by A C Warneke
“I usually like cats,” she told him, keeping an eye on the demon creature as he sauntered into the room while she stirred the batter. “But you, Angelico, are an absolute nightmare. You locked me out on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Mmreow,” he meowed and she realized she was losing her freaking mind, conversing with a cat. He twined himself around her legs as a low, throaty purr emanated from his white, furry body.
“If you trip me, I swear to god I’ll throw you in the oven with these brownies,” she threatened. “And then how do you expect me to get into Harrison’s good graces if there’s cat hair in his brownies?”
With a sigh, she realized it might take more than a plate of brownies to make up for throwing a book at him. It would just have to do for now because once the brownies were done, she was going to have to get some sleep.
She still had to go into town in the afternoon and see if she could get her old job at Jesters back, just one or two nights a week… until she remembered that Maris had been in the process of selling the restaurant the last time Ana was there. It was still worth looking into because she wanted to earn some spending money for when she moved out to L.A. It was going to be expensive living in California but her internship had some pretty impressive perks and there was no way she could pass up such an opportunity. In addition to working at the talent agency that boasted such actors like Winter Mitchell and Addison Holmes, as well as several musicians, they were providing her with room and board. She’d be living in an apartment with one other girl but after the dorms, that would be a piece of cake. One roommate was a hell of a lot easier to deal with than four, even if her new roomie was a wannabe diva. After the drama of dorm living, Ana was fairly certain she could handle almost anything.
In the back of her mind was another reason for accepting the internship but it was childish and she knew it. She hoped that when she was out there, she’d be able to find out who her father was, even if her mother had given her nothing concrete to go on. He was a musician in a band and he had green eyes, the same green eyes that she had. In her wildest imaginations, she’d be at a party in L.A. and her dad would be there and the moment their eyes met, she’d know. Of course, he’d welcome her with open arms and everything afterwards would be peaches and gravy.
She knew it was foolish and it was pure fantasy but it had gotten her through the difficult years after she had that huge blow out fight with her mother when she was a bratty teenager. God, sometimes she missed the relationship she once had with her mother but she didn’t know how to fix it, not when she felt she barely knew her mother at all anymore. Yet it was her mother who had installed in her a love of reading and artistry. Heather Smithfield had also ruined her for traditional schooling, which Ana learned when she went to live with her grandparents. After the adventures in Europe, of learning history and art first hand, high school had seemed so… colorless.
Ana had carved out a small place for herself in the art and drama department, spending most of her time perfecting her makeup and costuming techniques. While her friends were flamboyant and outgoing, she was content sitting in the wings of the stage and watching. Of course, she had had her moments of rebelliousness, from the discreet butterfly and rose tattoo of her favorite band on her ankle to her belly button piercing. But she always swore she wasn’t going to end up like her mother, chasing after second rate rock stars and not knowing who the father of her baby was.
As exciting as bad boys were to flirt with and occasionally kiss, she’d never seriously consider dating one. In real life, most bad boys were just assholes with no heart of gold and the ones that did have hearts of gold were usually taken. Besides, she doubted she had what it took to tame a bad boy and she didn’t have the patience to try. No, she much preferred the protective, heroic type, like Mr. Darcy or her aunt’s neighbor, the type her mother had always romanticized before Ana learned the truth.
Pouring the batter into the pan, she eyed the cat, who had realized she wasn’t going to feed him and had gone back to washing himself. “I bet you don’t know who your father is either, do you? But you’re a cat and I doubt you care.”
He just blinked his pale eyes and went back to being a cat.
As the brownies baked, she sat down at the counter wishing she had kept hold of the book. She wanted to go back and re-read a few of her favorite scenes. Eying the door, she wondered how pissed off he’d be if she asked for the book back when she handed him the brownies, assuming he had the book. Maybe she could make a stew for him as well. Then she’d invite herself in and the three of them could have dinner together and she was getting way, way ahead of herself. Hell, she was heading into stalker territory.
Maybe she’d save the stew for the weekend, give him a few days to cool down so he’d be more likely to give her back the book. He’d probably be more likely to answer her questions if he hadn’t been brutally woken from his sleep as well.
Drumming her nails on the table, she wondered what else she could do while she waited for the brownies to finish baking. Glancing at the clock, she figured the brownies would be done around seven and she’d be able to take them over at seven thirty so Harrison and Jolie could enjoy them while they were still warm. When she returned home, she’d take a nap before heading into town.
*****
As Harrison rushed around trying to get Jolie ready for school, the doorbell rang and he knew without even needing to look who was going to be on the other side. He tried to tamp down the part of him that was excited to see her, reminding himself that she was way, way too young for him, but it was no use. Setting his face into a grim expression, he opened the door and almost forgot his name. She was standing there with a bright smile on her face and a plate of steaming brownies that smelled like heaven.
“Good morning,” she called out cheerfully, pushing her way into his house without waiting for an invitation. He had to take a moment as the smell of chocolate and strawberries filled his nostrils, giving him all sorts of naughty ideas. “I hope you’re hungry because I brought brownies.”
“Uh huh,” he managed, staring after the human whirlwind as she made her way to the kitchen. Shaking his head, trying to clear the cobwebs away before she took over his house, he followed after her a moment later. He made it in time to watch as she put the pan down and then slid a brownie onto a small plate. She had already taken her jacket off and he was secretly thrilled to see that she was still wearing his clothes.
“Good morning, Jolie,” Ana smiled as she handed the plate to Jolie, whose eyes were as wide and confused as his had to be. “We didn’t formally meet last night… this morning. I’m Ana, your neighbor for the next couple of months.”
She was only staying for a couple of months? Why did that disappoint him? He should be glad that he’d only have to endure the torment of her proximity for such a short time. After their early morning encounter, he had had some… interesting dreams when he had fallen asleep at his desk. If he wasn’t careful, he’d do something foolish and give into this insane attraction. He could only watch as she got out the milk and poured a glass for Jolie, chattering away a mile a minute.
“So, what are you going to dress up as for Halloween?” Ana asked, putting a brownie onto a second plate and handing it to him. Absently he took it, unable to tear his gaze away from her animated face.
“I want to dress up as a zombie but daddy says he doesn’t want me to wear a mask because the eye holes are never in the right place and he doesn’t have time to do my makeup,” Jolie said, talking to Ana like they were old friends, which was surprising. Usually, Jolie was quite shy and took days to warm up to strangers. If she ever warmed up at all. “So I guess I’ll be a princess again.”
“I can do your makeup to make you look like a zombie so no mask is needed,” Ana offered, handing Harrison a glass of milk, which he took in his other hand with as much attention as he had taken the brownie. As much as he appreciated the fact that she was talking with his daughter, he kind of wished she’d talk to him. Sitting dow
n at the table next to Jolie, she continued, “I did makeup and costumes in school and I can do a mean zombie. You’ll scare all of the other trick-or-treaters.”
Jolie’s eyes lit up at the news while Harrison grimaced at the reminder of how very young Ana was. Then Jolie’s face fell as she glanced at him and the familiar guilt ate away at him because he knew what the next words out of her mouth were going to be. “But daddy has to work and I don’t think grandma would take me if I was a zombie.”
“No worries,” Ana said, smiling at Jolie. “I’ll take you out. Unless you have a party you want to attend? Or a haunted house you want to explore?”
“That’s really not necessary,” Harrison said, his voice rough. At Jolie’s look of disappointment, he quickly added, “But I appreciate it. Um, the hours for trick or treating are six to eight. The town doesn’t like the little ones staying out too late.”
Ana scrunched up her nose at that but her smile never faltered, “Six to eight, okay.” Turning back to Jolie, she said, “I’ll come over around three and we can get you ready.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t take three hours to do make up,” Harrison scoffed.
“Of course not,” she beamed, finally giving him her full attention and making him forget to breathe. Even as she spoke, delicate color stained her cheeks and he thought she was probably the loveliest creature he had seen in ages. In his book, Justice had spent a single day with her and already she had set the necromancer’s world on end. Of course, he had just been brought back from the grave so that was to be expected. He wondered what Ana would think if she knew she was responsible for Justice’s resurrection? “But we have to make up our plan of attack so we can hit the most houses.”
“Are you going to dress up, too?” he asked, picturing her in one of those too sexy Halloween costumes, the ones that were all fishnet tights and corsets and not much else. He’d like to trick or treat her…. Jesus, he needed to slam his face against a brick wall and get it through his thick head that she was not for him.
“Of course,” she answered. “I’ll be Jolie’s zombie sister.”
“The two of you don’t look anything alike,” he blurted even though he liked the way the two of them looked together.
“When I’m done, you’ll hardly be able to tell us apart.”
Jolie giggled, “Except you’ll be tall and I’ll be short.”
“There is that,” Ana grinned. “I have the best recipe for fake blood… I hope you have clothes you don’t mind getting ruined.”
Harrison groaned at Ana’s enthusiasm. And then he looked at the clock and groaned again. Setting down the plate and glass, grabbing up Jolie’s backpack, he said, “We have to get you to the bus stop right now or you’ll miss the bus.”
“Okay,” Jolie said on a sigh as she stood up. Giving Ana an impromptu hug, she added, “Maybe you can come over later and we can play video games or something.”
“Anytime, sweetie,” Ana assured her, returning the hug with only the slightest hesitation.
As soon as the bus picked up his daughter, Harrison returned to the house, to his kitchen, and found Ana still sitting at the table picking at her brownie. When she realized he was standing there, she looked up and gave him that heart-stopping smile. Motioning towards the seat next to her, she said, “You never even tried your brownie.”
“She’s never actually watched a zombie movie,” Harrison felt the need to explain. “I mean, she’s eight. But my brother is obsessed with zombies and Jolie adores her uncle, so….”
Her understanding look turned his brain to mush and if he wasn’t careful, he’d become a flesh-eating zombie, as long as Ana was on the menu. Sitting down, keeping his eyes on her as if she might disappear at any moment, he said, “You take my breath away, Ana.”
Fuck, where the hell did that come from? At her pleased smile, he realized it was the absolute worst thing he could have said. She was young, impressionable, and he had no right encouraging her. Clearing his throat, he added, “I mean, you came in here with fresh brownies and just made yourself at home. Are you sure you’ve never been in this house before yesterday?”
“Was it really only yesterday?” she asked with an adorable little frown pulling her eyebrows together. “Right because I read your book last night. I’m still pissed about that, you know.”
“I am aware,” he said with a smile because he couldn’t help himself. “Luckily, I’m less pissed than I was this morning.”
Heaving a sigh, she let her shoulders relax, “Thank god. I figured homemade brownies would help.”
“It wasn’t the brownies,” he said, taking a bite. Dear god, he might have to reconsider his previous words. Maybe he could convince her he was still pissed and it would take weeks of brownies to make it up to him. “Though I wouldn’t say no to a few dozen more. When did you find time to make them?”
Her smile made him re-reconsider his words. It was definitely her and not her brownies. “I couldn’t go back to sleep after I read your book and since I prefer baking to cleaning….” She shrugged her shoulders and continued on, “I also wanted to apologize for dragging you out of bed by screaming at you.”
“I was already awake,” he admitted. At her look, he explained, “I’m working nights for the next couple of weeks and since I don’t like switching my sleep schedules, I was writing last night. This morning.”
Her eyes widened in excitement as she leaned closer, “The next Justice novel?”
“What else?” He couldn’t resist teasing her, even though he knew better. Leaning closer to her until they were almost touching but not quite, he lowered his voice, “Of course, Justice is dead so….”
She swatted at him as she sat back in her chair and laughed, “So what? Are you going to do a Justice novel without Justice? How would that even work?”
“Very carefully,” he grinned, polishing off the brownie and reaching for another one. But the tempting minx grabbed the plate and pulled it out of his reach. At her mutinous glare, he chuckled and reached a little further, snagging one despite her efforts to stop him. Taking a bite, talking with his mouth full, he said, “Though I might bring him back in a dream sequence or flashback or something.”
“I’ll never make you another brownie again,” she vowed dramatically, her eyes sparkling with laughter.
“Yes but I’m sure I could get Jolie to ask you to make some and I doubt you’d be able to refuse her anything.” He took another bite and his eyes closed as he groaned in appreciation. Looking at her from beneath heavy lids, he admitted, “I’m not above using my daughter to get more of these.”
“You’re probably right,” she conceded on a sigh. “But I will only make them under duress.”
“Fair enough,” he grinned, enjoying himself more than he had in a long, long time. It was easy to forget she was too young when she was so charming. “Just so long as I have brownies.”
Catching her lower lip between her teeth, watching him with those amazing eyes, she leaned forward and asked, “If I bring you lots of brownies, would you reconsider having more of Justice in your next book than just a measly dream sequence?”
“I might,” he answered evasively since the entire book was about Justice. But she didn’t need to know that.
“What if I offered to make cupcakes or caramels?” she offered, hope glistening in her eyes.
“Caramels would not be unappreciated,” he said casually, trying not to give away the fact that for caramels, she could have just about anything she wanted.
Leaning even closer, she asked, “And if I made them covered in chocolate?”
His mouth watered and a groan escaped before he could stop it. At her delighted chuckle, he looked at her and shook his head, trying to regain some sense of sanity. “What did you mean when you said you were only going to be here for a few months?”
“I’m moving out to L.A. after Christmas,” she said. Her brow puckered slightly as she added, “Hopefully the roads will be clear otherwise I might have to leave so
oner.”
“Are you going to try your luck as an actress?” he asked, his stomach tight at the thought of her going out there and losing that spark that made her so unique. At her look, he remembered the earlier conversation and almost sighed in relief. “Or perhaps you hope to be a makeup artist.”
“I wouldn’t mind that but, no,” she answered, picking at the crumbs on her plate. “It’s actually for an internship at Madd Talent Agency. It’s for a year and if it goes well, they might hire me on.”
“So soon after graduating?” he asked, his heart pounding a strange, heavy rhythm in his chest.
“That does seem to be the best time,” she murmured. She made a face as she leaned in again and admitted, “It’s strange, though. I applied for this job way back when I was sixteen as part of a class project. They ended up offering me a full scholarship to the college of my choice, within reason of course, if I agreed to an internship after I graduated. But doesn’t that seem like a long time to wait for an intern?”
Two years seemed about right to him but she was still young and probably didn’t have a lot of practice waiting. Maybe when the year was over, and she came back, if she came back, she wouldn’t be too young. Of course, he’d be another year older as well but when he took into account all of the life experience she’d receive out west…. But then she also had four years of college to attend and he had no idea how that experience was going to change her. “You know, you don’t have to take Jolie trick or treating. I’m sure her grandparents wouldn’t mind taking her.”
“Are you trying to let me down gently?” she asked, looking at him with an almost hurt expression. At his questioning look, she added, “I mean, if you don’t want me hanging out with your daughter, I totally get it. Here I am, a crazy stalker girl and you’re looking out for your child…. I get your concerns. I’m not sure I’d want me around my kid, either.”
He had to let her words sink for a few moments before he found his tongue to refute them. Putting his hands over hers, ignoring the way his blood started to race at the contact, he said, “I’m a decent judge of character, Ana. In my line of work, I sort of have to be.”