Imagine With Me: A With Me In Seattle Novel Read online

  “Excellent idea.” I reach across the table, offering Shawn my hand. “I’m Lexi.”

  “Shawn,” he says, shaking my proffered palm. “Pleasure to meet you. Your book is excellent, by the way.”

  I smile, and for the first time since I met him, I don’t want to strangle Shawn O’Callaghan. “Thank you.”

  “Now, let’s get to work and make it into a movie, shall we?”

  “Let’s.”

  “You have to get me out of this.” I’m sitting on the bed in the bedroom of my rental, scowling at my agent, Martha, over FaceTime. “Today. Right now. Pull the plug, Martha. I’m not doing it.”

  “What in the hell happened? It’s been one day.”

  “Shawn O’Callaghan is a control freak and an egotistical jerk. He’s decided he’s in charge of everything, and he’s trying to change my story. I was hesitant in the beginning, but now I want nothing at all to do with this. Get me out of it.”

  “That’s not possible,” she replies. “That contract is ironclad. You can give up your co-writing rights and go home, but they’ll still make the movie without you. If you leave, you have no creative control at all.”

  I lean my head back in frustration. “The working conditions are so sterile. White and industrial. No pillows or cushions, no soft colors.”

  “You can’t expect it to look like your office,” she says with a laugh.

  “Of course, not. I know I’m being silly, Martha. I’m just so uncomfortable. I’d rather be holed up at home, writing something new.”

  “Then why did you push for the creative control in the contract?”

  “Because this is my story, and I want to make sure they stay true to it. I want it to become a movie that I’m proud of.”

  “Luke Williams doesn’t produce duds, Lex,” she says with a laugh. “It’s only the first day. Take a deep breath, eat some chocolate, and get some sleep. Give it a chance. Maybe you and Shawn will hit your stride.”

  “Or I’ll just hit him,” I mumble. “He’s so hot. It’s a waste.”

  She barks out a laugh. “Stop complaining and go enjoy the personal chef and the hot coworker,” she advises. “And if it becomes unbearable, go home. Leave it to Luke.”

  “I’m not quitting,” I admit with a long sigh.

  “I know you’re a bit agoraphobic. And shy, as well,” she says with a gentle voice. “If it makes you feel more comfortable, take some pillows with you. Ask for a different chair. Do whatever you have to do to be comfortable.”

  I nod, thinking it over. “I could probably order a few throw blankets from Amazon and have them delivered tomorrow.”

  “Absolutely. You’re a creature of habit, and you work better and more efficiently when you have a routine. Get cozy. Kick ass. Then get the hell out of Seattle.”

  I smile at my friend. “I’m lucky to have you, Martha.”

  “Hell yes, you are. Now, go get ‘em, tiger. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  She hangs up, and I immediately open my laptop and start shopping on Amazon. I’m going to make that conference room as cozy and comfortable as I can.

  “What is all of this?” Shawn asks the next afternoon as he returns with a tray of sushi for lunch. My deliveries arrived just after he left.

  “I need some things to work.” I pull out the first blanket and sigh in pleasure. It’s teal blue and soft as can be. Next comes a plush, yellow pillow.

  “You bought bedding for in here?” He takes a bite of a California roll and watches me with interest.

  Today hasn’t been quite as bad as yesterday, although we haven’t agreed on much—we’ve just been less volatile about it.

  “I need texture, color, and softness,” I explain as I pull a package of my favorite pens out of the box. “I need to feel comfortable, or I’ll continue to be short and moody.”

  “By all means, order all of the bedding you need,” he says. “Hell, I’ll buy it for you if it helps.”

  I can’t help but let out a little laugh.

  “You’re gorgeous when you smile.”

  I glance his way. He’s stopped eating his lunch. Instead, he’s watching me.

  “Thanks.”

  “You don’t smile often,” he continues.

  “Honestly, there hasn’t been much reason to smile.”

  He takes a bite of his lunch. “Sorry I was late again today.”

  Forty minutes this time, but who’s counting?

  “I think I might have to get a rental flat here in the city. The commute is awful.”

  I simply nod as I drape my new teal blanket over the back of the chair I’ve been using.

  “What else did you buy?”

  “Nothing yet. I wanted to see how this worked first. I’m glad we’re able to frost these windows so they can’t watch us all day.”

  “Not much of a people person, are you?”

  “Not at all. I want quiet and privacy. I need to think.”

  “I agree,” he says, surprising me.

  “You do?”

  “Absolutely. I don’t know how any of them get anything done.”

  “They’re young,” I suggest. “Like you.”

  “You’re not much older than me.”

  I smile again, and Shawn’s green eyes narrow on me. “Thank you for that, but I’m thirty-six, Shawn. You haven’t even reached thirty yet. How is it possible, by the way, that you’ve already done such wonderful things in your career at such a young age?”

  “I’m a stubborn goat,” he says with a proud grin. “At least, that’s what Ma tells me.”

  “If the past twenty-four hours are any indication, I’m inclined to agree with her.”

  He laughs and finishes his sushi, then opens an energy drink and takes a sip. “We should get back to this scene.”

  “And we were being so civil,” I murmur. “Back to battle for us.”

  “It doesn’t have to be.”

  I sit and organize my new pens. “We can’t seem to find common ground, Shawn.”

  “It’s early days yet. We’ll get there.”

  The look I send him says, “Yeah, right.” He shrugs. “Or we’ll kill each other trying.”

  “It’s a good thing I had my will drawn up and my estate planning done before this trip.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  “Because I was flying, of course.”

  He frowns. “You had a will drawn up because you were about to get on a commercial flight?”

  I nod. “You just never know what might happen, Mr. O’Callaghan. I’m in favor of being prepared.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone uptight enough to do that.”

  I want to bristle at his words. I want to list statistics and facts. But it wouldn’t matter. I am uptight. I have been all my life.

  And I’m done apologizing for it.

  “I’m ready to dive back in,” I say.

  “Okay. He needs to grip her shoulders in this scene.”

  “No.” I shake my head and stand, pacing the room. “I have it written that he cups her face.”

  “Lexi, that won’t work.” He sits back in his chair and tosses his pen onto the table. “You have to think of camera angles. In the book, that camera is in the reader’s head. But this is going to be on a screen. If we have him cupping her face, we won’t be able to see her face. He needs to hold onto her shoulders.”

  I hate that he’s changing so much of my story. Hate it.

  But in this instance, I understand what he’s saying.

  “At the very least, he needs to wipe away her tears. The scene is intimate, Shawn. More intimate than shoulder touching. And because this is a thriller, there aren’t many intimate moments. Most of it is fast-paced and suspenseful.”

  “Agreed,” he says, typing furiously on his keyboard. “We can have him wipe the tear. That will have impact. Now, let’s change the part where she plunges her fingers into his hair…”

  I’m going to kill him.

  Chapter 2

&nb
sp; ~Shawn~

  The ferry is going to be the bloody death of me. Death. Of. Me.

  It’s late. Again. It’s Friday, my fifth day commuting into downtown Seattle from the island, and I think it’s safe to say this isn’t working. I didn’t want to temporarily relocate to the city, mostly because my family is on the island, and I like being close by if anyone needs me.

  I can even pitch in at O’Callaghan’s Pub whenever Keegan is shorthanded. And my brother is shorthanded more often than not. But my siblings and I don’t mind taking a turn pulling taps and bussing tables once or twice a week.

  In fact, we enjoy it. The Celtic music and friendly customers make for a fun evening.

  But I may have to take myself out of the rotation and spend the next three weeks, give or take, in Seattle so I can work on this project with Lexi.

  How a woman can be so stunningly gorgeous and infuriating at the same time is beyond me. I can’t remember the last time I was so mesmerized by the way a woman smiles. And then want to turn around and strangle her the next instant.

  Lexi’s an enigma.

  And she’s going to be pissed, again, at my tardiness. She hasn’t said a word, but the way she puckers those kissable lips and narrows her eyes at me speaks volumes.

  Honestly, I can’t blame her. Being late is a huge pet peeve of mine. My ma would have my hide if she knew I was late every day this week.

  On the ferry docks, I make my way through morning traffic, ready to pluck my eyes from my head by the time I pull into the parking garage for Williams Films.

  As expected, Lexi is sitting at the table, squinting at her computer, a bright orange throw blanket draped over her legs.

  “I know, I’m sorry,” I begin as I hurry inside. “I’ll move to a hotel this weekend.”

  “How long does the commute take you?” she asks.

  “About ninety minutes, give or take.” I open my laptop and sigh as I drag my hand over my face.

  “I got this for you.”

  She passes me a cup of coffee.

  “Oh, thank you.”

  “The chef said he remembered how you take it,” she replies. “I figure the commute’s been a pain in the ass. You need it.”

  I blink as I take a sip and stare at her. In moments like these, I feel as if we could be friends. Lovers, even. She’s kind and thoughtful, and when her lips tip up into a smile, I want to bend her over the table and fuck her seven ways to Sunday.

  “This scene is all wrong,” she announces. And just like that, I’m reminded why I want to spank her ass.

  “Give me five minutes to let the caffeine soak in before we go at each other,” I reply and take another sip. She sits back and waits, sips her drink, and fiddles with the blanket in her lap. “Is that a new blanket?”

  She nods.

  “You have quite a thing for linens.”

  She smiles, and my heart stops.

  That grin is a dangerous weapon.

  “I always have, ever since I was a child. I even turn the air-conditioner down in the summer so I have to wrap up in a blanket to get warm.”

  I raise a brow. “It’s always cool at my house. I live on the water, so it doesn’t get too hot, even in the summer.”

  “That would be lovely,” she says. “Now, can we talk about this scene?”

  “I don’t think you’ll let me get out of it,” I reply. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Again, you’ve taken the intimacy out. He has to cradle her to him, to reassure her.”

  I shake my head in frustration. “We’ve gone over this a thousand times this week, Lexi. You have to consider the blocking of the scene. If he cradles her the way it’s described in the book, we won’t be able to see them on camera.”

  “I disagree.”

  “Okay.” I push my hand through my hair and grab my phone. I set it up across the room, balanced against a water glass, and hit record. “Come here.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Why?”

  “I’m going to prove my point. Come here.”

  She carefully stands from her chair and walks around the table to me. I glance at the book to remind myself what happens, then reach for her hand and tug her into my lap.

  “Now, the way you have it written, I’d cup your cheek like this,” I press my hand to her cheek. “And then I’d kiss you like this.”

  I lean in, but I don’t press my lips to hers—no matter how much I want to.

  “I’ll play it back in a minute to show you that we can’t see you. But first, I want to show you how I wrote it. Instead of cupping your cheek, my hand would be down on your neck, leaving your face clear for the camera. And now if I lean in to kiss you—” I lean close but don’t actually touch her lips with mine. It’s torture. Her scent is fresh and clean, and I want to kiss her more than I want to breathe. But I hold myself back. “We’ll be able to see it on the camera,” I finish.

  I boost her to her feet and then fetch my phone. Sitting next to her, I play it back.

  She hasn’t said a word, and her hand is a little shaky as she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.

  “Here, see?” We lean in together and watch as I explain the difference between the two. “In the first one, I can’t see your face at all. But in the second, I can. That hand makes all the difference.”

  I refuse to comment on the intense look in Lexi’s eyes as she stares at me, or dwell on the way my hand landed on her ass while I had her in my lap.

  Or how it felt to have her seated on me, pressed against me, my lips just centimeters from hers.

  Nope, not gonna entertain that.

  “I see it,” she whispers. “Excuse me, I have to use the restroom.”

  She jumps from the chair and hurries out of the room. Jesus, did I take it too far? She’s like a frightened rabbit.

  I play the video back on my phone. The sexual chemistry sizzling between us could fry an egg. Her gaze flicks from my eyes down to my mouth as if silently begging me to kiss her.

  I don’t know that anyone has ever looked at me like that.

  And the kicker is, I’m giving it back ten-fold. Just watching the video gets me hot and bothered.

  I tuck my phone away and walk out to the kitchen for another cup of coffee. I’m going to need all the caffeine I can get.

  If she fidgets in that chair one more time, I’m going to make her sit in my fucking lap again.

  “I can’t concentrate like this,” I announce with a sigh. “You can’t sit still, those idiots out there are loud as fuck, and all I can smell is fish from the kitchen.”

  “Yeah, whoever ordered that should be shot,” Lexi mutters with a cringe. “It’s only two in the afternoon. We could probably finish work for today at my Air BNB. It’s not far.”

  I’m already shaking my head. I can’t believe what I’m about to suggest. Just the mere thought of it means I should be committed.

  But I don’t see a choice.

  “I want to permanently move our workspace to my house on the island.”

  Lexi frowns and then starts shaking her beautiful head.

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Shawn.”

  With the way she says my name, I’m not convinced it’s a good idea either.

  I’m a fucking tosser.

  “You can’t get comfortable. No matter how many pillows and blankets and extra bloody pens you bring in here, it’s not going to change the fact that you aren’t comfortable. I’m also ready to throw myself off a bridge. Just the idea of coming back here Monday morning makes me want to scream.”

  “So you want me to commute to you?”

  “No, I want you to move in with me.” Her eyes go round in surprise. “I can honestly say I’ve never said those words to a woman before.”

  My lips twitch in humor. I want her to say yes. I need her to say yes.

  “We’re not accomplishing much here, Lexi. We’re a week in, and we’ve only written three scenes. This isn’t working. Bring your blankets and pillows to my place. It’s a hell o
f a lot more comfortable, I’ll tell you that.”

  She stands and paces to the window that looks out at the Seattle skyline.

  “Where will I sleep?”

  I scowl. “In my guest bedroom, of course. It’s a suite, actually, with your own bathroom, as well.”

  “Does the door lock?”

  “Jesus, Lexi, I’m not asking you there so I can have my bloody way with you.”

  “I didn’t say you were.” She turns back to me now. “I’m uptight, remember?”

  “It’s hard to forget.” I cross my arms, waiting for her to make a decision.

  “I’ll go with you, as long as you agree to bring me back to the city if I decide I hate it there.”

  “Agreed.” I jump out of the chair so quickly you’d think it bit me on the ass. “But you won’t hate it. I have ocean views, no neighbors, and it’s a hell of a lot more comfortable than this place.”

  “Personal chef?” she asks with a grin.

  “Okay, you’re losing that, but I have a way in the kitchen myself. You won’t go hungry.”

  “Your Irish accent comes through when you’re worked up a bit,” Lexi points out. “Most of the time, you don’t have a lilt at all, but there are moments when I hear it.”

  “I was a toddler when my parents moved us here,” I say as I finish packing my things into my briefcase. “My younger sister, Maggie, and I don’t have much of an accent. But the older siblings have more of a lilt.”

  “How many O’Callaghans are there?” she asks as she folds a blanket.

  “Five,” I reply. “You’ll likely meet them.”

  She pauses and stares at me. “Why would I do that?”

  “Because they all live on the island, and I see them often. Don’t worry, they don’t bite.”

  I wink and gather our things.

  “I don’t have much to get from the rental,” she says as we walk to my SUV. “I never unpacked all the way.”

  “Were you planning to run away?” I ask and watch as she flushes from her neck to her cheeks.

  Damn, I bet she does that when a man’s inside of her, too.

  “I thought about it, but no. No running away.”