Second Chance for Romance полностью

I glanced at Trip to see his reaction. He and Wren had had an argument on the way home from Savannah. He’d told me a little about it before our workout. The short version was that Wren had wanted to have sex with another couple after the wedding. She’d been drunk at the time, and Trip had said no. Wren being Wren, she wasn’t happy that she didn’t get her way.

She was still sulking about it, evidently. I shared Trip’s opinion that she knew she’d been wrong but didn’t want to admit it. I briefly thought about teasing her, but knew better than to poke that bear.

“So,” I asked Christy instead, “why are you in such a good mood?”

“I just am.” She beamed up at me, bright as sunshine. She skipped ahead and turned to walk backward in front of us. “I talked to Siobhan this weekend.”

“Oh?”

“Mmm hmm. She gave me a bunch of pointers.”

“About what?”

“How to teach figure drawing.” She rolled her eyes theatrically. “I showed her your sketches, an—”

“Wait. You did what?”

“I showed her your sketches. I hope you don’t mind. You left your sketchbook in your studio. I sort of borrowed it.”

“Sort of borrowed it?”

“Yeah. She said you have a good eye.” She twirled and fell in beside me again. “She also liked your building idea.”

“Hold on. You took my sketchbook. Just… took it.”

“I put it back.”

“That isn’t the point.”

“Sorry. I hope you don’t mind. You left it sitting out. And you’d already showed it to me, so…” She shrugged, unabashed. “I thought it’d be okay. I mean, it isn’t like I’m trying to steal your ideas. Besides, I thought of something you might add.”

“Wait. What? Slow down. What’re you talking about?”

“I thought of something you might add,” she repeated. “You know, to your model. Of the building. When you build it, that is. I was telling Siobhan about how you came up with the idea. I couldn’t remember all the architecture stuff like canti-whatsits and curtain halls, but—”

“Cantilever and curtain walls.”

“Right. Those. Anyway, we mostly talked about the design. I… um…”

She danced ahead, spun, and walked backward. “I think it needs something else.”

I arched an eyebrow.

“Art.”

“Art?”

“Exactly! It’s supposed to be a museum, right? What does a museum have? Art! So I was thinking…” She turned without a dance step and walked beside me again. She was silent so long that Wren leaned forward to look at her.

“You were thinking…,” I finally prompted.

“Well, you’ll probably think I’m silly, but…”

“I already think you’re silly. Go ahead and tell me.”

She gave me a shy grin, and her confidence grew along with her excitement. “I was thinking… maybe I could do some art for your model. My take on Rodin for the plaza…”

“Not The Thinker.”

“Oh, please. Give me some credit. No, I was thinking—”

“The Danaïd.”

“Right! How’d you know?”

“I just know. Besides, it goes with the building.”

“Exactly! It echoes the lines and adds a human element. That’s what Siobhan says, by the way.”

“Oh? And what else does Siobhan say?”

She completely missed the wry tone. “That I should do something like Degas too.”

“His sculpture, I’m guessing. Which one?”

“One of the dancers. Duh. Here, hold this.” She handed me her duffel bag without waiting for an answer. Then she danced ahead of us. She did a series of side leaps followed by a jump with a scissor-kick.

“Ten years of ballet,” Wren said dryly.

“Till I was fourteen,” Christy agreed with a grin.

I leaned forward and looked at Wren.

She was doing her best to nurture her sour mood, but it was a losing fight, especially in the face of Christy’s exuberance.

“I told you,” Wren said, “she’s been like this all day. Dancing everywhere, bouncing around. Swear to God, she’s more annoying than the Care Bears.”

Trip utterly failed to hide a smile.

Wren slugged him in the shoulder. She simply glared at me.

I grinned.

“I mean it.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Christy said. “She’s all talk.” She danced out of Wren’s reach. “Ha ha!”

“You know I’ll catch you.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yes I will.”

“Only in your dreams.”

Wren lunged.

Christy shrieked and dodged.

Wren ran after her, but Christy was too light, too quick.

“God,” Trip said as they ran out of earshot, “she needs to let off some steam.”

Christy darted around a parked car.

Wren followed, but Christy circled and kept the car between them. All of

a sudden she shot away toward the library.

Trip and I watched them with a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

“Been a bit tense?” I said at last.

“What do you think? She’s so stubborn.”

“Hey, you asked for it.”

“Yeah,” he mused, “I did. But I didn’t think it’d be nonstop.”

“She’s intense.”

“Tell me about it. She wants things to happen right now. And she wants to control everything.” He chuckled darkly. “For example, she can’t understand why you won’t let her fix you up.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “Um… you know she’s been—?”

“Matchmaking again? Yeah.” I shrugged. “That’s okay. Christy’s cute and all, but she isn’t my type.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

It was my turn to look at him.

“You should hear some of the things Wren’s told me. Pretty hot stuff.