn’t a date either and yet the next morning you were all glowing and happy.”