Page 3 of Just Curious

Jackson watched Willa’s face suddenly crumple in grief. Apparently, the tissues were a good idea.

In a shaky voice, she went on with her story. “My parents were there for graduation, and everyone was so happy and we had so much fun. Afterward, they helped me load all of my stuff into their car, and they dropped me off at the airport. I was planning to visit my friend in Boulder, Colorado for a couple of days and then fly home to La Jolla.” She paused to clear her throat. “I’ll never forget how they told me they were so proud of me, and I thanked them for everything and told them that I loved them both so much.” Willa’s voice cracked and she looked away for a moment. Her eyes were clearly tortured by a memory. “It was a good thing we all said those words to each other before they left. On their way home, they were driving down the coastal highway to enjoy the scenery. But as it got dark, a heavy fog rolled in, and a sleepy semi driver plowed right into them. I never saw them again.” She bowed her head and stopped speaking.

“Oh my god, Willa. I’m so sorry. How long ago was this?” Jackson wanted to wrap her up in his arms and keep all the sadness away, but he doubted that was quite the thing to do to someone he’d just met. It was amazing enough that she’d opened up to him.

“Five and a half years.” She took another deep breath. “You can imagine what it was like. I felt so alone, and the grief was positively crippling. I’m an only child, suddenly the owner of this house and the heir to my parents’ entire estate. Plus, I had to deal with the trucker’s insurance company. It was a nightmare that took a long time to resolve in court, though it did give me plenty of money to live on... well… forever.” She sighed and shook her head, “Anyway, the manuscript I’d given Deborah was the last thing on my mind. But—once in a while, Deborah would send a short text similar to the first one, although her messages grew further and further apart. I eventually realized about a year later that I hadn’t heard from her in months, so I called her number only to find it had been disconnected. All I had was a post office box and an email address, but I didn’t get any response from her no matter what I did.”

“So, I take it, this story has something to do with you watching the Academy Awards tonight?”

“Yes. It has everything to do with it. I finally decided to just forget about the book and Deborah. I convinced myself that the writing had to have been immature and she simply couldn’t find a publisher who was interested.” Willa took a fortifying gulp of her rum now that it had cooled enough and continued. “Apparently, I was wrong. Deborah Abrams now goes by the name Deb Abbey—or maybe that’s her real name and Deborah Abrams was fake. Anyway, she accepted an Oscar tonight for Best Original Screenplay. She looked familiar—remember I’d only seen her once, and it was years ago. I was curious and bothered by something about her, so I looked up the trailer for the movie and discovered to my absolute horror that she stole my book, wrote a screenplay—or had someone else write one from it—and won the damn award. Frommybook! I feel like such an idiot. How could I have let this happen?”

“Oh, Willa,” Jackson finally couldn’t resist and scooted closer to her so he could gently take her hand. “Don’t feel like you did a thing wrong. You were inexperienced and she took advantage of that. She probably recognized immediately how talented you are. You should be proud your book won the award. Isn’t there anything you can do to get back at her for plagiarizing your work though? Do you know any lawyers?”

Willa scoffed at his statement at the same time she registered how nice his large hand felt wrapped around hers. “I know lots of lawyers. My dad was a lawyer. But proving plagiarism is terribly difficult, especially since the only proof I would have had that I’d written the book was in the car… with my parents. All I packed when I flew to Boulder was a few changes of clothes. I had my phone, and that was all I cared about for a few days. The laptop was destroyed. I wasn’t using anything like Cloud storage back then.” She shook her head in apparent disgust. “If I claimed plagiarism, it would be my word against hers, and who would believe a college kid had written something award-winning?”

“Well, it’s happened before. And you have a track record of successful books after that one. That ought to count for something,” he countered.

“Maybe.” Willa looked down at her hands. “No wonder she wanted a thumb drive instead of an email with the file attached. That could have been all the proof I needed. The text messages she sent sounded more like someone looking for a bar or a nightclub because she never wrote out the word ‘publisher.’” Sighing, Willa continued, “Ironically, one of my inspirations was Gunnar Dahl. He was a few years ahead of me at Stanford, but he dropped out—already a multimillionaire—after his sophomore year. He said any more college was a waste of his time, and he had writing to do. I’m sure you know about all of his books and movies. I’d love to get a movie contract for one of my novels.”

“Sure. I’m a fan,” Jackson said with his crooked smile. “I’ve also read… um… one of your books. After moving in and hearing Kelly—the realtor—gush about you, I was curious.” Now it was Jackson’s turn to blush. “I must say, it was not exactly my normal genre of reading material, but it was certainly attention-grabbing… and… um…”

Willa laughed. “Steamy? Is that the word you’re looking for?”

“That one will do.” The sound of Willa’s laughter made Jackson’s insides feel all squiggly.I could listen to that forever. Lord, she sure is pretty, even in my huge jacket and with a runny nose. I would love to kiss that gorgeous mouth of hers.

Cocking her head to the side, Willa asked, “It’s none of my business, but I’m curious. Which one of my books did you read?”

Looking sheepish, Jackson thought for a brief moment and then blurted out, “The Passion of Three. God, I can’t believe I admitted that to you.” He loved the book so much, he read it twice. She could definitely tell a story—that was certain. And hot? Whew!

Willa countered, “Hey, there’s nothing wrong in exploring a new outlook on life.”Interesting selection, Jackson. She tried her best to not smirk at his obvious discomfort.

Chapter 4

Jackson sat staring out the window at the floodlit property and beach, wondering how Willa got her inspiration for her MMF romance. Was it from hands-on experience? The idea gave him ideas…

“So, enough about me and my many tragedies,” Willa said. “Tell me about yourself. Are you a native Californian?”

Jackson shook himself back to the moment and answered, “Yes, I grew up in Castroville on an artichoke farm that has been in my family now for three generations. I’m afraid I’m the renegade who needed to get out of farming and do something else with my life.”

“You don’t like artichokes?”

Chuckling, Jackson answered, “On the contrary. I love them. They taste great, they’re versatile, full of fiber and protein and low in calories, and they provide more antioxidants than any other vegetable, did you know that?”

“I was shockingly unaware,” she said with raised eyebrows and a grin. “You sound like a commercial, and they sound like the perfect vegetable.” Her blue eyes twinkled as she looked into his, and he was glad to see her cheering up.

“They are. I love to eat them, but I just didn’t want to devote my life to growing them. Since I’m a born nerd rather than farmer, I went to Berkeley where I studied computer science. I was still close enough to home that if they needed me in a crunch, I could be there. But my family respected my choice. My brother, who’s four years older, adores the farming life, so they know their business is safe with him. He actually went up to UC Davis to study agriculture with hopes of being more of an asset to them.”

“What happened when you left Berkeley?” She peered at him over the rim of her mug as she blew on the hot drink.

Jackson swallowed a lump in his throat. The way she did that… it could give a man ideas. “I had an offer right out of school to work for what sounded like a great startup. And it was a good experience for a while. I was living in Silicon Valley and made lots of valuable connections there. After a while, though, I got bored and needed to do something on my own. So, I tinkered around and came up with an app that did pretty well. Maybe you’ve heard of it. I called it Face-to-Face.”

Willa’s eyes widened as she gasped, “Youcreated Face-to-Face? I’m impressed. You must be really smart.”

Jackson barked out a laugh. “I guess. I get by, at least.”

“So, why are you living here instead of Silicon Valley? Isn’t that where the company is?”

Shaking his head, he explained, “I love creating things. When the product took off, I ran the company for a couple of years and then sold it to the highest bidder. I discovered that running a company isnotmy forte, and I don’t enjoy it.”

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