The Seduction Game

“I was not!”

“You totally were,” Meg insisted, sighing before pulling out her hair and makeup bag, then giving Kate a look that was part sympathy, part pity. “You like him. You know you do. Just accept it and stop making excuses. It is perfectly fine to like him. Hell, I don’t blame you. The guy is a super hottie and it’s clear he’s overwhelming you. The whole situation is making you feel weird. That’s fine. It even makes sense. But you need to work out a game plan. You can’t just drift into this situation, Katie, with some vague plan about collecting intelligence that probs doesn’t even exist. You have to have a strategy. A strategy for him, Will hottie-hottie. I’m trying to help with that.”

“Meg, I can’t think of strategies and game plans concerning him. I’m trying to save our business.”

Meg sighed. “You don’t need to save it. Thornton is willing to buy the building. We’d just be relocating.”

“Gah!” Kate threw her hands up. “I don’t want to relocate. I want to stay exactly where I am. This is my place.”

“And now you’re in a rock and a hard place. The business versus the hottie.”

Kate glared. “There’s no competition. Stop trying to make out that there is, because there’s not. There never will be. And that saying is wrong.”

“You’re being ridiculously stubborn. And I can say it however I want.” Meg clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening. “I didn’t mean…”

“No, I…” Kate moved away from the window, suddenly feeling guilty for taking her nerves and confusion out on her friend. They never argued and yet here they were on the cusp of a fight. Mark another issue up on Thornton’s tally. “I didn’t mean to shout.”

“Me neither.”

“Right now I just need to work through it all in my mind,” Kate said slowly. “I don’t mean to take it out on you and I do not want us to argue. You know I love you.”

“I get that,” Meg said softly. “But you need to be honest with me here. Be honest with yourself, too. It’s the only way we’re gonna get through this and I don’t just mean The Risings, I mean the whole thing.”

“I know.”

“Just take a good look at what he’s up to,” Meg urged. “Take it all in. You never know how you might feel when you have the whole picture. If Chris-the-sleaze had bothered explaining everything we might not even be in this mess.”

Kate nodded.

“Promise?”

She nodded again.

“Okay then.” Meg’s smile came back with full force. She held up a can of hair spray and a pack of bobby pins. “Let me braid you?”

Feeling like it would not be a good idea to refuse her friend any more offers of help—because she was just trying to help—Kate nodded and took the spare seat on the bistro set. She’d got it for a bargain price and suspected it was because it was really supposed to be outdoor furniture. A kind of wrought iron green metal, the little table and chairs fit perfectly in the little alcove next to her bathroom. No one ever saw it so what did it matter if it did belong in a garden somewhere?

Meg hummed and aahed as she began to brush Kate’s hair out, and the motion was oddly soothing. Kate exhaled slowly and tilted her head back, enjoying the feel of the bristles working through her tangles.

“Just relax,” Meg said, practically reading her mind. “Think over your strategy while I work your hair into something vaguely resembling a style.”

Her strategy. Kate started to snort even as the image of Will came to mind, turning the snort into something that was painfully like a sigh. She bit down on her lip and cast an eye around her small space, hoping for something, anything, to distract her. The plants needed more water. They were wilting in the heat, the leaves taking on a decidedly yellow tinge. She should also think about dusting. In such a tight space the grime seemed to settle all the more quickly. And then there was her work space. A tiny low table, flanked by two faded armchairs, held her Mac and a pile of papers. The very top paper was a letter and Kate frowned as she recognized it. It was from Will’s lawyers, and it wasn’t the only one. The letters had started coming three months ago and she knew the first one by heart. It talked about “an exciting new development,” an “opportunity to make a difference.” What it really meant, of course, was hand over your building and move on out.

Kate couldn’t even say why the idea had angered her so much. Why she’d instantly bristled against the prospect of moving. She looked around the miniature room that was part kitchenette, part living area, part bedroom. It was so familiar to her. She’d lived here since she was nineteen years old—the year her parents had died and she could no longer afford a dorm room. That was something Will Thornton could never begin to understand. With all his schemes and his developments. The emotional tug some things can have. To Kate, her building was not just a building, it was her home. It represented the only bit of security she’d found after the loss of her beloved parents. It was the place where she’d recovered slowly, but surely, where she’d begun to build a life for herself. She remembered Mr. Roberts from the pet store. There had always been some sort of creature escaping and more than one cat had been fed milk by Meg until they’d found out that cats actually shouldn’t drink cows’ milk. And then there was Lolly, who’d owned the florist shop. Her blooms were always wilting but she had made the most epic funeral wreaths and had done all the flowers for a well-known rock star’s funeral. They were the people she’d spent years of her life surrounded by, and yes, she knew the area wasn’t the most salubrious. Of course she did, but it was home to her.

Home.

Why should she give it up because Will Thornton had decided she should?

“There,” Meg said with a little hum, “all done.”

Kate patted her friend’s hand and checked out her image in the small handheld mirror. Meg had given her two French braids and Kate couldn’t help but smile. They were fab, even the little emerald-green bows she’d fixed to the ends.

“The bows rock,” she said. “Totally rock and you’re a star. I’d be lost without you.”

“You’re damn right you would,” Meg replied, enveloping them both in a cloud of hairspray. “Don’t forget you’re dyeing my hair this weekend. I’m going blue.”

“Ah, peroxide time.” Kate laughed. “Your apartment will stink of it for days.”

“Yep.” Meg tugged a braid. “I used green bows, fyi, because they match your top. Just making sure you’ve picked up on that.”

The doorbell rang, a different tune than the one over the shop. Star Trek down there, Battlestar Galactica up here. Which meant Will had arrived, and Kate was instantly and insanely nervous. Why, oh why, had she agreed to this tour? Apart from the fact that Will had confused her to the point where she could see no other way out.

But you have to deal with this, her mind whispered. Meg is right. This has to be resolved. She looked down at her clothes, couldn’t really call it an outfit. Her thin green tee reached her knees and although the hem was starting to unravel it was perfect for throwing over a pair of black leggings and then teaming with her Dr. Martens…her very student-like, completely battered Dr. Martens…Maybe she should have changed like Meg suggested. But no, that would be like saying she thought she should, and she didn’t.