Chapter Four

Still ensconced in my bedroom, I don't hear Kate return home, don't even know that she has until there's a gentle tap on my headphones. I remove them to hear, "Did you at least eat?"

"I ate, and even took some breaks. You really didn't need to get Christian to nag me too."

"He called?"

My wide smile is her answer. "Oh, and he said to ask you about secure communication?"

My bed creaks in protest as she collapses onto it, moaning, "Oh, God. His PR team went on and on about the need for security, and yesterday I had to endure a lecture by email from him too. And I've known all that shit for years now; it's Journalism 101 in this digital age. He sounds like a bit of a control freak."

Remembering that he mentioned control as one of his aids, I decide to keep that to myself, and instead ask, "Does he have a particular need for security?"

"Not that I'm aware of, though I honestly couldn't find much info on him, so his people are good. But it's pretty standard for someone with his wealth. I've got all the guidelines on my computer. I can send that to you, and help get you sorted, and then you two can chat without worrying that anyone is listening in." With a wide grin, she adds, "Except me, of course."

She's joking. I hope. "Would you please do it now?"

"Fuck, Steele, I just got home."

"And I'll make mac 'n cheese while you're doing it?"

Kate giggles and stands up to kiss my hair, and say, "Deal, Steele. I hope he's worth all this trouble."

"We're just friends, Kate." Best to quash any romantic notions she has before they get out of hand.

She's already heading for the door. "Whatever you say, Steele."

"I'm serious."

Something in my tone halts her footsteps, and she asks, "What did he say?"

"Just...not to expect too much from him, at least for now."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

Cringing inwardly, and trying to convey authority, I explain, "It means don't get your hopes up, okay? He has reasons for wanting to keep it platonic between us."

"What reasons? The guy's sending you gifts, and calling you."

"Just reasons, okay?" When she doesn't reply, I beg, "Please, Kate. I'm happy to be his friend."

After an excruciating few seconds, she gently asks, "But you definitely like him?"

I know she doesn't mean as a friend. An image of fire flashes through my mind. "Yes."

"And he likes you?"

Amazed that my skin cooperated this long, I can't help blushing as I say, "Yes."

"And this is what you both want?"

She'll give us some room. I breathe a sigh of relief, and say, "Thank you."

Her footsteps are heading away from me as she says, "None of my business, Steele. Now make me my dinner."

After dinner, I message Christian from the account that Kate set up for me, and he calls me back to say, "Please thank Ms. Kavanagh for me. And thank you for cooperating."

"You thought I'd refuse?"

"No. You seem intelligent. But I...occasionally women rebel against procedure." I'm somehow certain that he's talking about ex-lovers. When I take too long thinking about how to reply, he says, "Just ask me, Anastasia. I may not always be able to give you a satisfactory answer, but I won't lie to you. And I trust you to keep it between us."

"So, you have dated?"

"Like I said, it's complicated. But I'm not a virgin, if that's what you're getting at. Not by a long shot."

Grateful that he can't see my red face right now, I ask, "How does that work if you don't like to be touched?" Even as I ask, I realize my mistake. "Oh, you touched them."

He laughs gently, and says, "In a nutshell, yes."

Trying to imagine it, and desperately trying not to imagine it at the same time, I complain, "Seems like every question you answer leads to more."

"You're wondering why that's not an option between us?"

"Yeah. I mean, I'm content with friends. It's just all so confusing."

"I know. I'm sorry, but in this you'll just have to take my word for it, okay? What I had with them is not for you."

Did he pay them for sex? Desperate for some relief from the angst, I joke, "Not a kiss and tell kind of guy, huh?"

His laughter is a promise. "No, ma'am."

"Is this something to do with your life before you were adopted?"

"You've been researching me." He sounds pleased.

"Kate volunteered a few things from her research. She says you're more than handsome, by the way. I believe the term 'freaking hot' was used more than once."

"Oh, really? Is she single?"

I'm certain he's joking, but it hurts more than I expected. I can hear the irritation in my voice when I reveal, "Last I heard."

"I'm teasing, baby. Nothing in my many communications with Ms. Kavanagh made me want to touch her."

"Except maybe to push her away, so she'll back off?"

"Exactly. She hounded my team relentlessly to get that interview. I'm very glad that I finally agreed."

He's talking about meeting me, and I giggle, "Me too."

"I really do like your laugh."

Oh, God, he's fire again. "I don't think it's fair of you to speak like that."

"Like what?" He knows what I'm talking about. I can hear it in his voice.

"Like you want to touch me."

There's a sharp intake of breath, and then he gently says, "In my defense, I would like that very much. That, and much, much more."

I don't even know what he's talking about, and I still want it. I want it bad. "Has anyone ever mentioned that you're a very frustrating individual?"

His laugh is a benediction. "Frequently. Now go to sleep. It's late."

"This doesn't feel like any conversation I'd have with a friend."

"I certainly hope not. Too much?"

He seems in earnest, so I push through the confusion to examine my feelings. "No. It's okay. I'm just not sure what we are, or what to do with how you make me feel."

"We are Anastasia and Christian, which means whatever the fuck we want it to. And I recommend a good wank. I'll even stay on the line, if you wish?"

"Good night, Christian." He's still laughing as I hang up.

The week becomes a blur of study, work, too much time flirting with Christian, and more study...okay, and an occasional wank. He's right. It helps a little. But it's not fire.

The only excitement is Friday when José visits with a bottle of champagne, to invite us to his first proper photo exhibition. He's been a good friend, and it's a real regret that I can't see his work. Kate tells me that he has talent. Right now she teases him, "It's about time. I love your photos, but I'm running out of wall space to hang them."

The cork pops, and he says, "Don't worry. I'll remember you guys when I'm rich and famous. So, you'll come?"

He's sweet, but often obtuse. "Still blind, amigo."

"I know that, Ana. But...please, I'll be so nervous without you there. The gallery is accessible. I checked. You might not even need your cane." His voice is a field of wheat on a summer's day.

I smile and point out, "José, you'll be nervous whether we're there or not."

"True." He gently touches the back of my right hand, so that I know to accept the glass of champagne. I've never lived with him, but he's actually better than Kate is at recognizing my needs. When he's sure I have hold of it, he takes a step back and pleads, "But you'll come?"

Raising the glass in celebration, I vow, "May God strike me blind if I miss it."

I hear Kate choke on her drink, and José exclaims, "Dios mio, Ana. You can't say things like that!"

I sometimes forget that he was raised a Catholic. "Sorry, couldn't resist."

Only after José has left does Kate say, "You know he wasn't inviting both of us to the exhibition, right?"

"Of course he was."

Her laugh is gently mocking. "No, he wasn't. He barely looked at me the entire night. I think he's still got it bad for you."

"I don't think so, Kate. We had the talk when he asked me out that one time. He knows that I value his friendship, and that's it."

"Maybe he knows that before his third glass of champagne. Watch yourself around him, okay?"

"God, Kate. We've all been friends since freshman year. What the fuck do you think he's going to do?"

"Nothing, I guess. But you're such an innocent. I worry about you. And you didn't see how he was looking at you."

"This is crazy. He's my friend."

"Like Christian?"

Good point. "No, not like Christian. All right, I'll pay closer attention, and have another talk with him if I think it's necessary."

"Thank you. Okay, incoming."

One thing she always gets right is to announce hugs in this way. I really don't like it when even friends just grab me. As we embrace, I whisper, "We're almost adults, aren't we?"

She kisses my cheek and releases me to tease, "Steele, you've been an adult since we were kids."

I swat at her, but she's already out of reach. "Yeah, well someone has to be the adult around here."

Her laugh is memories. "Sweet dreams, Mom."

As her footsteps recede, I suddenly worry that there might be a champagne flute or cork between me and my room, but instantly realize that José would have cleaned up, even if Kate forgot. Just thinking his name means that I'm frowning as I get ready for bed. But the braille card is still on my nightstand, so I ultimately fall asleep with a smile on my face.