Page 28 of Outside the Lines
The barista probably still thought I was buttering Lydia up. If she only knew. “Is that all?” Her hand was paused over the cash register.
“Umm.” She’d been the one to tell me the other day that Simon liked his coffee super hot. “Do you have a travel mug or something that’ll keep a cup hot enough for Simon?”
She lowered her hand and peered at the mugs. “You know, there’s this new one that’s supposed to keep drinks blazing hot for up to four hours.”
“Let’s give it a try.”
I left Stomping Grounds with a little paper carrier for mine and Lydia’s coffees, and a bright blue high-tech travel mug full of the hottest coffee they could legally sell me. Couple minutes later, I rang the doorbell at the back of End o’ Earth while standing where Simon had knelt and sucked me off last night.
Weird. So weird. Stranger still when Lydia opened the door and beamed at me. “God, Ian, you don’t have to bring coffee every day!”
“I really do.” We were both laughing as if everything were normal and wonderful . . . and maybe it was. She took the carrier and eyed the travel mug while we walked out to the front of the store. “It’s for Simon,” I said. “The barista said he likes it hot.”
A sly smile. “Yeah, he certainly does.”
I nearly tripped. “Uh— Well.” The heat in my face was intense. “Yeah.”
Damned if Lydia’s smile wasn’t sunshine too. How the hell did they do that?
“I asked Jesse to come in a little earlier if he was free, to give you and Simon additional time this afternoon. I know you need to get that finished.” She nodded over toward the set.
That was nice of her. “I do. Thank you for that.”
She took a sip of her coffee. “Dude, I understand deadlines. Probably more than Simon does.”
I put Simon’s mug down and finally scored a pull of my own coffee. It was warm and earthy and wonderful. “How’s your work going, anyway?”
“It’s good.” She fiddled with her cup. “I wish I could show you, but . . .”
“Hey, I know all about intellectual property and non-disclosures. The only reason I can build the set here is that everyone’s seen the grove already. I do wish I could see some of your stuff, though.”
She stood straighter. “Really? I could show you my comic. Or some fan art.”
I perked up. “Sure!”
A few minutes later, I was in her studio at the back of the shop and wow, Simon hadn’t been kidding about the comic. What I saw of it was awesome. Lydia had an incredible sense of story and layout, and the art was top-notch. “Youneedto get that out in the market.”
She grinned up at me.
Since I knew her not-so-secret passion, I smiled back. “Got any Wolf’s Landing stuff?”
Blush to high heaven. Bingo. I knew she had to have some fan art of the show.
She cleared her throat and spoke. “Yeah.” She was using one of those drawing tablets and the pen slid across the surface. “But don’t tell anyone.”
“Eh, they’re okay with fan stuff, as long as no one sells it, you know?”
She nodded, and a moment later I was looking at an image of the characters of Wolf’s Landing done up in the style of an ’80s movie poster. Yeah. Lydia coulddraw. She had the actors down pat. I saw those folks pretty often and what was before me wasthem. Then my eye honed in on something else and I croaked. “There’s a rune on the altar.”
“Yup. It was added at the end of last season, during the mid-season finale.” She peered up at me.
Oh shit. There wasn’t a rune on my altar. Or on the plans. Or the photos the production manager had given to me. “You . . . sure?” My voice sounded shaky. I took a sip of coffee and hoped she hadn’t noticed.
Of course, she had, given the concern in her voice. “I can show you screen caps . . .”
She navigated to Fandom Landing, the most popular of the Wolf’s Landing fan sites and logged in. In a forum dedicated to screen caps, she brought up a thread—and there it was. Proof my set’s altar was wrong. “Shit.”
“I mean, if it’s not on yours, you can add it, right?”
