the adjacent one. “I think we can easily land on some of your mother’s favorites.”
“Vanity? Power? Revenge?”
He laughs again, his eyes glistening as they fasten on me. “I’m so glad we’re working on this together. I was worried you’d be dull.”
“I do my best to be. I’m not a fan of the spotlight.”
“So I’ve gathered. Why is that?”
I shrug. “I’m just interested in other things.”
“Like what?”
I stifle an annoyed sigh. “Art. History. Literature. Language.”
“All reasons why you’re so perfect for this.” His expression changes, returning to the same energy as before. Like he’s measuring his stares out, carefully and quietly. But not timidly. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Controlling every syllable of this narrative. “I say we start with your interests and fold in Veronica’s as we go.”
I hesitate. “I’m not sure that’s fair. She’s your client.”
“And I don’t think she’ll be hard to satisfy. All I have to do is pick the shiniest, gaudiest, most expensive thing in the room, tell her how important it is, and she’ll love it. I have a feeling you’ll be harder to please, which gives this endeavor a little more…structure. Why not give ourselves some challenges and make it fun?” He leans in. “Tell me, Kara. What moves you? Give me a place to start. A theme.”
He slants more of his weight into the space between us. I shift away by matching degrees.
“That’s…um…a really broad question.”
Not to mention a loaded one. Only one thing has really moved me recently. One man, rather. One exasperating, beautiful, tortured man. Over the past two weeks, somehow all of my thoughts, all of my being, have been magnetized to him. Even now, my mind is consumed by the blistering memories of him.
Arden tilts his head slightly, as if perhaps he might be able to figure out the answer simply by looking at me. “Come now, Kara. You have something in mind. I can see the wheels turning.”
I gulp hard, really hoping that’s all he can see. Because if anyone finds out what Maximus is beginning to mean to me, our days together would certainly be numbered. I hardly trust Kell with the information. I certainly don’t trust Arden.
“What is it?” He reaches out and takes my hand, gliding his thumb along my wrist softly. “I can tell when people are lying to me, you know? It’s one of those special little gifts that makes playing with humans so much fun.”
I curse the fast beating of my heart now, with his thumb pushing into the pulsing echo of it. His persistent stare trips my efforts to mentally catalog all the times I’ve already lied to him in our brief acquaintance, which, even from a quick tally, is too many.
Still, though he may be able to spot a lie, it doesn’t mean he can figure out the truth.
“So, tell me.” He draws his hands back after a moment, clasping them comfortably on his lap. “What moves you? Or, perhaps who?”
And just like that, Maximus blazes over my thoughts again. Igniting everything. Consuming everything. His tenderness. His intellect. His passion. His fear. Everything he’s shown me he’s capable of, and everything I’ve yet to see.
But I have to supply another answer. Something that still feels like the truth.
“The hero,” I finally say.
Arden lifts a dark brow. “The hero?” He makes a small sound. “Interesting. Epic? Tragic?”
“You choose,” I say. “That should give you plenty to work with.”
He looks me over again, his expression quietly amused. “I like it.” He glances back to his desk. “Let’s find some heroes then, shall we?”
Chapter Twenty
Maximus
I shouldn’t feel half as good as I do when stepping into Recto Verso this morning. I’ve clocked no more than five hours of sleep in the last two days. Obsession with a certain old movie script and the research trips upon which it’s guided me have seen to that. Those journeys have led me to some bizarre destinations. Confronted me with concepts I shouldn’t have to wrap my mind around but have with disturbing speed.
It’ll all start coming together—when I talk with Kara.
No. When she talks, and I listen.
I’m still jubilant that she agreed to this meeting, despite how she accused me of being too immersed in Dante to think straight. And yes, she was probably—okay, likely—right. I own that now.
But that was yesterday.
Today’s going to be different. Today, Kara’s going to tell me her story.
The resolution strengthens with every step I take toward the coffee bar, where Reg is singing along to a soft pop station.