“Long story short, I learned that my parents had nothing to do with the bike or the card.”
My expression falls. “No. Why would they lie about it?”
“I guess my grandparents were so upset Mom and Dad had emotionally abandoned me, they felt this gift would give me some comfort. They had been worried that with the way things were, I would turn into a wild and angry kid.”
“Oh God, how awful.”
“I was so upset when I found out,” he says, his voice still heavy. “I’ve never been so disappointed in my life.”
I stay silent, but turn around so I’m facing him and take his hand.
“The worst part is when they heard me in the living room ripping up the card, they realized I’d overheard everything. They were devastated. I’m not sure they ever got over their guilt.”
I gently stroke his face to comfort him. “They meant well, but that was not a good idea.”
“No, it wasn’t. False hope is like a disease that eats away at you until you have no faith left.”
“And that was your best Christmas gift ever?” I ask, bewildered.
“Well, it was for about five hours. And if I hadn’t snuck downstairs, it probably still would be.”
“That’s incredibly sad. It’s pretty remarkable, considering your upbringing, that you turned out as well as you did,” I say softly.
“I’m still working on it. I guess you could say I’m a work in progress.”
This time he runs his fingertips down my cheek and over my lips. He watches me intently as he does and I really wish he would kiss me, but he doesn’t.
“So what was your favorite Christmas present ever?” he finally asks.
I think for a moment before I give him a warm smile. “It was a dollhouse, an intricately hand-crafted dollhouse. It was from Santa and my parents told me that it was especially made in his workshop.”
“How cute.” Will grins as he rests his hand on my hip.
“Years later I found out that Dad and Mom made it from a kit they put together late at night. It took them several weeks to finish it, working on it in the garage after we’d gone to bed. Being the third of four kids, I got a lot of hand-me-downs, not just clothes but toys too. So having something so unique and made just for me was extra special.”
“I envy your childhood.”
“I was lucky.” I roll over to my back and gaze at the mantle. I take his hand in mine and press it down high on my chest, above my heart. “You inspire me, Will. You took a devastating childhood and decided not to let it define your life. Instead you’ve created something extraordinary that’s positive and makes people happy.”
“I suppose, but you make it sound like I had a master plan, and it was completely altruistic. But it wasn’t, especially in the beginning. It started by me trying to gain back what I’d lost, or even more so, what I never had.”
“That’s understandable. But now it isn’t all about you, is it? I’d say not by a long shot.”
He nods. “Yeah, I have to admit you’re right.”
“So, with that established … what in the world inspires you about me?”
“You may guess that I’m inspired by your beauty, that you’re sexy and smart. Perhaps you think I admire how hard you work… that you’re good at what you do.”
“But?” I ask, tensing up. I can tell he’s going another direction and I hope it’s one I feel good about.
“You inspire me because you’re grateful for what you have, that you admit your flaws but still love yourself. You inspire me because you do want to be more than who you are now even though you’re already amazing.”
“I don’t want to be shallow in any way. I do want to be more,” I whisper, my breath catching as I remember our conversation from several days ago.
“And you will be. I know you will.”
“You truly think so?” I ask, sounding hopeful.
He nods. “Yes. And maybe I understand it because I feel the same.”
I turn and gaze at him. “And I believe you will be more too.”
He smiles. “My dreams are always tucked just inside the edges of my mind. Careers and all that are important, but one day I want to be a great dad and the kind of man a woman like you would be proud to be married to. I may not be there yet, but I want to be one day. When I am, then I’ll prove that I’m stronger than my fucked up childhood… that I have it in me to hang in there even when things get tough, that I can be what a real man should be.”
What a real man should be? For a moment I forget how to breathe.
This time I’m the one stunned by the fireball of passion that explodes, showering me with thoughts of rolling on top of Will and kissing him until he can’t think straight. It takes every bit of restraint I can manage just to lay there like a living mannequin. He runs his fingertips down my neck and over my shoulder like a human navigation system. His wonderful wandering fingers head south and glide over my hip and down to circle my knee. My legs instinctively part as his hand heads northbound again, gliding up the edge of my inner thigh.
“You okay?” he whispers, leaning close.
I shake my head. “No, I’m not okay.”
“Join the club,” he says, pressing the evidence of his lack of composure against my hip. “I want to keep my promise, so I think I need to go.” He sits up, the frustration evident in his tight expression as he drags his fingers through his hair. “But rest assured, you have no idea how much I want to stay.”
I am speechless. Would it really be so bad if we messed around tonight? I shake my head, disappointed with my lack of composure. He’s doing this for me.
He scoots off the edge of the couch and sways as he stands, as if his legs are unsteady. “Thanks for this,” he says, gesturing to the couch.
I nod. “Thanks for coming by. I feel worlds better than I did before.”
“Me too.”
I get off the couch and step into his open arms.
He holds me tight. “See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, bright and early.”
Chapter Eleven
The next morning the equipment truck pulls up as scheduled. I hope Will has a better understanding of what to expect so he’s not so nervous. He steps just outside the open door to greet us.
Aaron bounds up to Will first, holding an extra large coffee from the local coffee house. He doesn’t even say hello as he gets right into work mode while the rest of us wait to get on the porch and in the house. “So, Will, we’re going to start in the family room. I want to get all those train shots nailed first. Will you be available to show us how the system works?”
Will yawns and nods. “I could use some of what you’re drinking.”
Aaron laughs. “It’s rocket fuel, man, I couldn’t function in the morning without it.”
Lindsey files up next and gives Will a big smile. She’s closely followed by Stu, Terry, and the rest of the team. I slip by third to last, and Will’s face lights up like I blasted his morning open, bringing the sunshine with me.
“Morning, Will,” I say, all Doris Day demure.
“Morning, Sophia,” he says, his expression smug like we belong to a secret club.
“Coffee?” I ask.
“Sorry, I haven’t started it yet. I’ve had other stuff on my mind.” He grins and raises his eyebrows.
I blush and look down. “Well, let me do it.” I turn and head down the hallway.
“By all means. My house is yours,” he says quietly as I pass.
Will waits a minute to head to the kitchen, and when he arrives, Paul, Lindsey and I are all in a powwow. He grabs a mug and approaches the coffeemaker.
“She’s getting here just after lunch?” Paul asks.
“Yeah, she couldn’t come this morning, she had some kind of early presentation. But I’ve gone over it with the guys, and we can make it work. It’s not a problem,” Lindsey says.
“What’s all this about?” Will interrupts.
“Hey, Will,” Paul says with a big smi
le. “Ready for another day of fun?”
For a moment I fear Will is going to punch Paul in the face, probably from yesterday’s stud portrayal. But just as quickly the expression fades.
“I wouldn’t call it fun, but I’m ready for whatever it’s going to be.”
“We were just talking about Helena. Remember, she’s the writer that’s coming today to ask you some questions on camera? George, our boss, decided that we should use her to tie the series of shows together.”
“It won’t take long.” Lindsey assures him.
“Okay, I guess,” Will responds.
We head to the family room to watch the guys set up. When they’re finally ready, Will fires up the trains and turns on the ice skating rink and miniature ski lift. What a delight it is to hear the little boy come out of every one of those gruff tech guys.
“I had a train set when I was a kid,” Stu says.
“I always wanted one,” Terry replies.
“I’d spend hours in the basement changing the layouts. Then to keep things interesting I was always setting my sister’s dolls on the track and crashing into them.”
“Nice,” says Aaron, laughing.
Stu turns to Will. “So you do all this shit, and you really don’t have any kids?”
“Nope, not yet.”
“But you get all those inner-city kids to visit, right?” Terry asks.
Will nods.
“So, you’re like a fucking saint,” Stu announces.
“Yeah, and did you hear about all his homeless stuff?” Terry adds, shaking his head.
“Are you for real? Or are you one of those closet assholes who tries to make up for it by being all generous and self-righteous in public?” Stu asks, half teasing.
“Stu!” I yell. “Don’t be such an ass. Are you forgetting he’s our subject?”
“I thought it was a fair question, and he’s like one of the guys now,” he says grumbling.
“I really don’t think Will’s a closet asshole.” I fight back a laugh.
“Thanks, Sophia. Listen to your producer, Stu. She’s a smart lady, Will says without taking his eyes off me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Stu grin and nudge Terry. With a toss of his head, he motions to Will. Terry snorts and whispers something to Stu, who tries unsuccessfully to cover his laughter with a cough.
I make a silent note to myself to be more careful.
The guys get to work and I step over to the village setup. I kneel down and survey it now that all the characters are in place.
“This is so great. Oh no, Will—two of the ice skaters have face planted on the ice.” I point at the apparent disaster on the plastic ice rink.
Will comes over and kneels down so our thighs are pressed against each other, then puts the little skaters upright and positions them over the magnetized track so that they can continue skating. The girl skaters in their fur-trimmed jackets continue their figure eights and turn as if they never missed a beat.
“That’s better,” Will says.
Meanwhile my leg is on fire feeling him this close again. After he left my apartment last night I had the rest of evening to think about him pressed against me and the alternate ways the night could’ve proceeded if he hadn’t left. The burn is moving through my body and making my heart thunder. I subtly press my thigh back against his
“So how are you feeling this morning?” he asks quietly.
“Really good. Although I didn’t sleep much. I was really distracted after you left.” I smile.
He grins back. “Me too.”
A quick peek at the guys assures me everyone is focused on their work. My cheeks color when I turn to Will. “Remind me to tell you about the dream I had last night.”
“Was I in it?” He teases.
“Let’s just say you were the star,” I whisper and then boldly trail my hand up his thigh.
“Tell me more,” he says with a deep breath.
I lean closer and press my breast against his arm. “You were naked through most of it.”
He swallows thickly. “Good, good, but more importantly… were you?”
My fingers tighten high on his thigh. “Oh yeah, completely.”
“Sophia,” he whispers, his eyes wide as he looks at my hand precariously close to the danger zone. “What are you doing?”
“Hey, Will. Can you show us something on this remote control?” Aaron asks.
I yank my hand away and stand. Good God, what am I doing? “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
Will stands and stretches his legs. “Be right there, Aaron.”
He leans in. “Don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry for that.” He winks and joins Aaron and the guys.
I leave the room to get my bearings. Geez Sophia, what was that about? Last night you agreed to slow down and this morning you’re all over him? Get a grip, girl.
Paul’s picking through the box of doughnuts when I walk into the kitchen.
“Hey, Sophia, how’s it going?”
“You tell me, Paul.”
He gives me a devilish grin. “I think it’s going splendidly. We got some good stuff yesterday.”
“Why did you portray Will as a manwhore in that last segment?”
“Ha, manwhore! I like that. If the shoe fits, honey.”
“That’s my point, I don’t think it does.”
“Come on, you have to admit he was completely flat earlier. I think that Q and A was by far the most entertaining. Besides, the viewers will love it. Mr. Christmas isn’t some geekazoid who wears holiday sweaters his grannie knitted him. No, he’s a stud who seduces women right under his well hung mistletoe.”
I blanch, wondering if True Blue has a secret camera in the house that caught us under the mistletoe. I need to snap out of it and refocus.
“Paul, do I need to remind you the demographics for these shows are seventy percent middle-aged women, and they do not find manwhores appealing in the least.”
Paul rolls his eyes. “Sure they do! Besides, me thinks you’re a wee bit jealous, Ms. Sophia.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?” I’m fuming.
“You think I didn’t notice you ogling his ass yesterday… and other body parts as well? You’ve got the hots for him,” he says smugly.
“Was that me or you doing the ogling?” I ask, trying to deflect his accusation.
“Well, it’s a given I’m going to ogle him. I wouldn’t be a self-respecting gay man if I didn’t, but I would guess you, my dear, are normally all work and no play.”
Lindsey joins us as she flips through her schedule and long list of notes. “They’re taking too long with the trains. They’re like a bunch of little boys in there. I knew we should’ve shot that last.”
“Hey, Lindsey,” Paul says, interrupting her rambling. “What did you think of the last segment yesterday where I brought out the inner stud in Will?”
“I thought it was hot,” she says, smacking her lips.
“Ugh.” I groan.
“Come on, Sophia. He’s a total stud muffin. The ladies are gonna love that because they’ll think they have a chance. It’s sexual desire meets aspirational fantasies. That’s a home run for sure,” Lindsey says.
“Exactly,” says Paul. “And who are we to tell them they’re delusional. They can eat their pint of ice cream in front of their wide screen TVs and imagine climbing Will’s tree.”
“Okay, enough!” I yell and turn to walk out of the kitchen.
“Someone’s got it bad,” Paul says to Lindsey as I pass behind him.
“Well she can get in line behind me. I get him first.”
I linger closer to the set for the next segment in the under the sea room.
Once the camera starts rolling, Paul heads right into the forbidden forest. “So is it true the mermaids in this room were inspired by a girlfriend who thought she’d been a mermaid?”
Will looks off camera and nods to me. “That’s true.”
“So, a lot of people think mermai
ds are sexy. Could you shed some light on that?”
What the hell!
“Uh…I thought this was a Christmas special.”
“All I’ll say, viewers, is I imagine Will has some great stories.”
“Um, Paul,” Will says nervously.
Paul looks directly into the camera. “So listen up, female viewers. Will may be a little shy, but I bet he knows how to make dreams come true.”
Will’s face turns red and the veins on his neck and forehead bulge.
I finally snap to attention. “Cut!” I call out.
“Why did you call cut, Sophia?” Aaron asks.
I step in and pull Paul aside. “I called cut because this demeans and objectifies our subject. I can’t allow this type of direction for the interview to continue.”
Paul points to Will and mouths the words stud muffin. He looks as if he wants to cackle with glee.
Lindsey grabs my arm and asks me to step outside for a minute.
“We’ll be back in a minute,” she says to the crew.
Once Lindsey has me alone, she turns to me.
“What. Are. You. Doing?”
“Protecting the subject,” I say with a huff.
“Hey, girl, can you step off your high horse one minute so we can get real here?”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Well, first of all, why are you being so irritable and saying Paul’s not being ‘professional and appropriate’ with the subject while you keep touching Will? This morning, every time I turned around, you were rubbing his arm or stroking his cheek. I mean, what the fuck! And you’re giving Paul shit for teasing him when you know most of this shit won’t be used. He’s just trying to get the energy going.”
“But it’s so wrong. He’s doing this on camera, and it’s humiliating Will.”
“Can we just call a spade a spade girl and get on with things.”
I fold my arms over my chest angrily. “What are you alluding to?”
“You want to fuck him, and you don’t want anyone else fucking with him.”
“What?” I bark.
“Oh, just own it and stop being a special buttercup. I want to fuck him too. So does Gia, for that matter.”
“That’s great, just great,” I say.
“But bottom line is none of that matters. What matters is that we have to get this show done, and it has to be top priority.”
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