Rasul had been all set to push for Jacob’s damn reasons when he realized what else Jacob had said, and now he was just confused, though also slightly hopeful. “Do you… mean you will date me?”
“I will pretend to date you.”
“You’re going to fake date me? To keep my agent happy and my stalkers off my tail?”
“Something like that, yes. But with several important conditions.”
Rasul shifted so he was cross-legged and facing Jacob. “Okay. Hit me.”
Jacob stared into his cup as he spoke. “First, I need to understand why hearing you’re dating me soothed your agent.”
“Because she thinks you sound like a good influence. She called me again this morning after researching you further. She highly approved of the fact that you weren’t on social media and had such great Google results. Apparently you’re some kind of upstanding citizen. She said, in fact, that she could see this relationship being the impetus that finally gets me to work again.” He rubbed his cheek. “I don’t know about that, but I mean, I’ll take anything.”
“So she expects me to… keep you in line? Out of trouble?”
“I don’t know that she expects that precisely, but she’s hoping for it, and at the very least wants to take me out of this weird limelight Adina put me in. Which is not what I’m hoping for. I seriously wanted to ask you out. Properly. Legitimately.”
“But it would help you if I filled that role?”
God, this was not how Rasul had wanted this conversation to go. He was hoping for angry passion. He could work with angry passion. He would’ve used it to launch Jacob straight into bed, or maybe onto this fine kitchen tile. He hunched his shoulders. “Yes. It would help. With the image problem. I don’t know about productivity.”
“You said, though, that you wanted to write at my kitchen table.”
Rasul glanced at it longingly. “I do. I really do.”
“Then it’s fine. We’ll pretend to date, you’ll use my kitchen to work, and everyone is happy.”
Rasul sure wasn’t happy. “How in the world are we supposed to pretend to date?”
“We say we are, to start. We meet for coffee, to go to dinner, and I drop by the college to say hello while you’re there. We take walks along the bay, and when people ask me if I’m dating you, I say that we are. You do the same. That’s how.”
Everything about that sounded exactly like what Rasul wanted, excepting one important thing. “But you won’t have sex with me.”
“I will decidedly not have sex with you, no.”
“And you won’t tell me why.”
“And I won’t tell you why.”
Dammit. Rasul picked up his tea and took a large sip. “I take it I’m not to try to change your mind?”
“You can try, but you won’t succeed.”
The cool, indifferent way Jacob told him he had no chance really turned Rasul’s crank. He settled against the doorframe again and studied the man. “Can I stay overnight?”
Jacob opened his mouth, paused, then frowned. “I don’t want you to, no. Not right now. But I understand that interrupts the fiction in a significant way.”
“I can stay late and work sometimes and then go home. That’ll give tongues enough room to wag.”
“That sounds feasible.” After draining his tea, Jacob set it aside.
He was maddeningly calm. Rasul wanted to rattle him, make him react. Yet at the same time, he wouldn’t dare. Not someone who so graciously offered to help him.
Not someone so obviously not interested in him.
Rasul gave in. “So, what’s next?”
“Next we go downstairs and let the fiction begin. If you still want to, I’ll get out the books for you to sign, but it’s not essential.”
Just like that. Goddamn. “Should… we set up another time to meet?”
“I’ll text you.” He paused. “Well, texting is probably difficult on your phone. I’ll call you.”
“Great.”
It was surreal as hell to climb to his feet and follow Jacob back down the stairs into the shop. Noise bled through the door, making it clear they were about to descend into chaos.
“Hey,” Rasul said before Jacob could open the door. “I’ve never fake dated before. Are there rules I should know?”
Jacob glanced over his shoulder at him. “What do you mean?”
“Like, touching. Can I do that casually, or no? Usually I do, but….”
He’d meant it to come off as flirtatious, but mostly he sounded pathetic.
Jacob turned back around. “We’ll play it by ear.”
The room was brightly lit and crowded with people, mostly women, who turned on the pair of them like locusts. They were huddled farther back in the stacks, except for one white girl with blond hair pulled back in a tight ponytail right beside the door. She looked familiar for some reason.
Rasul spied the store apron and realized she was the employee he’d startled that first day. He tried to give her a winsome smile, but he must have still been rattled from Jacob’s cool refusal, because she gave him an inscrutable expression and ran off.
The crowd pressed in, and for the first time in his life, Rasul wanted nothing to do with the people pleading for his attention. He’d resented the attention before, but right now he absolutely hated it. He wanted the safe cocoon of Jacob’s kitchen again.
He wanted Jacob.
Before he had a chance to wallow in the depressing truth, Jacob captured his hand and held it loosely as he addressed the room. “Rasul has agreed to a small signing of his works I have in stock. Anyone interested should see Gina at the checkout desk.” Then he turned to Rasul, giving him a smile that made his heart stop. “I’ll go get the stock. You go get settled with Gina, all right?”
“Sure,” Rasul agreed, too dazzled to argue with anything the man said.
Then Jacob lifted his hand and kissed it, and Rasul knew then that no matter what else happened, this man was going to ruin him completely.
He absolutely couldn’t wait.
Chapter Five
JACOB WAS fully aware he’d signed on to a disaster, that he shouldn’t have agreed to a relationship of any kind with Rasul. This said, he knew if he could go back in time and do everything again, he wouldn’t change a thing.
By the time he’d returned to the sales floor with Rasul, his phone had started buzzing constantly with notifications, so he put it in a drawer. He busied himself with talking to people, patiently enduring their quizzing about his new relationship, not giving them many answers but a lot of professional smiles, and always redirecting them to a selection of books they might enjoy. More than young women were in the store now, as Copper Point loved nothing more than a spectacle. Included in that number was a reporter from the Copper Point Gazette who took several photos of Jacob, the crowd, and of course of Rasul.
“Is it true that you’re dating Mr. Youssef?” the reporter asked.
Imagining Clark’s lemon-sucking face, Jacob kept his demeanor cool. “He asked me out, yes, but I didn’t realize my private life was headline news in Copper Point.”
The reporter glanced over her shoulder at the crush of people hanging on Jacob’s every word.
Rasul stepped in then, putting on the bright, easy countenance Jacob recognized from his other interviews. “Don’t mess this up for me, guys. I haven’t had the date with him yet. I don’t want to scare him away.”
“That wasn’t a date last night?” someone called from the crowd.
“No, that was just flirting,” Rasul fired back. Everyone laughed.
After a few more back-and-forths, Jacob got people calmed down and organized for the impromptu book signing. Moore Books had hosted signings before, but they’d always been local authors who, even if they had some significant following and respectable sales, mostly sat alone in a corner, trying not to look dejected. Jacob did what he could to support them, but the truth was most people weren’t attracted to signings unless they were at a large event
designed for that purpose. He’d known the situation wouldn’t be the same with Rasul, but he was taken a bit aback by how different it was, and how good Rasul was at his job. Gina had instituted a number policy for claiming books, and when his supply had been quickly depleted, she took down their contact information so they could order a copy and get their book signed on a different day. They still stood in line to see him, though, and even when his fans came up to him to do nothing more than giggle and gush and ask him to sign blank pieces of paper or various parts of their body, Rasul took it in stride and gave them as much attention as the people who’d been able to buy his book.
He was good at making people feel as if they were the only person on the planet, which was probably a lot of why he had such an intense fan base, whether or not they’d read his work. They approached him, desperate for a slice of him, and in a way, he delivered. Jacob noted, though, that Professional Rasul wasn’t the same as the Rasul who had sat on his kitchen floor, drinking tea and despairing, nor was he the man who had confessed his fears by the bay and then drawn Jacob into a dance so intimate he’d forgotten himself. Well, there was a little of that Rasul here today, but there was a shutter over him, welcoming people in, but only up to the fire door.
Perhaps it was hubris, but Jacob had the feeling he’d been admitted significantly further.
Rasul signed for three hours, and with the crowd showing no signs of stopping and Rasul exhibiting no indication he would turn a single soul away, Jacob called Gus.
“Can you send three lunches over here and three huge coffees?” He paused, realizing he didn’t know how Rasul took coffee or even if he drank it at all. Or if he was vegetarian or had any dietary restrictions. “I’ll text over more details, but do you have the staff to step out?”
Gus snorted. “Um, yeah, and I’ll bring it down myself. It’s pretty slow here, since everyone is down at your end of the street.”
Jacob winced. “Sorry. Though, hey—why don’t you bring some signage and coupons? I have the ones I usually pass out with purchases, but we could use more. We’ll send some of this traffic your way. They have to be hungry and ready for caffeine.”
“Will do.” A brief pause. “You gonna have some stories for me later?”
Jacob had already decided Gus and Matt were the two people he’d tell the truth to. “Can we have a Mini Main Street meeting for dinner?”
“Ooh. Absolutely. Text me what you need and I’ll be right down, but I’ll contact Matt in the meantime.”
Pocketing his phone—which still buzzed with notifications—Jacob wove his way through the crowd to Rasul.
Rasul gave him a bright smile as he approached. Astonishingly, he didn’t seem tired. “Everything okay?”
Jacob crouched to talk to him, aware of the many pairs of eyes watching him. “I have a friend bringing over lunch and some coffee. Do you have any requests? He runs Café Sól on University. They have soup and sandwiches and protein bowls.”
Rasul touched his stomach as if just remembering he had one. “I’m in the mood for a lot of meat with some fresh veg, especially tomatoes. Coffee sounds excellent.”
“You probably want the steak protein bowl, then. How do you take your coffee?”
“Strong, hot, and black.”
Jacob leaned in closer so his next question wouldn’t be overheard. “Do you want me to find a way to wrap this up?”
Rasul waved a hand. “Nah. Food and coffee and a little more water will get me through.” He grinned. “I get a contact high off of signings.”
Jacob put in the order and went back to managing the crowd. Before he knew it, Gus walked down an aisle toward him bearing a large bag, a tray of drinks, and a flask under his arm.
“Matt’s in for a seven o’clock meeting in the back room of my shop, and he’s bringing pizza.” Gus peered around the room, taking it in. “Wow, I’ve never seen it like this in here. You doing any sales, or are they all gawking?”
“Gina and I have nudged several of them into buying, and we sold out of Rasul’s books in the first hour, with over one hundred special orders of each title. He’s doing signings on paper now and posing for selfies. But they’re buying plenty of books.”
Gus whistled. “Nice. All right, let’s drop Gina’s order off, and then take me to the man.”
Jacob insisted on Rasul taking a twenty-minute break to eat, which caused a minor ruckus, but he whisked Rasul and Gus up the stairs to his apartment before anyone could complain too loudly.
“I’m August Taylor, nice to meet you,” Gus said to Rasul as they went up the stairs. “You can call me Gus. I own Café Sól up the street.”
“Oh yeah, I saw that shop on my way by yesterday. Looks like a nice place.”
“Thank you. Feel free to stop in anytime.”
They sat at the kitchen table, which had three chairs because a lot of the Mini Main Street Meetings were held here. For now it was Gus, Rasul, and Jacob, and Gus and Rasul immediately bonded when Rasul fell in love with his food and exclaimed loudly over the coffee.
“My God, this magical brew….” He took another sip and rolled his eyes back in his head. “Are you kidding? Is this vacuum coffee?”
Gus beamed, chin in hand. “It is. I’m impressed you can tell by the taste.”
“A friend took me into a shop in San Francisco that made it, and I wanted to live there.” He shook his head. “First a great bookstore, then culinary-level coffee. This town is full of surprises.”
Gus and Rasul chatted amicably all through the break, further bonding over coffee brewing techniques and international travel, since both of them had been a few places in their time. Jacob mostly listened, using the time to craft an exit strategy for Rasul and plotting what he wanted to say to Matt and Gus alone later. Thankfully Rasul gave Jacob the space he needed, and once they returned to the main floor, he went along with Jacob’s announcement that the impromptu signing would be over at three.
“I assure you, we’ll have Mr. Youssef back here again,” he told the disappointed hangers-on.
“And I intend to be here a lot, so feel free to say hello if we bump into one another,” Rasul added. This went over very well with the crowd.
Jacob arranged for Gina to give Rasul a ride back to his apartment so he wasn’t mobbed, since she got off at the same time, but he did speak to his fake boyfriend alone in the office briefly before he departed. “We can talk on the phone later to strategize some public dates.”
Rasul nodded. “I’ll leave you alone through the rest of the weekend. I should go get settled in my campus office anyway.” He ran a hand nervously through his hair. “I would love it, though, if I could try to work in your apartment during the day sometimes. I promise not to get in your way.”
“That’s fine. I assume you have a laptop? I can get you the Wi-Fi password, but I warn you, my connection isn’t the fastest.”
“Not an issue. I’ll work better if social media doesn’t load very well. Mostly I need to be able to look up research things on the fly.”
Jacob couldn’t hide an amused smile. “You do understand you could walk out of the apartment and into more research notes than you could possibly need? The library is also across the street.”
Rasul grinned back. “I did think of that, yes. I can order books through you too. Who needs Amazon Prime?”
Jacob sobered completely. “While we’re fake dating, I forbid you to utilize that site unless absolutely necessary, for anything.”
He held up his hands. “Understood.”
It was wonderful to watch the shop empty after Rasul left with Gina, though Jacob didn’t mind the influx of cash at all. He often operated at a razor’s edge, buoyed by the money his parents left him and some shrewd investments, and days like this translated into much-needed breathing room. He spent the remainder of the store’s open hours straightening the first-floor shelves and making notes on what needed reordering. Once he closed shop at five, he did the same thing to the upstairs. He had a shower and a change
of clothes, then a cup of tea as he indexed his online newspapers again once that was finished.
At a quarter to seven, he stuck a bit of cash in his wallet and started up the street to Café Sól.
Several people waved hello to him on his short journey, perhaps a few more than usual and with a bit more interest, but that was it. Inside the coffee shop itself, the patrons were a mix of students and local residents, and all of them tracked his progress through the main area to the small door that read STAFF ONLY beside the order pickup area.
The barista waved him through, used to seeing him there. Mini Main Street met a lot.
Gus and Matt were already established in the small staff room adjacent to Gus’s office at the back of the shop, cups of coffee and a pizza between them. Gus rose and waved at Jacob as he entered. “Excellent. I’ll go ask Lisa to start your order.”
Jacob acknowledged this with a nod and murmur of thanks, then sank into his usual chair.
Threading his fingers together and resting his elbows on the table, Matt leaned forward. “I don’t want to get ahead of things before Gus comes back, but holy cow, Jake.”
Matt and Gus were absolutely the only people allowed to refer to Jacob as Jake, and only in private. He slumped forward, then gave up and all but collapsed onto the table, his hand brushing the edge of the pizza box. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a fleet of tanks but had to pretend nothing was happening.”
Gus was already back and waving his hand impatiently. “How dare you start without me. Rewind and do it all again.”
“He’s exhausted,” Matt said to Gus, pulling out his chair for him without getting up. “Let the poor boy be.”
Gus wasn’t much for empathy, though. “Is it true? Are you actually dating the guy you’ve been fantasizing about for ten years?”
Jacob rolled his body to the side on the table and poked at the cardboard box. It was takeout from the Italian restaurant, not the chain store out in the strip mall. Mini Main Street had a code. “I’m not dating him, but you two are the only ones who get to know that. If anyone else asks, the answer is yes.”
The Bookseller's Boyfriend Page 8
