Chapter 9 #2
"She’s…" I searched for the right word. Competent. Infuriating. None of them were the words I was looking for. "When I’m with her, I don’t think about it."
"About what?"
"The contamination. The dirt. The contact." I adjusted my glasses. "When she's in the room, when she's talking, when she…"
I stopped. Started again.
"In the elevator. When the power went out. She held my face. Her bare hands on my skin."
I let that sit for a second.
"And I didn't flinch."
Another silence. Longer this time.
"You didn't flinch," Adler repeated.
"She smelled like vanilla. And my brain just… filed her as safe. Without my permission. Without any of the usual protocols. She just went straight into the category of people who can touch me, and there are four people in that category and they're all blood relatives."
"And now there are five," he said, almost gently, testing the weight of it.
"I didn't say that." Too quickly. Like the words could be taken back if I said them fast enough.
"You didn't have to." I could hear him writing. "Jace, this is significant. You understand that? What you're describing is your nervous system making an exception. That doesn't happen by accident."
"It happened by accident. She fell on me in a farmers market."
"You know what I mean."
I did know. But I didn't want to.
I walked to the window. Looked out at nothing.
"I want to paint her," I said.
The words came out before I could stop them.
"I haven't painted in two years. Haven't wanted to.
But I keep seeing her expressions and thinking about how they'd look on canvas.
" My hand tightened on the phone. "Her face when she's upset.
How she looked in the elevator when the lights came back on.
The orchid pressed against her chest when I told her to get out. "
I paused.
"I want to paint her hands."
Adler was quiet for a beat. "When was the last time you felt inspired to create something?"
"Before the last episode. Before I stopped painting entirely."
"And now?"
"Now I can't stop thinking about the light on her collarbone."
"I'd like you to sit with that," Adler said. "Don't act on it yet. Don't push it away either. Just notice it. If an impulse arrives that isn't rooted in fear, follow it. See what happens and if the revulsion comes. We'll talk on Thursday."
I hung up and sat there thinking about everything that had been happening. The city pulsed below. The cube was solved in my lap and my hands wanted a brush and I didn’t know what to do with any of it.
The intercom buzzed at the front desk.
"Mr. Hunter, your brother is here."
"Tell him I’m not in."
"He says he can see your lights on from outside, sir."
Of course he could.
Miles appeared at my door in clean shoes, which he held up for inspection before stepping inside. "Fresh pair. Bought them today. Haven’t touched anything except the inside of a shoebox and your elevator."
"That doesn’t mean…" I began.
"I also sanitized my hands in the lobby, and I haven’t eaten anything with my fingers in the last three hours." He walked in and dropped onto my couch. "You’re welcome."
"I didn’t invite you."
"You never invited me. That’s never stopped me before." He looked around the penthouse. "You need more furniture."
"I have sufficient furniture."
"You have a couch, a chair, and a kitchen that looks like it’s never been used."
"It’s been used."
"Boiling water for tea doesn’t count as using a kitchen, Jace."
I sat in the chair opposite him. "Why are you here?"
Miles straightened slightly, like he’d been waiting for that exact moment. "The Miami Gaming Awards," he said, shifting into business mode. "This weekend. Hunter Interactive is nominated for three categories, including Best RPG. You need to be there."
"No," I replied immediately.
"You didn’t even think about it," he countered, brows lifting.
"I don’t need to think about it," I said. "A crowded auditorium, five hundred people, shared seating, communal surfaces. No."
"Jace…" Miles started, softer now.
"I said no."
"You’ve been saying no for five years. Five years I’ve gone up on that stage and accepted awards on your behalf. Five years of standing behind a podium saying ‘unfortunately Mr. Hunter couldn’t be here tonight’ while everyone in the room knows exactly why you’re not there."
"Then they understand."
"They don’t understand. They speculate. And speculation is worse." He leaned forward. "These are your games. Your success. Not mine. I’m the PR guy. You should be the one standing on that stage."
"Are you done?"
Miles exhaled. "For now."
"Good. And don’t get Mom involved. I know how you operate. One sad phone call from her and you think I’ll fold. I’m not going. Full stop."
"Ugh." Miles dropped his head back against the couch. "You’re impossible."
"Speaking of which." He grinned. "How did the Meridian meeting go?"
"Productive. The co-production framework is…"
"I’m not asking about the framework, Jace. I’m asking about your car ride with Anna. And whatever that was this morning."
"Whatever what was?"
"In her office. When you interrupted me and Anna talking. You looked at my hand like I’d committed a felony."
"I looked at your hand because you were holding my assistant’s hand during work hours. That’s inappropriate."
"I kissed the back of her hand. It was chivalrous."
"It was unnecessary."
"You changed the meeting assignment. You were supposed to take me and instead you took her."
"The meeting required different skill sets."
"It required note-taking. I can take notes."
"Your notes are illegible."
"My notes are creative." Miles was watching me with that look, the one that said he’d already reached a conclusion and was waiting for me to catch up. "Do you want me to back off?"
"Back off from what?"
"From Anna. Because if there’s something there…"
"There’s nothing there. She’s my assistant."
"Right." Miles nodded slowly. "Your assistant. Who you took to a meeting instead of your VP. Who you drove personally in your car. Your assistant."
"Is there a problem there?"
"Are you interested in her?" he smirked.
"Don’t be absurd."
"It’s a yes or no question."
"It’s an irrelevant question. She works for me."
Miles stood, brushed off his trousers, and walked to the door. He stopped with his hand on the frame and looked back at me.
"You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous this morning."
"Goodnight, Miles."
"Because your face when you saw me holding her hand…"
"Goodnight, Miles."
He grinned. "Night, big brother."
The door closed behind him and the penthouse went quiet. I sat in the chair, watching the city lights blur below.
Am I interested in her?
Dr. Adler’s voice came back to me, unbidden. What you’re describing is your nervous system making an exception. That doesn’t happen by accident.
Miles’s question sat in the room like a third person.
Are you interested in her?
I solved the cube. Put it down. Picked it up. Solved it again.
Twenty-one seconds. But my hands were still wrong.
Why was it so hard to focus?