“Only if Kirk gets medical permission to do handheld,” Eve said, looking Kirk over, her face softer than usual. Her voice, too, now that he thought about it, and she was looking at the man the way Brody remembered Jillian looking at him.
JJ, he corrected himself. Jillian was fake, the fantasy of the warm and wise woman he’d imagined for himself.
“Oh, and did you see the paper?” Eve said, pulling a folded newspaper from her messenger bag. “I can’t believe you didn’t let them use your name, Brody. This would have been faboo publicity. You got major crooks totally nailed.”
“I’m not interested in more PR,” he said, but he was proud of his role in the case. Getting the word that the DVD Brody had handed over held scandalous content, Bascom’s people went after the phony drives at Kirk’s place and were arrested.
Bascom was caught completely cold and immediately sold out his partners in crime. Subpoenas had been rolling out for involved legislators, state regulators, even a judge.
It turned out Brody had lots of fans in state government and law enforcement. He’d signed countless autographs and had his picture taken with tons of people.
“And you!” Eve leveled her gaze at Kirk. “You could have been killed. Don’t keep secrets from me like that.”
“I didn’t want to scare you,” he said softly, looking like a puppy who just had its belly rubbed. Kirk always bobbed his head while Eve gave him shit, grinning like a goon. Brody had always interpreted it as a sister-brother deal.
“So, how come JJ wasn’t at the party?” Kirk asked. “I watched some of the editing. She did great work.”
“She declined,” Eve said. “She seemed…upset.” She turned to Brody. “It’s not your fault, Brode. I warned her you weren’t the kind of guy who settles down.”
“Oh, yeah?” He felt irked by her confident judgment of him.
“I mean you’re a great friend—generous and lovable and fun. But you need variety and action, right?”
“Right,” he said faintly.
“Yeah,” Kirk said. “Trying to make guys like us settle down is like teaching pigs to fly. Who needs a bunch of bruised bacon?” He clicked his empty glass against Brody’s, but when he caught Eve’s eye he seemed to hold still, as if he hoped she would disagree.
“Did you ever consider the pig might want to fly?” Brody said, sounding crankier than he’d intended. “Did you ever think about that?”
Kirk and Eve gave startled laughs.
“Good one,” Kirk said hesitantly.
“Wait,” Eve said. “You mean it, don’t you, Brody? Oh. Hey. Is it JJ? God, I had no idea. I’m so sorry. Was it too much free time, because I’ll be sure that—”
“Forget it. Just, for the love of God, Kirk, get some balls. No, make that wings. Be a damned flying pig. You want her, go after her.”
“Go after her?”
“You mean…?” Eve let her words trail off as they both figured it out. They stared at each other, faces pink with embarrassment, eyes shiny with hope. Lots of hope. Brody felt an answering pang in his chest.
He left them still staring at each other. At least he’d learned one thing from being with Jillian. He’d learned what love looked like.
People could change, dammit. And he wanted to. He wanted out of Doctor Nite. Now. He’d gone back partly to spite Jillian. And also because it wasn’t easy to make that big a jump, to flap those tiny, unused pig wings.
Back at his place, he went straight to the trash can under his desk where he’d tossed Jillian’s feedback on Night Crimes—he’d felt too angry and shaky to read it. Of course, the do-not-disturb sign on his office door meant the housekeeper hadn’t emptied the trash, which he’d known when he pretended to dispose of the fat envelope.
Now he flipped through the printout, reading Jillian’s remarks in the margins. They were helpful, insightful and steady, the same way she’d been behind the camera. After the last page, she’d written him a note:
This is good, Brody. Finish it. I’ve made suggestions here and there. Remember, first drafts are never perfect. It won’t be easy. Nothing good ever is. But I feel your heart in this. No matter what you believe about me, believe in my faith in you.
Love, Jillian.
He blinked. First drafts are never perfect. Not even the first draft of a new life.
He couldn’t go back in time, pretend he hadn’t decided to quit the show. He would help his crew as much as he could, but it would be soul-killing to deny who he wanted to be now.
He’d need help to stick with it, though. He’d need Jillian. Believe in my faith in you. These words from her buoyed him, made him feel stronger.
He needed her for support and inspiration, for his own happiness. He needed her to help him see past his own bullshit, dig for the truth of whatever he needed to know and do and become.
And she needed him, too, dammit. To soften her edges, to show her that human weakness could become strength, to show her more than one way to see the world.
He had to talk to her.
But first, he had to say goodbye to Doctor Night. All hell would break loose, he knew, but he was ready for it now.
TWO DAYS AFTER she’d seen the truth about her documentary, Jillian burned a DVD to leave with Brody at his network office. Once he saw it and called her, they would talk. The idea made her heart jump so high into her throat she could hardly breathe past it.
The DVD was a rough narration with a few clips of her new project, which had the working title, Taming the Beast and the Shrew: How False Expectations Keep Us from Happy Relationships.
It was about the games both sexes played, whether out of selfishness, fear, insecurity or past pain.
At the end, she’d tacked on a speech just for Brody, telling him she’d been wrong and that he’d taught her about herself and her fears and unfair assumptions.
It was an apology and it was an offer to try again. Because she loved him still. Her voice shook at the end, but she didn’t care. Her whole heart was in that speech.
She printed out a label, placed it on the DVD case and headed for her car to drive to his network’s offices. Maybe he’d be there and maybe just seeing him would tell her everything she needed to know.
An hour later she was stunned to learn that Brody Donegan no longer had an office at his network. “But he’s the star of Doctor Nite,” she said to the receptionist, whose desk she’d finally reached.
“Not anymore,” she said with a smile. “I can take your package, but it might not get to him.”
Had Brody quit? She left the office building and dialed his cell phone, only to get voice mail. Okay, no biggie. If he didn’t call back, she’d track him through Eve. No way was she giving up without a fight.
She drove home, her head throbbing, her body tight with frustration. When she got blocked by the garbage truck working its way down her street, she almost bellowed out the window in rage. Instead, she whipped around the truck and drove too fast to her house, squealing up the driveway and jamming on her brakes. She calmed herself before getting out of the car.
She noticed her neighbor and several women huddled on the porch talking. When the group shifted, she was startled to see Brody in the middle of the women. Brody? At her house? He’d come to see her! Her heart seemed to break open with warm joy.
He said something and the women laughed. He was doing his thing, charming every female in sight. That was Brody’s gift—to share his spark of fun and mischief and deep interest in people with everyone he met. This was the Brody Treatment. And a girl could do far worse than that.
She grabbed the DVD and took the sidewalk toward her neighbor’s place. Brody caught sight of her and grinned so broadly she knew, head to toe, everything would be fine.
She was so lucky to know him. She loved him just as he was, Doctor Nite and all. If she was really, really lucky, she’d get to love him for the rest of her life.
He said goodbye to the group on the porch and skimmed the steps, heading straight for her. She
wanted to run into his arms, but she stood on the sidewalk and let him come to her, glad when her neighbor waved and retreated into the house with her friends.
“I was asking your neighbor when you’d be back,” he said when he reached her, standing close.
“I went to your network, but they said you were gone.”
“I quit, Jillian,” he said, his dark eyes so familiar, so warm. She’d missed his close attention. “It was time. Like you said in your note, nothing good is ever easy.”
“Your book is so good. Are you still working on it?”
“I’m starting in again. Starting on my new life, too.”
“When you quit, how did that go?”
“Like I expected. The network gave me hell, threatened to sue. My agent thinks I’m crazy. The crew flipped out.”
“Eve?”
“The worst. Thank God Kirk calmed her down. They’re together now, you know.”
“I wondered about them. That’s good to hear.”
“They figured out there’s life beyond Doctor Nite, too. They’ll land on their feet. I guess I always knew that. Everybody’s calming down. There’s always a new show.”
“I’m glad you’re through the worst of it.”
“You were right. I had to go with my gut. And my heart.”
“And you were right about my documentary. I didn’t mean for it to be a hit piece, but that’s how it came out. Here…this explains it.” She held out the DVD.
He groaned. “Haven’t we had enough trouble with movies?”
“This is my new project. You’ll like it.” She had to stop talking while the garbage truck roared behind her. “There’s a message from me to you at the end and—”
“You have the master?” he interrupted.
“Yes, but—”
He tossed the case into the garbage truck.
“Hey!” she said. “What are you doing?”
“Tell me what you said. I want it live.” He scooped her hair behind her ears and looked at her in that way he had, taking her all in, showing her she was the most important person in the world.
“Okay…. I said I did have a closed mind about you. And about men. Maybe because my father was a rat, maybe because of my fat-girl past. I’ll never love your show, but I love you. As you are. Without a single change.”
“Without a single one? Come on. You wouldn’t be a woman if you didn’t want to fix your man.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m new at this relationship stuff, Jillian. I’ll screw up and I’ll make mistakes.”
“Me, too. I can’t even make barmbrack right.”
He laughed, relieved it seemed. “We’ll figure it out together, I guess.” His face filled with emotion and he pulled her close. “God, I missed you,” he said into her hair, and she felt as though she’d come home at last from a difficult journey.
He leaned back and grinned. “I mean, hell, a woman who can turn Irish stew into a weapon…now that’s a rare woman. I’d be an idiot to let her go.”
“Damn straight.”
“I want to take my own advice,” he said, serious again. “Remember Dating Tip Number One? I want to settle down with a woman who’s smart, who makes me laugh, who lights me up inside. Someone who has faith in me. I want to make you proud, Jillian.”
She felt tears in her eyes. “You already do.”
“I need you to help me see my own BS for what it is, to get things straight, to know what I want and to go for it.”
“Cross my heart,” she said, as she’d said when she got the job. “I won’t be able to help myself.”
Brody laughed. “I love that about you. And I’ll help you stay open, to see both sides, to cut us both some slack.”
And then he kissed her, soft and strong, full of hope and heat. “Too bad I gave up my show. I’ve got a great Top Ten list for makeup sex forming in mind.”
“I’d rather live it than film it, Brody.”
“Don’t you see better through the lens?”
“Not when it comes to you,” she said. “I see you just fine. And when I don’t, something tells me you’ll set me straight.”
“Mmm. My pleasure.” He leaned in for a kiss.
“Let’s go inside. You make me too weak in the knees.”
He gestured for her to lead the way, but she tucked herself against him so they walked together, half on the sidewalk, half in the grass, no one leading, no one following—partners on the journey of becoming a couple.
She’d given Brody the courage to be the man he wanted to be. And he’d helped her open her heart and mind, see more than she’d allowed herself to see. Two sets of eyes, after all, were better than one, especially when they belonged to two people in love.
Putting It to the Test
By Lori Borrill
TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON
AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG
STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID
PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
1
I TEND TO BE conservative when it comes to sex.
Carly Abrams studied the survey option, wondering if she should answer based on her actual sex life or the one she really wanted. So far in her twenty-six years she hadn’t exactly pushed any sexual boundaries. But that wasn’t her fault. She simply hadn’t connected with any adventurous men. Give her the right partner with the right moves at the right time, and a very kinky side of Carly Abrams could make a flashing debut. The fact that it hadn’t happened yet shouldn’t be held against her, should it?
“No, it shouldn’t,” she muttered, then clicked the box titled Disagree. She briefly paused over Strongly Disagree, thinking if she was making a sexual admission, she might as well go all the way, but decided to leave it be. It was pointless to overanalyze the questions. Though this was a matchmaking survey, she wouldn’t be finding any soul mates on the design team at Hall Technologies. This was only an exercise to select the two Web designers who would be assigned to the company’s latest client, Singles Inc., an online matchmaking and dating service in need of a fresh new Web site.
A number of firms had vied for the account, Singles Inc. attracting some of the biggest names in advertising and Web design. But though Hall Technologies was no leader in the industry, Brayton Hall had landed the account with his unconventional style and his concepts about becoming one with the client, which in this case included using the client’s compatibility survey to select the project’s design team.
Everyone who wanted a shot at the job had to fill it out, though employees had the option of skipping any questions they felt uncomfortable answering.
Like this next one.
When it comes to sex, nothing’s too far out for me. Bring on the toys, tie me up and invite a friend to join us. “The wilder, the better” is my motto.
Well, if she were looking to connect with adventurous men, this would certainly be the way to do it.
Fidgeting with the hem of her canary-yellow tunic, she stared at the screen and smiled. Wouldn’t Mr. Hall keel over if she strongly agreed to that statement? Not that she expected him to read the answers. They’d made a big deal out of mentioning that Singles Inc. would tally the results and that no one at Hall Technologies would be privy to detailed information.
Still, if he did, it would be a riot. Ms. Sally Sunshine, as she was often regarded, coming out of her tidy closet to reveal a fetish for bondage, dildos and threesomes. Just the image of Mr. Hall’s reacti
on had her clicking Strongly Agree for fun and tempting herself to leave it that way. Of course, it wouldn’t be true. Though toys and bondage might have raided her fantasies, she couldn’t quite make the jump into threesomes—and she could hardly cop to the label of “wild” if she’d never even broached “moderate.”
Yet she couldn’t help staring at her answer as if she were trying the idea on for size.
“When it comes to sex, nothing’s too—”
The low, sultry voice over her shoulder caused her to jump and slap a hand to the screen.
Please don’t let that be who she thought it was.
“—far out for me.”
Oh, heck. It was. Matt Jacobs, the bane of her existence, the thorn in her professional side. The star of your sexual fantasies.
Oh, no. Scratch that last errant thought. Matt Jacobs was most definitely not her sexual fantasy. In fact, the only fantasy she had of Matt involved him making a fool out of himself in front of as many people as possible, getting fired, packing up his belongings and tripping over the threshold on his way out the door.
Yeah, now there’s a fantasy to get hot about.
Frowning, she tossed over her shoulder, “Do you mind?” But instead of backing off, he moved in closer and chuckled lightheartedly, filling her space with the sound of his voice and sending a tingle through her veins that exposed that last thought as a lie.
Okay, so maybe she was still harboring a few remnants of the crush she’d developed two years ago, back when he’d first swaggered into Hall Technologies from their rival design firm, Web Tactics. He’d been a noted acquisition for Hall, and Carly, as the lead Web programmer, had been sold on his arrival. The two were supposed to have formed a team, working together to tackle the biggest projects that came through the door. But that was before he waltzed in and told management he could do it alone, knocking her off their first project and snagging every other good account that had come in since.
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