The Hundred Year Wait Page 2

  As she travelled through London she thought through everything she knew about Myron. If she wanted to win him over before he shut her off completely she needed to figure him, and his dislikes, out quickly.

  He'd been impeccably dressed in a grey suit and waistcoat with the shiniest shoes she'd ever seen, so being well kept would be a priority. Her best clothes would be needed just to get close to his level. Thankfully she'd been smart and sophisticated in her choice of attire while in London, and, just in case she bumped into him again, she was equally groomed today.

  Intelligence would also be a key factor. His level of brilliance would feel so much higher than hers so she would need to be careful not to say anything that he'd find annoyingly stupid. She suspected being silent and learning would be a safer way to handle him than speaking when unsure.

  With his arrogance and commanding presence she imagined some flattery would help her case as well as a slight subservient attitude. Both would need to be subtle or she might come across as desperate or perhaps even manipulative, but she could think on her feet. On top of that she would need to show some sense of humour or wit, or she would blend into the background like a secretary or doorman at a hotel. Someone who was only meant to be ignored or talked at.

  She'd spent hours already, replaying their first meeting through her head and analysing every word and gesture. So far she thought she'd probably been too keen to help and forward with what she thought the answers were, which may have annoyed him, although, Sebastian hadn't seemed to care. Before she could satisfy the obsessive desire in her to go through it all again, the taxi pulled up outside Sebastian's flat.

  As usual, Mrs Wintern answered her knock on the door and ushered her inside.

  “He's up and about. I've heard the floorboards creaking as he paces back and forth.” She waved Amelia up the stairs, making her grin. Sebastian had only been in bed once when Amelia had arrived and only because he'd had no clients for a few weeks and hadn't been expecting her.

  “You're early,” he said as soon as she opened the door. He stood in front of the case board. The overlay with her characters was back in place over the one she'd written the strange email on, giving her no indication of whether he'd finished solving it or not.

  “I'm always early,” she pointed out and took her jacket off.

  “You're even earlier than normal,” He switched his attention to her, running his eyes over her, as he did every time they met, “and you barely slept. What's wrong?”

  “Nothing's wrong.” She went to stand beside him and stare at her characters, hoping he wouldn't pick up on anything else.

  “You've done your hair differently. The French braid is very elegant, and the choker, that's new. You're making an effort, but the perfume is less obvious and you're still wearing your wedding ring so you don't want it to be too noticeable.” He grinned and waited for her to react to him, as he always did when he'd figured out something she didn't want him to.

  “Evidently it was not subtle enough.” She shook her head in mock annoyance, all the while smiling.

  “Well, he's a lucky fellow, either way.”

  “Hmmmphhh, you're assuming he'll appreciate it.”

  “Ah, so it is brother of mine.”

  She bit her lip and stamped her foot, annoyed at being so easy to read.

  “It is not an obvious deduction. You mentioned you liked intelligent men and I doubt you met anyone at the book signing yesterday who you expect to see today.” She nodded at his assumptions. The book signing had gone well but no one had stood out of the crowds wanting to be photographed with her.

  “My effort is likely to be entirely wasted,” she replied, knowing the chances of bumping into him again were slim.

  “He is rather reclusive.” Sebastian nodded once and fixed his gaze back on her plot notes. For now the conversation on Myron was over. With a deep breath she tried to join him in working out the best combination of motives, character traits and circumstances to make the plot gripping and unpredictable. Despite her best efforts, it only held half her attention, while Myron's personality and traits held the other half.

  The two hours before her next signing slipped by in a barely registered haze. With the little they had left to work out they should have been done before time ran out but the need to move on to the bookshop came before all the details were finalised.

  “You really are distracted by Myron, aren't you?” Sebastian put down the pen. She nodded.

  “I don't expect that it matters much. I'm unlikely to even meet him again, let alone get him to like me, and like is only the first of many stages.” She pulled her jacket on and neatened her hair.

  “Of all the women I've met, you're the first to show an interest in my brother that I can believe in. You're also the first I've thought might interest him.” He handed her the notebook she'd been jotting ideas down in.

  “There is still an element of chance that may never go in my favour.” Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “I may never meet him again,” she explained and gave him a wry smile.

  “Ah...” He scanned her face as he trailed off, making her wonder if she'd said something stupid.

  “What?”

  “His car has been outside for the last ten minutes.”

  “He's probably waiting for me to leave.” Despite her brush off, every muscle in her torso tensed at the thought of him being so close to her.

  “No. He would ask you to go if he wanted to talk to me. The only other possibility is that he's here for you.” Her eyes went wide and she froze to the spot while her brain tried to fathom a why. “Stay calm and go on. Don't keep him waiting.”

  “Thank you, Sebastian.” She stood on her tiptoes to give his over six foot frame a kiss on the cheek. With that, she rushed from the flat and down the stairs, only checking her pace by the front door. Rain pattered down outside but she'd not thought to bring an umbrella.

  When she strode outside Myron's driver leapt up and opened the car door for her. After exhaling in an attempt to calm herself, she stooped and got into the car. Somehow she found herself sitting beside Myron Holmes while managing the potentially undignified entrance with enough grace that it boosted her confidence. A second later the car pulled off and she could only assume they were on the way to the bookstore she was scheduled to sign at.

  “Good afternoon, Mr Holmes,” she said, giving him her attention. Today he wore a deep blue suit and, if possible, looked even better than yesterday.

  “Increased heart rate, flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. Are you nervous, Miss Jones?” Myron replied instead of greeting her.

  “I always get nervous before a book signing. I'm put on show for everyone to see and fans are notorious for putting their celebrities on a pedestal that's impossible to stay on.”

  “Yet you chose your profession.”

  “For the most part my profession allows me to stay in the comfort of a familiar place and be paid to invent and solve whatever predicaments I want my characters to face. Every job has a downside.” Mycroft blinked but made no response. She waited for him to explain why he'd picked her up as she definitely wasn't saying anything more about why she was nervous.

  “My sources inform me that your next novel involves some, characters, of a North Korean nationality, as well as a particular incident with them that closely resembles a case my brother recently aided with.”

  “The storyline was his suggestion,” she said before she realised Myron wasn't the sort of man to appreciate interruptions. He pursed his lips together and waited for her to stay quiet.

  “I cannot allow you to publish it. Will you promise to never attempt to show it to anyone.”

  She looked away, thinking about her response. Writing a novel took a lot of effort and scrapping one entirely was a lot to ask of her. At the least it could damage her reputation with her fans. On the other hand, cooperating with Myron would be more likely to get her in his good graces and maybe lead to a friendship opportunity.

  “If I publish it wh
at would happen?” she asked, wanting more time to think but not wanting Myron waiting in silence.

  “I will be forced to stop you. I'm sure I can find some reason to have you incarcerated, even if I have to plant the evidence.”

  “I don't mean to me. What are you trying to prevent by stopping me?” Her words were met with silence and she had to wait for him to process the request. She guessed he wasn't expecting it.

  “At least two of our agents would be endangered as well as months of planning at best. And at worst, we would find ourselves at war with North-Korea.”

  “Then of course I won't publish it.” She smiled at him and he nodded his gratitude. “I would never deliberately put lives in danger, especially British lives.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I do have a request, however.”

  “Go on,” Myron replied, although the severity of his tone made her wonder if he meant it. She carried on anyway.

  “Can I re-write the novel with guidance on what needs changing? It's a lot of work to discard completely, not to mention the financial implications...”

  “I'm sure you can be helped with sales to make up for the loss,” he assured her, interrupting.

  “Thank you, but I'd rather know I've truly earnt my sales. I'd prefer to re-write the story. It would also give me an excuse to talk to you again.” She closed her mouth around the last words, shocked she'd said them.

  “My assistant will liaise with you, not me.” He gave her the same fake smile as he'd given her on parting the day before. She shrugged. She'd taken one plunge but it appeared to have gone unnoticed. Something had to happen before she got to her destination or she'd always feel like she wasted an opportunity.

  “Shame. Although, you can't blame a girl for trying.”

  “Trying what?” Myron raised both eyebrows again.

  “I've decided that I like you, Mr Holmes.”

  “That will soon change. Most people find me unpleasant,” he replied and gave her yet another fake smile. It was meant to put her off but it just made her more keen to get him to genuinely smile.

  “It's too late for that. I'm a very loyal person and I've already made my mind up. I like you.”

  Myron turned away from her and shook his head. She bit her lip knowing she'd gone too far too soon. Now she needed to try and pull it back. Thoughts of conversation starters ran through her head but none of them came out of her mouth.

  “You appear to no longer be nervous,” Myron pointed out, giving her another way in.

  “I have company and...” she tapped her knuckles on the window. “tinted glass. I can't be seen until I get out. I find it hard to know what to say to my fans. Most of them are smart and socially adept enough that I find them easy to talk to, but a few I struggle with...”

  “Are you trying to relate to me, Miss Jones?” he interrupted.

  “I was simply trying to explain my nerves. I have a responsibility to them when I do these events. When I fail to make a connection with them I run the risk of making them feel invisible, and if they already feel low... I suppose I appreciate them in their own way.” She shook her head, struggling to explain and already aware she'd said far more than she'd intended to in trying to cover up the real reason for her increased pulse.

  “Or your nerves were unrelated to your upcoming public appearance. You've made more of an effort about your attire than yesterday as well.” He looked smug but didn't give her full eye contact for her to tell if he minded. She found herself chuckling. Both him and his brother were more observant than she stood any chance of getting around, so she decided to stop trying to fool him then and there.

  “What I said is true, mostly, but you're also right,” she paused to take a deep breath. “I have another request to make if I may?”

  “I think you've already said enough, Miss Jones.”

  “Just hear me out. I think I've cooperated enough to earn that.”

  “All your cooperation earnt you was your continued freedom. I've already made a concession in allowing you to try and rescue your novel. I will not be making any more.” His every word bit into her but she ignored it anyway.

  “I want to learn from you. I know your brother isn't as clever as you and I'm not even at his level, but I'd like a chance to be, entertaining.”

  “No. You may like me, Miss Jones, but the feeling isn't mutual. I've never met a woman I've liked.”

  “I'm not asking you to have me as a friend, but you're the best. I'd really like to learn from you... Think of it like having a pet.” As soon as she finished speaking she wished she'd thought of a better word. A pet implied more than she wanted it to.

  “A pet?” He sneered.

  “Yes, like a cat or dog. You can teach me some simple things for your amusement.”

  “So you get access to my mind, and all I get is amusement?” The knuckles on his left hand whitened as he tightened his grip on the umbrella handle.

  “You get a loyal pet and you can teach me what you choose. If you find I'm not quick enough at picking things up you can stop.” She bit her lip, hoping she'd explained herself well enough.

  “A pet, also implies ownership.”

  “Yes, that's where the analogy falls down. I admit, it's not a perfect example of what I mean.”

  Her words were greeted with silence and his disdain was evident on his face.

  “No, Miss Jones, as entertaining as it might be for a few minutes, I am not interested in the idea.” Myron's words were said so crisply she knew it was pointless to continue. She'd done all she could and saying more wouldn't win her any more favours. She'd have to hope Sebastian put in a good word for her and tipped Myron over from a no to a maybe.

  While the car wove through the last few streets, she ran their conversation through her head, hoping to glean some information from it. During this, it dawned on her that not even his brother had a copy of the newest novel. Myron or his people had hacked into her computer. He could have deleted it himself and told her she couldn't publish it. Instead he'd told her himself and given her options. Something had made him choose to see her again. The realisation made her suck in her breath and her heart raced in her ears.

  The car pulled up outside the bookshop and ended any opportunity she might have to explore her most recent thought. A line of fans stood in the rain, waiting for her. She knew she couldn't keep them out there any longer. It was time to say goodbye. She turned back to Myron to find him staring at her, but not with an expression she could read.

  “Thank you for not just deleting my novel, Mr Holmes, and thank you for the company.” She considered putting her hand out to shake his but knew he wouldn't accept it.

  “Enjoy your signing,” he replied and looked away.

  “I'll try to,” she replied as the door nearest her opened. After taking a second to fix a smile to her face she got out. Instantly she was met with a blast of cheering, clapping and people calling her name. The nerves dropped from her with each step towards the foyer and each splatter of rain that landed on her.

  By the time she was inside she had pushed Myron from her mind and focused on her fans. Before she could want assistance a middle aged, blonde woman in a knee length black skirt, plain shoes and jumper came gliding towards her. Amelia glanced at the name badge pinned to her chest. Sue was the manager.

  “Amelia, you're early. Why don't you come to the staff room for a few minutes and have a hot drink before we start?” Sue didn't wait for her to reply but took several steps towards the side of the shop. She stopped when she realised Amelia wasn't following. Instead Ameila gazed across the open foyer, taking in all the details. A table was set up to one side with a soft chair, pens and a poster of her latest book announcing the start time of the signing.

  “No. It's raining and there are people outside without umbrellas. I'll get started right away.” Amelia smiled to take the edge off her words, but the manager still frowned at being overruled. This wasn't according to Sue's plan and Amelia knew she would have to re-adju
st the plan herself. She shook hands with the two clerks who came up to her, both realising this was their cue.

  “Let's get as many people out of the rain as we can. Have them form a queue from the table and around the edge,” she said to a young man barely old enough to be out of school. He hurried off so she turned to the girl who stood beside Sue, eagerly awaiting further instruction. “And...” She trailed off as Myron walked past her. She blinked and stood with her mouth open, unsure why she would see him inside the shop. Sue coughed.

  “Sorry, ummm... Why don't you find the people in the queue who need to buy their books here. Get them to buy them while they wait and form a second queue I can prioritise.” The girl nodded and hurried off to join her companion, leaving her with Sue who still looked like she could murder someone.

  “Why don't you get back to your normal work. I have everything I need and can handle the crowds. I'm sure you'd rather be looking after your shop than having to keep an eye on me,” Amelia said, giving her the warmest smile she could manage. They shook hands and Amelia found she had a few moments to survey the area while people rushed around her, enacting her suggested changes.

  Almost immediately her eyes found Myron, who sat at a table in the cafe area, staring at her. She gave him a smirk and turned her back on him to switch her attention to her fans. He could watch her if he wanted.

  Chapter 3

  The waitress disturbed Mycroft as she brought him the tea he'd ordered. As soon as she was gone he looked back at Miss Jones. When he'd warned her not to publish her novel he'd expected far more resistance. Creative types didn't tend to respond well to being censored in any way. Yet she'd acquiesced, and she'd been clever enough to realise he could have deleted it and bypassed obtaining her cooperation altogether. It didn't mean she was of an exceptional level of intelligence but at least somewhat observant and rational.

  Her proposal had also been unexpected. When she'd first told him she liked him, he'd thought it would lead to being asked out on a date. A request to be his student in a sort of pet like way showed more understanding of his attitude and temperament than most people grasped. Although he'd refused without hesitation, he found himself considering her suggestion. He could find out how clever she was, while keeping himself amused, and discard her when he was no longer entertained. Her pet analogy was flawed but it did hold some sensible ideas. A pet was more loyal than a normal student.