Someone Else's Love Story by Joshilyn Jackson

Author:Joshilyn Jackson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2013-12-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

I knew nothing about seduction when I started. Now, at least, I knew that I was bad at it. I also knew it required more than a wardrobe change, no matter what music videos and a thousand romantic comedies had taught me. Most of all, I’d learned it was impossible to give it a serious go without a babysitter.

I didn’t have one. Walcott hadn’t returned my last three calls. Another ­couple days of this crap and I’d get in my car and drive to Lumpkin County to see if he had died and forgotten to tell me.

I couldn’t invite Mimmy to Dad’s condo, even though Dad had cleared out. (He’d stopped by twice, bearing gifts, but he’d used the doorbell like a guest. He said he wanted it to be our place, for real.) That left mixing Natty in with my half brothers for Bethany’s nanny to keep. The boys all got along, and Bethany hated it as a bonus, but Oscar was recovering from a stomach flu. That closed that option off until at least the weekend.

William didn’t seem to mind me and Natty showing up and hanging out, but he didn’t try to jump me just because I put on my red Marilyn dress or the micro-­est of all my seventies minis. I tried speaking in a husky voice, and he asked me, “Do you need a lozenge?” like I was his wheezy grampa. I even tried to channel Reese Witherspoon, dropping a pen when he was behind me and starting a slow bend to pick it up. He stepped around and got it for me, leaving me jacked at the waist and feeling like fifty different kinds of fool. It didn’t help that I suspected Paula would know exactly how to do this. Assuming she wasn’t doing it—­and more—­already.

My time was running out. He slept less and went on long walks now. He spent hours at his lab, analyzing the cheek swabs and the bag I’d given him. He spoke as if any day now he would have a tidy file of facts for me to take to a P.I. and our business would be done.

I still didn’t believe that. I thought, instead, that the great god Thor would find the actual guy—­a name and a mailing address and a face. His identity would be the world’s worst present, wrapped in a bloodred bow, because then I’d have to choose. Once the Golem had a face, I’d have to decide what to do with him, or to him. What if I was the first link in a long chain of drugged girls? Could I stop him and still keep Natty safe from ever knowing? Part of me hoped he would be so distant that I would have no choice but to let it go. Like if he was in Alaska, or dead. Maybe even dead in Alaska.

God, I wanted to know who he was, though. More than that. I knew that I would know. My heart believed in it, in William, in spite of every rational thing my mind said.

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