"I really don't want to talk about my mother." It was likely all the answer he would get to his query about the shadows she stood in. Her mother had been a talented witch, to be sure, but maybe Lane was more caged by her death than her life. So much of her direction had been dictated by the woman that gave birth to her, and the death had left her in free fall for a while. Lane got a sense that wound would never really heal. Where they in a different situation, she might have blushed at the way he said "classically beautiful" since he was right about her features and the fact that she had only recently grown into them. She had never really been called pretty either, though "cute" had been bandied about plenty of times, but the word made her feel more like a Labrador puppy than an attractive young girl.<br/><br/>She glanced away from him, only to catch Vivienne looking at the two of them again. Viv was a small woman, but fierce in the specific way that little Italian women tend to be. She offered James a smile in response to his wave and then winked at Lane for good measure. There was no way Lane was going to get out of some kind of explanation about this apparent "date" later.<br/><br/>Her attention was immediately pulled back to the greened-eyed mystery in front of her when he threw the comment about her getting into her pants right back at her. She shifted back and forth in her seat, it might have seemed like an uncomfortable move, but really, he was getting to her. Each flirtation, each advance seemed to stir something, as if he knew just what button to push and the reaction it might elicit. It took all her willpower to hide the fact that with each step forward he managed to bring her closer to an edge she worried she would regret. So she fueled the nervous energy into a response to his question about pretending this was just a routine date.<br/><br/>"But you're not just some guy that came into my shop and asked me out," she began, "a normal guy would be uncomplicated, just like that little futuristic prediction you made for me earlier. That girl on that date might hope for a nice time, maybe that things would continue, but I'm not that girl and you're definitely not that, nice, uncomplicated guy, are you? Without ulterior motives, we wouldn't even be here." Her tone came off as something akin to scolding, though it was much lighter than if she was actually getting after him. Lane didn't want to deal in hypotheticals, not when there was truth to figure out.<br/><br/>"Two romances. Neither were great. One was actually rather terrible." In a way, he currently paid for the mistakes of Lane's past. A guy with a rebellious nature that pushed past some of her boundaries had seemed exciting and interesting at first, until he got a hold of her and what was once exhilarating had transformed into something volatile and emotionally abusive. Though her responses to him had been rather guarded, this was the first time pain laced its way through her expression. She willed it to fade as quickly as it had appeared.<br/><br/>When his own expression faltered, Lane realized she had found a hole in his armor, or at least a break in his carefully crafted carefree facade.<i>He loved her. He lost her. Is he looking at me and thinking she's in here somewhere? Seeing her face?</i><i>Maybe all the touching and need is just him flirting with a <b>memory</b>.</i>Perhaps she looked like a second chance to him, a way to regain something he had lost. It could account for some of his behaviour, but it did not account for the way she kept reacting to him. On some level, she enjoyed the attention and wanted it to continue, but Lane knew enough about human behavior to know that acting out such a shadow dance was unfair to both of them.<br/><br/>"James..." she said, her voice little more than a whisper. "I'm not her. If you came here for that, I can't help you."<br/><br/>It was a gentle plea that she hoped would serve as some sort of reality check. Even with her earlier thoughts of reincarnation, a soul being reborn in the same bloodline, that did not make her Adella. It would only mean they shared the base for their personality and life, but the experiences and world around Lane was much different than the one Adella lived through. They weren't the same person and would never be.<br/><br/>She watched him with curious eyes as he began to speak about why he needed the book, even more intrigued by both the length of his life and the apparent problem he had with an ex-wife of sorts. The story pulled at her heart strings in a way that Lane worked hard to resist. It was her natural way to help those around her, and had he entered her life with a sad story and a sympathetic plea for her help, she'd have given the book over to him without a second thought. It was his approach, both odd and entrancing, that caused her to go against that altruistic nature.<br/><br/>"You're talking about Joseph Drake. I've never seen anything in his journals about dark magic and Adella, all the records say she died in childbirth. " Lane's eyes narrowed at his revelation. Her family had a rather strict rule about not messing with darker magics, but now she wondered if Adella's demise was that rule's point of origin. Joseph had written a few passages in Adella's grimoire, but Lane had poured over other notes in the grimoire many times. They were scribbled in the margins like field notes, messy and methodical, and must have been the work of the man before her.<br/><br/>"You aren't lying." She confirmed what she already knew aloud. Something deep within her already knew he spoke the truth. It was just a matter of whether or not she was willing to help him, once she discerned his motivations. Despite the information he had given her, she still felt as if he held something back. Perhaps it was not even something he was conscious of, but she could not give away the power of the grimoire without absolute certainty.<br/><br/>"You ever get the feeling you're living someone else's life? Like you took a wrong turn somewhere and suddenly you're down the road and there's something calling you off that path? I've spent a lot of the time since I lost my mom trying to figure out what that was, and I-I haven't figured it out yet, but there's that feeling, sometimes, in the back of my mind that I'm meant for something more than this. Like the fates themselves have something in store, as they weave my future." It was the best answer she could give him about her so-called "crazy." She had no grand plan to changed the world or change magic, though she had managed to amass quite the library. If she let him look at the book and he didn't find what he was looking for, he might find answers elsewhere in her collection. It still remained a rather big if.<br/><br/>Lane looked at him a moment, her eyes searching his features as if the answer to her dilemma might be written upon his features. She pursed her lips in a way that was likely reminiscent of her long-deceased ancestor, even if her mouth was wider than Adella's.<br/><br/>"I'll let you look at the book after we're done here, but," she sucked in a breath and blew it back out again, "you don't need to try to sleep with me to get to it. Or buy me dinner. I have enough regrets in my life, I don't need to add to them. " Entering any sort of relationship, whether casual or something more, under the pretense that she was a reflection of some past love of his, would just end in pain. It was not something Lane wanted to risk.