Merriment in the Museum - Book One in the Rock My Socks Off Trilogy Read Free Page B

the past week and a half, to want Jacob. But she didn’t seem to want him in the calculating way she wanted these other things. She seemed to want Jacob because something delicate inside her responded to him. Her manner seemed to say that although she couldn’t have predicted his existence, he made her smile. And that even though she was very, very busy and very, very focussed, she could always make time to laugh, and play, and perhaps love.
    He had never met anyone like her. That had been obvious at once. But the amazing thing, to him, was that she claimed she’d never met anyone like him, either.
    ‘You’re not a little boy who’s trying to compete with me, and you’re not a big boy who’s trying to own me, and you’re not a selfish boy who wants me just to shut up and fuck.’
    ‘Thank you,’ said Jacob.
    ‘You – you just are . Do you realise how special that makes you? How easy to be with? How nice to wake up next to?’
    He didn’t really know if he was special, but it certainly made him feel special to hear her say it.
    She was hugging him tightly in her strength-training-strengthened grip. She was almost tearful. ‘You make me feel that no matter what happens to all my distant stars, there’s something solid and organic in my life.’
    Jacob stroked her along the length of her back, laughing. ‘I’m like a bag of granola.’
    ‘Thanks for showin’ up, dude,’ said Brandon. ‘Gary totally wanted me to get your input on the photographer.’ He produced a crisp white envelope of sample photos.
    Jacob quickly wiped away the excess beer on their table, trying not to take offence at the vulgar implication that he, a professional writer, might have considered not ‘showin’ up’ for an appointed meeting with a representative of his publisher. Why Gary, his editor back in New York, had chosen this particular individual to represent him in San Francisco remained a mystery.
    ‘These are the three people Gary likes,’ Brandon explained. ‘They’re all here in SF and available.’
    Jacob squinted at the photos in the dim pub lighting, pretending that he gave a damn who was going to take pictures of rocking horses for Hip Hip Horizon .
    He could tell at a glance that all the photographers were competent, more than capable of doing justice to the appalling subject.
    ‘Excellent,’ he said noncommittally. ‘Which candidate does Gary favour?’
    ‘He’s sort of jonesin’ for this one,’ said Brandon, touching the part of the picture you’re not supposed to touch with his beer-moistened forefinger. ‘Susan Weedon.’
    ‘Oh, good,’ said Jacob, handing back the materials. ‘She’s my first choice, too.’
    The lights went down a notch further – though Jacob wouldn’t have thought it possible – and a throb of house music replaced the pop that had been playing. A fluorescent light revealed a DJ rising from his cocoon in a booth in the far corner, and a few figures began to float out onto what passed for a small dance floor.
    Their business was concluded, but Jacob hadn’t finished his beer. He was comfortable where he was, and he knew that Normandie might not be done in the lab until almost midnight.
    ‘So, Brandon,’ he said with forced affability, ‘what are you studying?’
    ‘Y’know, like, communications,’ Brandon replied absently. The young man’s attention was clearly wandering as the dance floor began to heat up. Now Jacob understood why Brandon had suggested they meet at this particular pub at the hour of 10 p.m. This was evidently where he had planned on spending the next chunk of his evening.
    ‘Very nice,’ Jacob said drily. ‘Look, I’m going to nurse this beer a while, but you don’t have to babysit me. If you’re eager to get out there and –’
    He didn’t even have time to finish the thought before Brandon had hopped up and joined a group of lithe young women.
    Jacob could see Brandon through their eyes – an easy-mannered, nimble young guy in hip clothes,