Making Love
by
Catherine Winchester
Making Love
by Catherine Winchester
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents, other than those clearly in the public domain, are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Catherine Winchester.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Cover art copyright © CS Winchester 2015. All rights reserved
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Epilogue
Other Books by Catherine Winchester
About the Author
Chapter One
I wasn’t even sure why I was here, other than this being a new experience and in a vague sense, something I might be able to make use of in the future.
My friend, Katie, who was working on her PhD in Psychology, is conducting an experiment to answer the question ‘Can you manufacture love?’. Her work is based on the work of psychologist Arthur Aron who, through his experiments on the Generation of Interpersonal Closeness in the 1990s, was able to make two total strangers fall in love.
The experiment piqued my curiosity, especially since I’d read a couple of other articles on the work, but I wasn’t exactly hopeful. Besides, did I really want to just fall in love with some random stranger? What if he picked his nose? Or didn’t like dogs? Or waxed his chest?
Eugh!
But I was here and I would give it everything I could. Katie wasn’t exactly a best friend but I didn’t want to sabotage her study, so I was keeping an open mind. Worst case scenario, if I fell in love with a chest waxer, I’d just have to emigrate.
I had already filled in a comprehensive personality questionnaire, and another one about me and my life, which Katie assured me wasn’t to pair me up with ‘good matches’, the combinations would be randomly selected, but rather it was so that the results of the study could later be compared to traditional matchmaking theories. That way she could tell if it was only ones that looked good together on paper who had fallen in love, or only the ones with similar personality types, that kind of thing.
“Elle?”
I looked up to see Katie poking her head out of an office door. We were on her university’s campus but to help participants feel relaxed, the interviews were taking place in informal environments.
“Take a seat,” Katie said as I stepped in. The room looked like a small sitting room, with a sofa, or a small table and chairs that we could choose to sit at. I chose the table. I didn’t want some Lothario trying to touch me if he fell in love with me, and the table would provide a barrier. And besides, there were refreshments on the table.
I noticed there was a second door, other than the one I had entered through and while I looked around, Katie poked her head out of it.
“You can come in now.”
In walked one of the most handsome men I’d ever seen! I could have sworn my heart skipped a beat, although that fluttering feeling is supposedly an additional heartbeat, not a skipped one.
“Elle, this is Will, Will, this is Ellie,” she said.
Of course I knew who he was, everyone knew who he was. He was Will Braxton, star of the Shadow Watch movies and voted MTVs Sexiest Sentinel (despite being a bad guy, not a sentinel).
He was taller than I imagined from seeing him on the big screen, over six foot, and his trademark black hair from those films was now a sort of chestnut brown.
But that was beside the point because right now he was stretching his hand out towards me and I must look like a deer trapped in the headlights.
Right, I have to act like a normal human being. Oh God!
“Hi.” He flashed me a warm smile and I swear to God, his blue eyes twinkled. Jesus Christ, not falling in love with this man was going to be my problem, I didn’t need any questions to fall in love with him, that sexy Colgate smile was more than enough.
“Hi.” I managed to grasp his hand and smile back, although it might have looked more like a grimace.
“Do you prefer Elle or Ellie?” he asked as he sat opposite.
“Either,” I admitted. He could call me Princess Guppy for all I cared.
“Okay,” Katie said, distracting me from the very pretty man sitting across from me. “Here is a copy of the questions for you both.” She handed us four sheets, stapled together in one corner. “I want you to take turns asking each question, but you must both answer all the questions. We have a maximum of 90 minutes but there’s only 36 questions, so I’m sure it’ll be plenty of time, and don’t worry if you finish early. There’s a few questions that have a four minute time limit, which is what that clock is for. Just press the button and it will give a small beep after four minutes. Please try to be as honest as you can with your answers.”
“Okay,” I said.
“There’s cold refreshments on the table and hot beverages can be dispensed from that machine in the corner,” she pointed. “Help yourself to anything you want. Feel free to take short breaks in between questions or sets of questions, but please don’t skip ahead or read the next sheet before you’re ready to begin that set. If you have any problems, just knock on the door and I’ll come in. Okay?”
“Uh…”
“Sounds fine,” Will assured her.
“Are we actually being taped?” I asked, noticing the video cameras.
“No, the video is off for this session, but I will be listening and watching through that mirror,” she pointed.
I figured someone would, they had to make sure we complied with the rules, but I was glad not to be recorded.
“Is that okay?” she asked.
I was suddenly feeling very… odd. Did I really have to sit here for an hour and a half with this guy? How was I ever going to remain cool and calm?
Well the answer was simple, I wouldn’t. I would make a huge fool of myself and probably kick myself for days.
Instead of voicing any of this, I just smiled at Katie. “It’s fine. We know where you are if we have any problems.”
“Great.” She grinned at us. “I’ll see you both later.”
She left and for the first time since I’d shaken his hand, I had no choice but to look at Will. We both flashed somewhat hesitant smiles.
“Shall we get some drinks before we start?” he asked.
“I’ll just grab a water,” I said, reaching to the cool box at the other end of the table.
“I’ll get some tea then.”
I studied him as he headed over to the machine and I liked what I saw. He wasn’t huge and musclebound like so many Hollywood hunks, but he was solidly built and far from skinny, and he had that perfect shoulder to wai
st ratio (now I’m not 100% sure what that ratio is, but I know it when I see it).
He was wearing a dark blue shirt, jeans which were neither too skinny, nor too baggy, and boots. He looked good. Very good. I suddenly felt rather frumpy in comparison. I was also in jeans but… well, jeans don’t sit on my arse in the same way they were hugging his.
His cheekbones though, they looked like they could cut glass, especially under the rather harsh overhead lighting in this room.
Feeling unsure of this whole situation, I had put no more effort into my appearance than I would do to go to the supermarket. This wasn’t a date, after all. My make-up was light, my dark hair was twisted up and secured with a claw clip and I had matched my black jeans with a dark red top.
Will finished preparing his tea and as he turned, I focused on my water bottle, twisting the cap off and taking a sip.
He smiled at me as he sat down again and I wondered if he’d seen me ogling his arse. God I hoped not.
“Shall we start?” I asked. Desperate to get this over with.
“Sure.” That killer smile again. “You go first.”
“Okay.” I looked down at the sheets we’d been given. “Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” I asked the first question, which didn’t seem too hard.
“Ooh,” he said, pursing his lips. “Just one?”
I didn’t know any more than the sheet said, so I didn’t reply.
“I suppose, my best friend, Mark from school.”
It was a good answer. I wanted to ask ’why? Don't you get to see him much?’ but it felt too invasive a question to ask a stranger.
“You?” he asked me. I had almost forgotten that I had to answer too.
“Um, I think my sister.”
“Really?”
“She lives up in Scotland and I hardly ever see her.”
He nodded in understanding then looked down to his sheet. “Would you like to be famous and in what way?” he asked me.
“No,” I answered easily. “I wouldn’t mind being a little known and being recognised occasionally, but I wouldn’t want to be truly famous. Although I would love it if everyone knew my work, just not me personally.”
“What do you do?” he wanted to know.
“Are we allowed to branch out?” I asked.
“I expect they’ll tell us if we’re not,” he answered logically.
“I feel like a kid acting out in class,” I admitted and we shared a smile. I also felt like a teenager with a crush on the school stud, but I didn’t mention that. “But to answer your question, I’m a cartoonist, graphic novelist and illustrator,” I smiled.
“Wow, that sounds fascinating,” he said, seeming like he meant it. “I’d love to ask more but maybe we should press on with the questions?” He raised a quizzical eyebrow.
I nodded my agreement. “Your turn.”
“Well, I already am famous,” he said, his expression a little sheepish. It took everything I had not to giggle like a girl and instead, appear cool, calm and collected.
“But do you want to be?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve always known that fame was a part of acting and it’s only once you become known that you get offered the really good roles. I try to be positive about it but I suppose, if I’m totally honest, if I could have my pick of roles and not be chased through airports by paparazzi, I would rather that.”
We continued back and forth with the questions, which remained pretty light, things such as ‘What would constitute a ‘perfect’ day for you?’ and ‘When making a phone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say?’ and as things went on, I began to feel more confident that I could get through this without any major embarrassments, so I began to relax.
“When did you last sing to yourself? And to someone else?” he asked me.
“I sang in the car on the way over here,” I admitted, blushing. “And to someone else… Uh… Well I’m always breaking into song.” My blush deepened. “A word or phrase will remind me of a song, or sometimes I just have one stuck in my head.”
“You like singing?”
“I love it,” I admitted. “The right music can change my whole mood. So what about you?”
“I sing fairly frequently. Often when alone, in the car or shower, but the last time I sang to someone? I think that would be Christmas time, we all sang along to some carols on TV.”
The next few questions were rather general, until I got to, “Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common,” I read out.
Will looked at me and I bit my lip as I wondered what he was going to say.
“Well, we’re both nervous about being here,” he began.
“You look as cool as a cucumber,” I argued.
“Only on the outside,” he admitted. “Inside, I was wondering what I’d let myself be talked into. Okay, what else. Well, we’re both into boots,” he suggested, and I wondered when he’d had a chance to clock my footwear. “Finally, I think we’re both interested in the other.”
I blushed crimson. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought.
My embarrassment made me ignore his last comment and I replied with, “We’re both right handed, wearing jeans, and working in creative professions.”
The next question was much easier. “For what in your life do you feel most grateful?” he asked me.
“That’s easy, the people in my life.”
He grinned back, “Another thing we have in common.”
“If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?” I asked.
He answered with his parents not having gotten divorced. I answered that I wished I had got to know my dad better but neither of us elaborated.
By the time we got to ‘tell each other as much about your life as you can in four minutes,’ I think we were both feeling pretty relaxed. I started the clock and Will began. I knew from having seen a few interviews with him that he tended to ramble, but he managed to get a fair amount of information into four minutes.
“Well, my mum worked in the theatre but my dad was a businessman. I went to boarding school, which was hard for me and my Mum, but my Dad insisted that he wanted the best for me. I found acting there, and it really helped while my folks were divorcing. I couldn’t act out as me, as Will, but I could on stage and it was a real release for me. Mum was supportive but Dad hated that I wanted to go into acting, so I got a degree. Then I went to Drama school in London for another three years, but I actually got discovered by an agent while doing a play with the Uni drama club, oddly enough. I was floored but she thought I had real potential. She’s the one who encouraged me to finish my degree, not to drop out.
“Dad and I had some huge fights about it but he eventually came around. I got offered the usual parts, the Casualty-ER-victim, or-criminal-of-the-week type roles, but I knew I didn’t want to do that, so I stuck with stage work for ages, where the meatier roles were. Eventually I met Keith Bolton, who did, and still does a lot of stage work, and he brought me onto a crime miniseries he was working on. Then he was asked to direct one of the Shadow Watch movies and asked me to audition. I tried out for the lead, like every other naturally blonde Brit, but after four months of auditions and screen tests, he picked me to play the villain instead and-”
The clock beeped.
“Carry on,” I urged. I could listen to him all day. The blonde hair was a surprise to me, whenever I saw him on screen, he has brown or black hair so I would never have guessed he was blonde. Being famous, I suppose I felt as if I knew him, to some degree and I couldn’t help but wonder what else I didn’t know about this man. I hoped I’d get a chance to get to know him better.
“Well that was nearly it,” he gave me a self-conscious smile. “Playing Dante put me on the path to the big time and since then I’ve gone from strength to strength. I bought my house in London with that paycheck and live in London… obviously. I uh, I don’t know what else there
is to say about me. I haven’t had a very interesting life.”
‘Yeah, right,’ I wanted to scoff, but his modesty and shy smile was actually rather appealing.
When my turn came, I was a little more succinct but I still ran out of time.
“I was also privately educated but only in a small local independent school in Surrey, and it was a Day School, not boarding. My parents divorced before I can remember and my Mum always worked a lot. She’s a partner in a chartered accountancy firm and had to put in long hours when we were kids to work her way up. I’m the youngest of two girls and my older sister practically raised me. I hardly ever saw my Dad, usually only on birthdays and sometimes over Christmas. After school I moved to London to attend Art College, then never left. I’m now a sort of jack of all trades in digital art, just trying to earn a living doing something I enjoy, and now-”
The buzzer sounded and although Will offered me the chance to continue, I felt self-conscious and declined.
“Maybe later,” I said, hoping that he might ask me for a drink when this was over.
“If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?” was the last question from the first set. I answered that I’d like the ability to play the piano, and he answered that he’d like the ability to ride a motorcycle.
We took a break then and I got up to get a hot drink for us both, while he nipped off to the loo. When he returned, I was stirring sweetener into my hot chocolate.
“Sweet tooth?” he asked.
I nodded, a little shame faced. That was the reason my jeans didn’t flatter me the same way his did, and for the little muffin top over my waistband.
“Me too,” he confessed, and suddenly, liking sweet things didn’t seem so bad.
“So what’s next?” I asked, knowing it was his turn to ask.
“If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?” he read from the sheet.
“If I’ll be happy,” I answered without hesitation. “And if not, what I need to change to be happy.”
Making Love (Destiny Book 1) Page 1