In Development

by Rachel Spangler

  Cobie glanced at her contact screen and noticed a new entry entitled Dilly’s Porch.

  She smiled broadly. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now you’d better get back to work.”

  Work. She nodded. Yes, that’s what she needed now, even if it’s not what she wanted.

  • • •

  Lila ground her teeth together at the sight of Cordelia’s hand on Cobie’s. As she stood near the window to the terrace, she couldn’t make out what they were saying, but she didn’t like it. The intimate set of their bodies, close enough to share a whisper, made her stomach twist. And their casual, comfortable touches spoke of an easiness that made her pulse throb at her temples. Whatever they were saying wasn’t small talk, or business talk either. Lila recognized what genuine interest looked like on Cobie. She’d had it directed at herself more than a few times, but she’d never leaned into it the way Cordelia was.

  A set of new emotions churned through her. Jealousy was back with its sickening taste in her mouth, but something deeper flowed below its acidic surface, a feeling she hadn’t encountered in a long time, except in her dreams.

  Betrayal.

  It burned and chilled at the same time, like a fever that sweats even while shivering. Cobie had kissed her. So proud, so strong. She’d taken her in her arms in front of the world, made her feel for a second that she really belonged there. Is that how Cordelia felt right now? Seen, cared for, appreciated? She’d always known Cobie had the ability to make a person feel like the only woman in the room, and she knew that skill was as dangerous as it was powerful. What she hadn’t realized was how awful it would feel to see her put that talent to use with someone else.

  Suddenly Cobie turned and walked back toward the large glass wall. Lila straightened her tight shoulders and lifted her chin in a show of defiance largely for her own benefit. Then she strode purposefully toward the door, meeting Cobie before she’d even gotten one foot fully inside.

  “Did you have a nice little break?”

  Cobie leaned back. “Um, yeah. Got some air.”

  “Air,” Lila repeated in a harsh whisper. “Oh, is that all? Because it sort of looked like you got a phone number.”

  The rush of color to Cobie’s face confirmed her suspicions.

  “Lila, it’s not what you—”

  “Never mind.” Lila turned quickly on one spiked heel, but Cobie caught her arm and tugged her back, reeling her in like a fish strung helplessly on a line.

  “Don’t pull away from me, please,” she pleaded softly. “You always pull away. I never get a chance to talk to you.”

  “But you can talk to Cordelia, is that it?”

  Cobie’s eyes went wide and then narrowed, as though searching Lila’s. As though suddenly remembering they weren’t alone, she glanced around the room. Several people turned to stare, and more than one of them had cellphones out. They all quickly focused on their screens as if finding something infinitely more interesting than the conversation they were clearly eavesdropping on.

  “Oh,” Cobie said, “right.”

  “What?”

  Cobie rolled her shoulders and blew out a heavy breath. Work mode. All the genuineness faded from her expression, and even in her hyperemotional state, Lila reacted to the transformation. With a few subtle shifts of her face and posture, Cobie changed from caring and concerned to hard and aloof. With the flip of some internal switch, she was completely in control once again. Lila had seen her make the shift plenty of times, but never had she understood the full magnitude of the talent until just then.

  “I just went outside for a few minutes. Gimme a break. You’re suffocating me.”

  “I’m suffocating you?” Lila shot back in a terse voice. Okay, not her most brilliant comeback.

  “You’re all up in my business all the time. I can’t even talk to someone without you getting jealous and judgmental.”

  Lila tried to make scoffing sounds, but it came out sort of like a squeak. She wasn’t giving Cobie anything tangible to work with here, but the stage fighting felt too close to the real fights they’d already had, and she desperately didn’t want to go back to those.

  “Oh sure, now you don’t have anything to say?” Cobie called her out from a different angle. “What, you don’t want all your fancy friends to hear there’s trouble in paradise? Wouldn’t want anyone to see the cracks in your glittery armor?”

  Now that she could work with. “Just stop, Cobie.”

  “Stop what? Telling the truth?”

  “Stop making a scene,” she stage-whispered. “There are people around.”

  “I thought you liked having people around.”

  Lila scanned their immediate vicinity and noted many of the onlookers weren’t even trying to hide their interest anymore. They’d accomplished what they needed to, and she didn’t want things to escalate into a full-blown fight, for fear of what other truth bombs Cobie would manage to drop in the process. “Can we table this until we get home?”

  Cobie’s shoulders slumped on a heavy exhale, and she rubbed her face with both hands. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever you say, dear.”

  Lila forced a smile, wondering if the resignation in her voice was part of the act or a genuine reaction to tabling the topic. “Do you want me to have Malik bring the car around?”

  Cobie shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

  Lila raised a hand and caught Malik’s eye. She wanted so many things right now, but none of them could be found in this room. The evening had at least accomplished what they came for, and perhaps much more. On the surface, it seemed she’d gotten everything she’d wanted. And yet now she had to face whether she actually wanted what she got.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Holy crap,” Cobie said as she crashed onto the couch outside her bedroom door. “I don’t know how you manage to do this kind of thing on a regular basis.”

  “It’s my job,” Lila responded coolly.

  “You do it well,” Cobie said, fumbling with the laces on her boots. “Tonight was a success on all counts.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Cobie glanced up at her. Lila had taken a seat at the piano, but she didn’t look interested in playing. Her eyes focused on something much farther away than the music stand. “We raised a lot of money. Had a great turnout. Took many a dashing photograph.”

  “Time and the press will decide what to make of all that.”

  “Everyone I talked to loved the Vale costume. Gushing would not be too strong a word for their reactions. Have I said thank you enough for that?”

  “You have, but I’ve actually been meaning to tell you, a friend of mine designed the concept.”

  “Oh yeah?’ Cobie sat up at the tentativeness she heard in Lila’s voice.

  “I want you to credit her with the design, not me.”

  “But you made the costume.”

  “But a young woman named Addie Hammels gave me the concept drawing for the piece.”

  “So you share joint credit.”

  “I don’t want the credit,” Lila snapped.

  Cobie frowned. What had caused that little outburst? Lila had been tense and quiet the whole way home from the party, but she’d just assumed she was tired or facing a little come-down from their fake fight. Now she wondered if there wasn’t more to her mood, or the fight. “You don’t want people to know you made a costume for me?”

  “Not really, no.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “I doubt you do.”

  “Then explain it to me.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Lila rose off the bench, the beads on her dress swaying in a crimson wave, but as she passed by the couch, Cobie caught hold of her hand, turning the long graceful fingers against her palm.

  “Obviously it does matter,” Cobie said, “or you wouldn’t be so worked up.”

  “I’m not worked up.”

  “You are,” Cobie said calmly. “What’s bothering you?”

  “Nothing.”

  Cobi
e laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I used to worry you might be a better actor than me, but now I don’t think so.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re obviously upset about something. This Addie woman?” Her chest tightened at the thought, but she pushed on. “Who is she?”

  “That’s not really any of your business.”

  “Well, if I’m wearing her clothes and getting snapped at about it, I think that makes her very much my business.”

  “I didn’t snap at you about her.” Lila tried to pull away, but Cobie intertwined their fingers to hold her a little tighter. “I’m fine.”

  “Look, that might work with the guys you fake date, but I’m a woman. I know how deadly the word ‘fine’ can be when delivered in that tone. Something’s obviously upset you. Why don’t you tell me what?”

  “We don’t have that kind of a relationship,” Lila said, ice in her voice, but the fire in her eyes gave her away. “I don’t owe you any explanation for my moods or my decisions, and you don’t owe me any explanation about your past or other women.”

  Cobie winced. “Other women?”

  Lila rolled her eyes and jerked her hand free. “You don’t owe any answers to me, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t treat me like an idiot. I saw you with Cordelia tonight.”

  Cobie frowned and hoped the heat in her face didn’t show. “Nothing happened between me and Cordelia. We talked. Nothing more. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  “It’s fine. She’s your type. It doesn’t bother me.”

  “Obviously it does or you wouldn’t be angry.”

  “Don’t tell me how I feel,” Lila shouted.

  “Oh, my God, are you insane? You’re literally yelling at me about how you aren’t mad. That’s a bit hypocritical, even for you, Lila.” Cobie got to her feet so they stood nearly eye-to-eye. “And that’s what’s driving you crazy, isn’t it? You’re mad that you’re mad about this. You don’t want to care about me and other women. You don’t have any right to be upset, but you are, and you can’t admit it.”

  “Now you’re an armchair psychologist?” Lila said, but she looked away, a sure tell Cobie had hit her mark.

  Instead of feeling victorious, the realization made her feel guilty. She’d hurt Lila’s feelings. She hadn’t ever stopped to think about Lila’s feelings for her. Sure, she’d had glimpses of them, but Lila worked so hard to hide anything real, Cobie never knew where the lines were. Still, that didn’t mean she’d wanted to cross them. “Nothing happened with Cordelia.”

  “What about with Talia?”

  Cobie gasped as the force of the memories rushed back to her. The redirect caught her off guard, and it stung.

  “You and Talia were lovers.” It wasn’t a question.

  “My past isn’t on the table for you.”

  “But it was for Cordelia?”

  “No.”

  Lila snorted. “You told her in two minutes what you didn’t manage to tell me in months. You and Talia have a history. That’s why Vigilant matters so much. It’s because she matters to you.”

  “Talia isn’t relevant to you.”

  “Really? The fact that you slept with the scriptwriter for the movie deal our entire relationship is based on isn’t relevant?” Lila exploded. “What about the fact that I had to find that out in a room full of people while listening to you flirt with some other woman?”

  “I wasn’t flirting with her.” The comeback was off point, but it was all she had.

  “Who’s the hypocrite now?”

  “You are,” Cobie shot back. “You keep everything from me. You do what you want, when you want, with whoever you want. You keep me on a strictly need-to-know basis, and, honestly, even less than that because you change the rules all the damn time. I never know anything until it happens, and even after the fact, I don’t know what was real and what was for show and what was some damn trap for your own amusement. Everything is fair game for you, but the minute I try to protect something meaningful to me, something private and personal, you lose your shit.”

  “It’s not private and personal if you talk about it with another woman in front of me.”

  “What about you? Do the same rules apply?”

  “What?”

  “You spent a night sobbing in my arms over someone named Selena, and you never told me a damn thing about who she is or how she broke your heart. You just pretended like nothing happened and expect me to do the same.”

  “That’s different.”

  “Because the rules don’t apply to you? Because you’re a hypocrite?”

  “Shut up, Cobie.”

  “No. I want an answer.” Cobie pushed. She’d already pissed Lila off. Why not have it out? At least then she’d know where they stood. “Why do you have a right to know about my exes when I don’t have a right to know about yours?”

  “Because Selena’s not my ex. She’s my sister.”

  “Oh.” That took the wind out of Cobie’s lungs. Images of Emma flashed through her mind, and the protective instincts took hold. Is that why Lila hadn’t talked to her, some sort of ingrained protectiveness? Lila’s body language was rigid as she folded her arms across her chest. Something still didn’t add up. Clearly Cobie had made a pretty dumb assumption, but how the hell was she supposed to know that if Lila wouldn’t talk to her? “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

  “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “And whose fault is that?” Cobie asked a little more softly. “I’m sorry your sister . . .” What? Hurt her, left her, died? She had no idea what a sister could do to cause the grief she’d witnessed in Lila.

  “Don’t talk about her,” Lila said dismissively.

  “Fine.” Cobie sighed. If that’s how it had to be, she could at least demand the same for herself. “Then don’t talk about Talia.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine,” Cobie repeated. “While we’re at it, let’s not talk about your jealousy over Cordelia either.”

  “Sure. Let’s also avoid talking about the kiss tonight.”

  “Good. I didn’t want to talk about that anyway.”

  “Then why’d you bring it up?” Lila snapped.

  “I didn’t. You did.”

  Lila opened her mouth and then faltered as if trying to remember if that were true or not.

  Cobie snorted. “Yeah, little Freudian slip there?”

  “That’s cute coming from the woman who slipped her tongue into my mouth. Was that an accident or part of those acting skills you’re so fond of?”

  Why did she have to have a comeback for everything? “Are you complaining?”

  “What? About the fact that you kissed me or the fact that you still had my lipstick on you when you exchanged phone numbers with Cordelia?”

  “Yeah, actually,” Cobie said, honestly curious. “Which one of those things bothered you more? Or did the latter only bother you because of the former?”

  “Why do you care?”

  “Because if you’re just pissed that I kissed you, I’d say, ‘Too damn bad.’ You told me to get into character. You said you’d follow my lead. I did my job, and I don’t regret it.”

  Lila golf clapped. “Do you think they’ll give you an Oscar for that performance?”

  “But if you aren’t mad about the kiss,” Cobie continued, “if you’re mad I got a woman’s phone number shortly after kissing you, then I do have to apologize, because I clearly missed a memo somewhere.”

  “What memo?”

  “The one where you like me enough to be jealous. The one where our kisses are more than business transactions. The one where you actually care about what I do and who I do it with, and not just for the sake of the press.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  “What about you? Should I flatter you?”

  “I’m going to bed now.” Lila turned toward the door.

  “Why? You don’t want to hear the truth?” Cobie
asked, stepping into her path. “Does it complicate your tightly controlled world to know that I kissed you on a whim? Because I wanted to, and I didn’t care who was watching? Because I found you too beautiful and enigmatic to resist? Because I didn’t know how many more chances I’d have and the thought of missing out on even one of them scared me more than the fear of incurring your wrath, which is actually a pretty legit fear for me in case you’re wondering.”

  “Get out of my way.”

  “Tell me why,” Cobie pleaded. “Why can’t we talk about this?”

  “Because if I have to stand here looking at you, listening to you, for one second longer, I’ll . . .”

  “What, Lila? What will you do?”

  Lila wrapped her hand around the back of Cobie’s neck and pulled her closer until their lips connected in a passionate rush of heat.

  • • •

  There. She’d done it. She’d kissed Cobie the way she’d ached to all night, or all week, or since the last time she’d done it. The thought terrified her. Every second of the night, every part of her had longed to feel those lips pressed against her own. And now she had her fix, her drug, her secret desire. Would it be enough? She almost laughed at the absurdity of that question, but nothing was funny about Cobie’s strong arm around her waist, pinning Lila to her hard body.

  She almost couldn’t stand the heat burning between them, and yet she didn’t have it in her to resist the flame either. At this point, she would have crawled toward it even while incinerating. She fumbled with the single zipper down the front of Cobie’s jacket and pulled downward in one steady tug. Then sliding her hands back up under the leather, she pushed it off those tightly muscled shoulders. She ran her fingers over the soft skin there, tracing the ridges before tearing her mouth away from Cobie’s and replacing her hands with her teeth.

  She bit harder than she meant to, but the knot of tension where shoulder met neck was hers, and she would mark it as such. She’d caused that tension. She was likely still causing it, but from the way Cobie’s head lolled back in surrender, she had no more power to stop this than Lila.

  “Bed,” Lila commanded.