Love at the Electric (A Port Bristol Novel Book 1)

by Jenn Hughes

  Like the hammer of Glen Bean on the chest-plate of Brog the Destroyer in InnerRealm, Ravi’s words struck home in Sam’s mind. He’d been going about everything all wrong with Lillian. She was still weighing the evidence like Rik said, so Sam needed to provide more to prove his case. A few jokes at his expense on late-night TV might tell her he’d at least decided to drop the charade he’d been 100 percent hot his entire life, but didn’t have a thing to do with showing her how much he loved her.

  Sam had left her to figure everything out on her own while he focused on conquering her most heavily defended area—her heart. And all he should have done was show her she didn’t need the defenses.

  Show. Don’t tell.

  Sam smiled. “Ravi, you’re a genius.”

  “That’s what the test said,” Ravi corroborated, taking another bite of cookie. “I guess you’ve come up with an idea for winning Lillian over once and for all. To thank me, you can go ahead and give me the okay on moving forward with this obviously legitimate and well-planned gaming division—”

  Sam held up his hand. “You’ve got my attention on that. But first, do you have that green screen in your office?”

  “Yep. I’ve nearly finished my Galaxy Trek fan video.”

  “Good. I need to use it. Cedric?”

  Cedric beeped. “Yes, Sam?”

  “Call down to marketing and tell them it’s all hands on deck. I need professional audio and video equipment and some extras—tell them to steal anyone who doesn’t look busy. And tell Tyler to cancel all my meetings for the rest of this week. And call my accountant. Now. I’m about to ruin his day.”

  “Yes, Sam.”

  Sam smiled at Ravi. “You and I are going to make a movie.”

  “Okay. Genre, please.”

  “Horror, Ravi. A horror movie to show Lillian how much I love her.”

  Chapter 34

  Familial Fainting Goats

  Lillian shuffled the stack of DVDs on the floor in front of her. For thirty minutes, she’d been sorting through and tossing them aside, searching for something specific. Her beloved collection of DVDs, at one point in alphabetical order and arranged neatly in the cabinet underneath the TV, lay strewn across her apartment floor. She sighed. Again.

  “Stop that,” Tessa growled from behind her.

  “Stop what?”

  “Huffing. It’s like the hundredth time.”

  “I can’t believe it isn’t here . . . ”

  “Maybe that’s a good thing.”

  Lillian looked over her shoulder and gave Tessa an irritated glare. “It’s a good movie. Don’t be a grouch.”

  Tessa rolled her eyes. “Terminal Winter is an action flick about a sweaty, grunting cop who tries to stop a Christmas Eve robbery and save a bunch of hostages from a group of sweaty, grunting criminals. Booooring.”

  Lillian chewed on her tongue and kept her eyes on the pile of DVDs in front of her to keep from saying something she’d regret. She was, after all, the one who had begged Tessa to make the drive up from New York again. In the snow. And the pre-holiday nightmarish highway congestion.

  Lillian needed someone to take her mind off things. One thing. A thing named Sam. Sisterly fun with Tessa had seemed the perfect temporary solution. But after her initial interrogation over what happened with Sam, Tessa had maintained a bratty attitude for the remainder of the evening. And Lillian had nearly reached her boiling point.

  “It’s for fun. Not every movie has to be an art house feature in French with Spanish subtitles.”

  Tessa dropped down onto the floor next to Lillian. She crossed her legs and picked through the DVDs, carelessly tossing one after the other off to the side. “You know who you should be watching this with . . . ”

  “Don’t.”

  “Lil. The guy humiliated himself in front of the world for you. See?”

  Tessa shoved her phone in front of Lillian’s face, and Lillian didn’t have to focus on the screen to know what she’d see. A floppy-haired, blue-eyed, sweet young man with a pencil-thin frame and a smile on his face despite the thick glasses hiding most of it.

  Tessa swiped, and Sam appeared in a blurry Polaroid shot, this time no more than ten years old and wearing a sombrero the size of a flying saucer. Lillian wanted to swipe again. And again. Over and over, as if it somehow brought him closer to her . . .

  But she pushed the phone out of her face and continued her search. “I’ve seen. And I can’t assume anything about Sam’s motivations.”

  “I can. It’s pretty obvious. He’ll do anything to have a relationship with you.”

  “Yes, well, there’s more to a relationship than public humiliation and liking the same movies,” Lillian snapped, pretending to read the case of a World War II submarine action flick.

  “How would you know?”

  Simmer.

  Simmer.

  Boil.

  Two hundred and twelve degrees Fahrenheit had been reached. Lillian looked over at Tessa, who stared back without a trace of intimidation. That remark had been in the barrel for more than a little while. Lillian’s jab about presuming to know anything about relationships effectively cocked the trigger. And the simple question hit hard in all its ugly, painful glory . . .

  True. Don’t forget to throw true in there.

  Lillian had no argument for it. No cross-examination. No quick strike to put her baby sister back in her place. Instead of the fire she usually felt welling up inside as a searingly logical argument formed in her mind, something different built up instead.

  Tears. Big, burning tears. The harder she held them back, the more they hurt. Finally, she caved. They slid freely down her face. Bitter little waterfalls. What a comeback.

  “Oh, no . . . Lillian, don’t cry . . . ”

  Tessa lunged over and wrapped her arms around Lillian’s shoulders. She squeezed her so hard, Lillian almost choked.

  “I’m so sorry, that was such a stupid, bitchy thing to say. Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean—”

  “Yes, you did. And you’re absolutely right,” Lillian interrupted, the words weak and wavering. “I don’t know anything about love or relationships. And now I’ve pushed away the only man I think I’ve ever really loved because I’m too afraid to trust him. Or myself. Or that the universe might simply let me be happy for five minutes. God, why am I like this?”

  Tessa let go and leaned back, a frown marring her otherwise beautiful face. Now she was holding back tears, too. Lillian felt terrible. More than she did before, which hadn’t seemed possible.

  Seconds passed in sisterly sniffling. Lillian’s tears continued flowing. No shoring up the dam with a joke like usual. Tessa reached over, gave her another squeeze, and then sniffed again as she sat back on the floor.

  “You’re like this because you’ve never been given a reason to trust in anything good. It was no one’s fault Mom got cancer, but I was too young to help out. Dad was drowning in debt and work. So you were the only one left to hold it all together. Totally not fair for a kid to have to deal with all of that, but it happened. And it’s never stopped happening, has it? Cancer, law school, Richard—you were the one left holding the baggage. I get it. But you’re a romantic, sis. You want to believe in a happy ending. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t buy so many romantic comedies,” Tessa said, grabbing one of Lillian’s DVDs and tossing it into her lap. “Don’t let fear of a bad thing ruin a good thing.”

  “You’re making me sound like a basket case,” Lillian groaned. Tessa smacked her on the arm. “Ouch!”

  “Oh, please. That didn’t hurt. Listen, falling in love doesn’t make you crazy, sis . . . Well, it kinda does, but it’s supposed to be a good kind of crazy. The kind where you want to be with someone and take care of them and give each other stupid nicknames that make everyone aroun
d you want to gag. Sound familiar?”

  Lillian smacked Tessa on the arm in retaliation and replied, “I never gave Sam a nickname.”

  “You would have if you’d given him a chance. Trust doesn’t materialize. You take the leap, ignore the meaningless little things like multi-million dollar corporations and neurotic backstories throwing a wrench into everything, and build trust. It takes time.”

  Lillian shook her head. “That’s the problem. It isn’t Sam I don’t trust. It’s me.” Tessa’s face scrunched in confusion, and Lillian couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve looked for reasons to run, but Sam has this way of bringing me back around. I fall for him, and when I do, it’s wonderful. Then I panic and find another reason to run because I’m worried something terrible might happen. The worst of it is I blame him. I can’t do that to him anymore. I’m the problem, Tessa.”

  Tessa sighed. “Why are you making this so complicated? You’ve been my hero my entire life. Did you give up on law school because Mom and Dad couldn’t afford to help you? No way. You worked two shitty jobs for years and now look at you. You’re a huge success—”

  “Was a huge success. Jobless, remember?”

  “Whatever. That Ravi guy practically begged you to work for him. I mean, honestly, Lil. You’ve got all these big shots trying to hire you and . . . and you’re afraid of falling in love with a hot guy who’s crazy about you?” She took Lillian’s face in her hands and shook her head gently. “You’re losing out, and no way in hell is my big sister a loser. No, my sister is a fainting goat.”

  “What?” Lillian asked, her mouth smushed by Tessa’s palms.

  “A fainting goat. Love makes you panic, and then you seize up. Shut down. But you’re not really a goat, so it’s not even remotely as cute to see you paralyzed with your stiff little legs up in the air. So stop panicking when you love and are loved. You are fearless in everything but that, and weakness doesn’t suit you.”

  Lillian tried to smile, but with Tessa’s hands still on her face, the effort only made her cheeks puff out like a chipmunk. “Can you let me go?” she asked.

  “Are you going to stop being a goat?”

  “Yes.” Tessa released her, and Lillian rubbed her face. “You’re right. Again. Aren’t you getting tired of that?”

  “Not really. I’ve spent so many years being wrong that this feels fantastic.”

  “Well, this evening should make you feel even better.” Lillian looked over at the wall clock and sighed. “Ugh, it’s nearly midnight.”

  “Call him!”

  Lillian shook her head. “Not yet. You’ve made a lot of terrific points and, yes, I understand I keep using the past to hold me back when it comes to Sam. But we keep getting our wires crossed and I make a mess of things. I need to figure out how to say all of this to him, and it can at least wait until after my meeting with Ravi Ganesh.”

  “But Lil—”

  “No buts. To see my problem is one thing, to correct it another. I can’t continue making the same mistakes with Sam, and I’m too tired to think straight. Help me find that stupid movie. I need the distraction.”

  After a pretty severe eyeroll, Tessa returned to picking through the DVDs. Lillian sat quietly, rubbing her burning eyes. It was too late to think, and so all she could do was hope.

  Hope she didn’t feel like shit when she woke up in the morning.

  Hope her meeting with Ravi surpassed her incredibly low expectations.

  And hope Sam meant it when he said he’d wait until she figured things out.

  Chapter 35

  Leveling Up

  Lillian slid across the vinyl seat of a booth in Old Henry’s. Their booth. She leaned back, resting in a sea of warm memories. It was the booth where she met Sam for the second time, and loved him for the first.

  It didn’t take long to mar those memories. An ugly reminder took center stage.

  What the hell am I going to say to him? Confess I’m an overly emotional goat and hope he doesn’t mind?

  Five minutes until noon left little time for deciphering that DaVinci code. Lillian focused on the immediate. The incoming onslaught of Random Ravi. She took out her leather portfolio stuffed with files and notes for their meeting. There would be lots of deciphering once he arrived. Sam’s reputation preceded him, and so did Ravi’s—a next-level genius with the conversational skills of a caffeinated squirrel on Ritalin combined with a cookie habit bordering on addiction.

  As she reviewed the operating cost calculations provided by Origin’s accounting department, someone stuck a white paper napkin in her face and waved it around. Lillian looked over to find Richard standing next to the table. His sharp three-piece suit clashed with the uncharacteristically worried look on his face.

  “You won’t shoot if I’m waving a white flag, right?”

  “I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” Lillian retorted. She returned to her review of the paperwork in front of her, hoping if she ignored him he’d go away.

  “Mind if I take a seat?”

  She looked up at him, stone-faced and in no mood to entertain. But he did appear genuinely scared, and Lillian thought there might be sport in letting him wriggle in front of her. She pointed at the empty seat across the table and returned to her work.

  Richard slid into the booth, jarring the table on the way and nearly sending her pen rolling off. She grabbed it at the last second, and then slammed it back down away from the edge. Richard smiled. Lillian wondered what he’d done this time.

  “Do not ask me to help you again, Richard. I’ve done all I can. Gone above and beyond so—”

  “I’m here to help you this time. Hear me out.”

  She leaned back and crossed her arms. “This should be interesting.”

  “Let me start by saying thank you. Thank you for helping me win back Emily. For getting her to finally listen and for the dinners and—”

  “Don’t forget the ice water bath in the middle of the crowded restaurant.”

  “I was getting to that. Really, I’m sorry about everything. I never should have said anything about Sam. I didn’t think the guy had it in him to change, but he found a woman to change for—you. Don’t let me and my big but articulate and handsome mouth ruin this for you. You deserve a happy ending.”

  Lillian took it all in. The words with a ring of truth. The actual emotion in Richard’s eyes. The same eyes, and wicked smile, that stole her heart all those years ago . . .

  But he hadn’t stolen it. Not really. Lillian had saved her heart for a better man, and falling for Sam helped her understand everything that had happened with Richard and Emily in college. No need for explanations. She’d never stood a chance back then. And thank God for that.

  Then the stupidest thing popped into her head. Preston made everyone repeat an asinine mantra at the end of every meeting—breath out what you were, breath in what you will be. It seemed ridiculous at the time, but it suddenly made a lot of sense. Lillian breathed out. Let go of those muddled up feelings tethered to Richard Bryant. Let go of the whys and why nots. And then she let them all float away. Fifteen years too late.

  “Thank you, Richard. I appreciate it.”

  “Oh, that’s not all you’re going to appreciate.”

  He unlocked the briefcase he’d placed next to him on the seat, and then pulled out a thick folder filled with papers. He dropped it onto the table with a dramatic thud. Lillian stared blankly at the jutting pages and coffee-stained folder.

  “And that is?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

  “My gift to you.” He patted the top of the folder. “I know your moral compass forced your hand and made you quit Mythos, and I don’t think Preston should get away with what he’s done. As luck would have it, the Laverys weren’t quite as clever as they thought they were when they covered up Sam and Ravi’s owner
ship of Thrones of the Guild Planets. It took some digging, but I managed to find a trail.”

  Lillian’s eyes widened like she’d been handed a map to the Ark of the Covenant . . . until she remembered finding it usually didn’t end well for people. “Richard, is this even admissible? How did you get this?”

  “Not admissible. Sorry. The prize of taking down Preston Lavery won’t be won as easily as walking into the ITC headquarters and dropping this onto the inspector general’s desk. But, it’s a start. It will point you where you need to go to get legitimate dirt on him. If anybody can get him, it’s you, Lillian.”

  “Did you obtain this illegally?”

  Richard smiled. “I wouldn’t say my methods were illegal. My official statement is that this wound up in my possession due to a filing error.”

  She grinned back at him. “Right. Thank you. Again.”

  Before he could respond, the waiter brought over the fries and cherry soda Lillian had preordered for Ravi. Richard leaned over to grab a french fry, but Lillian slapped his hand away.

  “I appreciate the help, but you will not be rewarded with bar fries and cherry soda today. They’re for someone else.”

  “Who?”

  “A pro bono client. Ravi Ganesh.”

  Richard sneered. “Good luck with that.”

  “Yes, well, he’ll be my second trial of the day. Ten more and maybe I’ll be welcomed into Mount Olympus as the goddess of patience.”

  Chapter 36

  Rude Code and How to Rewrite It

  The longer she waited for Ravi to show, the more Lillian’s nerves got the better of her. Finally, she couldn’t stand another second of not speaking to Sam and grabbed her phone.