Page 96 of Dream Lake

“How could I have missed that?” Alex wondered aloud.

Sam continued with enthusiasm. “Skyrebels is the most played game out there. They sold over five million in the firstweekof release. It’s a role-playing open world format that features nonlinear emergent play, and it’s got this incredible graphic fidelity with self-shadowing and motion blur—”

“In English, Sam.”

“Let’s just say it’s the biggest, best, coolest time waster of a game ever known to man, and the only reason I don’t play it twenty-four hours a day is because I occasionally need to take a break for food or sex.”

“So have you heard of Jason Black?”

“One of the top game creators of all time. Kind of mysterious. Usually a guy in his position speaks at a lot of gaming industry events and award shows, but he keeps a low profile. He has a couple of front men to do appearances and speeches for him. Why are you asking?”

Alex shrugged and said vaguely, “Heard he might want to buy property on the island.”

“Jason Black could afford to buy the entire island,” Sam assured him. “If you have a chance to do anything associated with him or Inari, take it and run.”

***

“Is it a game like Angry Birds?” Zoë asked a few days later, when Alex told her about Skyrebels.

“No, this is an entire world, like a movie, where you can explore different cities, fight battles, hunt for dragons. There’s a potentially unlimited number of scenarios. Apparently you can take time out from the main quest to read books from a virtual bookshelf or cook virtual meals.”

“What is the main quest?”

“Damned if I know.”

Zoë smiled as she scraped cooled melted white chocolate from a small saucepan into a bowl. She and Alex were alone at the house on Rainshadow Road. Sam had gone to visit Lucy in New York, while Justine had volunteered to stay with Emma at the Dream Lake cottage. “I’m not doing it for Alex, I’m doing it for you,” she had told Zoë. “You should have an occasional night when you don’t have to worry about Emma.”

Setting aside the empty saucepan, Zoë said, “Why would anyone want to spend that much time in a virtual world instead of the real one? You could go to all the trouble of making a virtual meal, but you still wouldn’t have a real dinner to eat.”

“Gamers don’t want a real dinner,” Alex said. “They like things you can eat with one hand. Potato chips. Pop-Tarts.” He laughed at her expression, and watched, intrigued, as Zoë used a spatula to mix the white chocolate into a bowl of whipped cream. “Why are you stirring it like that?”

“I’m folding it. If you stir it the regular way, it won’t be fluffy.” She cut the rubber spatula vertically through the bowl of whipped cream and liquid white chocolate, swept it across the bottom of the bowl and up the side, and over the top of the mixture. Each time she finished the movement, she rotated the bowl a quarter turn. “See? This way it keeps the mixture light. Here, try it.”

“I don’t want to ruin it,” Alex protested as she gave him the spatula.

“You won’t.” She put her hand over his, and showed him the motion. He stood behind her, his arms around her, while she guided his hand deftly. “Down, across, up, over. Down, across, up, over… yes, that’s the technique.”

“I’m starting to get excited,” he said, and she laughed.

“It doesn’t take much for you.”

He gave the spatula back to her, and nuzzled into her curls as she finished folding the batter. “What are we making this stuff for?”

“White chocolate strawberry shortcake.” She dipped a fingertip into the rich whipped cream and turned in his arms. “Taste.”

He tasted the cream from her finger. “My God. That’s good. Give me another.”

“No more after this,” Zoë said sternly, dipping her finger once more into the bowl. “We need the rest for the shortcake.”

Her finger was drawn into the warm suction of his mouth. “Mmmn.” Bending his head, he shared the taste with her, his tongue sweet like white chocolate. Zoë relaxed against him, her lips parting. The kiss lengthened, turning lazy and deep, while his hands slid over her arms and shoulders. Grasping the hem of her T-shirt, he began to pull it upward, and she stopped him with a little squeak of protest.

“Alex, no. We’re in the kitchen.”

His lips dragged gently to her neck. “No one’s here.”

“The windows…”

“There’s no one for miles around.” He stripped the shirt away from her. His mouth caught hers with a sensual greed that made the down on her neck and arms rise. When she felt him pulling down her bra straps, she tensed uneasily but let him do it. His fingers, so clever and sure, went to the back of her bra and unfastened the tiny hooks. One… two… three. The straps and elastic webbing fell away.

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