Why Not Tonight

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Why Not Tonight Page 8

by Susan Mallery


  She ate her dinner, then carried her tea to her studio. She’d brought the dragon picture with her, but none of Ronan’s supplies, which meant she would be changing direction partway through.

  She touched the iridescent discs and the brass paper clips that covered part of one wing and a little of the body. Should she just surrender to failure and start something else? If she changed direction now she would have to...

  She put the framed canvas on the long craft table, then went into the master closet. It was good-sized and she’d crammed it with bookshelves, plastic trays and drawers, all filled with odds and ends she’d found, bought or been given. There were those buttons her friend Violet had let her have for practically nothing. Weren’t they iridescent? The shape and thickness were different, but that didn’t matter.

  She found the buttons along with some dark green feathers, brass-colored wire and half a yard of midnight blue velvet. She grabbed a bag of black volcanic glass and her trusty glue gun, then went back into her studio.

  There were so many possibilities, she thought happily as she spread out all her supplies, then began to play with combinations. It was only midnight. If she concentrated, she might have the piece done by morning and then she would show it to...

  She pressed her lips together. It had been three nights. Just over seventy-two hours. She would finish the piece for herself and decide if she wanted to take it to the gallery to see if Atsuko was interested in showing it. No one else’s opinion mattered. She liked her life exactly as it was and now she had it back. She was happy about that. Really.

  * * *

  RONAN DROVE DOWN the mountain much earlier than he’d first planned. The long night had convinced him there was no way he could work in his private studio, so he’d emailed his interns and told them to meet him in town, where they would all get to work on his commission. He was ready, he was eager and most of all he was missing Natalie, but damn it all to hell, he couldn’t admit that to anyone—not even himself.

  He arrived at the studio behind Willow Gallery. The rear parking lot was empty. Ronan went inside and flipped on lights, then started the process of bringing the huge oven up to temperature. He studied the to-scale drawing on the wall—it was exactly the same as the one he had at home and detailed every part of the intricate design. The hundreds of individual pieces would be connected on-site.

  By eight, both Nick and Mathias had arrived. His brothers looked alike with dark hair and eyes, both around six feet tall. Del and Aidan shared their physical description. Only Ronan was different, with lighter hair and green eyes. He’d always been teased about being different, his brothers joking that he wasn’t really one of them. None of them had known they were telling the truth.

  Mathias grinned when he saw Ronan. “You finally made it in. Pretty slick having your road wash out. I knew there was a reason you wanted to live up in the mountains.”

  “He was trying to get away from you,” Nick joked. “I take it you survived the storm.”

  Ronan nodded.

  Mathias glanced around, as if making sure they were alone, then asked, “With Natalie? How was that?”

  “Fine. She stayed in the guest room up in the turret and used the studio there.”

  He was braced for more questions. Would they guess what had almost happened, what he’d wanted to happen?

  “You made her cook for you, didn’t you?” Nick asked, then chuckled. “So about her car. It’s gone?”

  Ronan grimaced at the memory. “Clean off the side of the mountain. Several trees came down. The last one fell on it and carried it down the ravine. I don’t know if it can be recovered. Even if it is, it has to be totaled.”

  “That will make her happy,” Nick said. “She’s wanted a new car for a while. I told her it was silly to keep replacement value on that old piece of trash, but I was wrong.”

  Ronan didn’t like that his brother knew that about Natalie. “She told you?”

  “Five dozen times,” Mathias said. “Bro, you need to learn to listen when people talk. She wasn’t hurt, was she?”

  Ronan stiffened, only to realize his brother was talking about the car destruction, not anything else.

  “She was in the house when it happened.”

  “Good thing. She wouldn’t have survived that.” Mathias slapped him on the shoulder. “Good to have you back.”

  “Thanks.”

  Mathias and Nick retreated to their areas of the studio. Nick reviewed his email before heading out back, where he was working on a huge wood piece. Once he’d done the rough cuts with a chain saw, the twelve-foot-high block would be moved into the studio for his detail work.

  Mathias spent his days creating glass dishes, light pendants and bowls in various patterns. Every now and then he created something that would be considered “art” but mostly he preferred what he called his utilitarian collection.

  For years Ronan worried that Mathias had given in to their father’s judgment and was selling himself short by making everyday objects. Over the past few months Ronan had come to see that Mathias enjoyed what he did. For him, the act of creating was its own reward and having his pieces be on someone’s table mattered to him.

  Nothing their father would approve of, but maybe that was part of the joy of it.

  Ronan’s two interns arrived. They went to the local community college and worked for him a few hours a week. The morning went by quickly as they created piece after piece, building the parts of his installation.

  A little before noon, the interns left and Ronan took a break. He drank some water, logged on to his email and checked on the new pieces, all in an effort to avoid what he really wanted to do. When he’d run out of distractions, he made his way across the parking lot to the gallery and in the back door, heading to Natalie’s office.

  She sat behind her desk, her slightly frowning gaze locked on her computer. Gone were the tight curls. Instead her straight hair had been pulled back into a braid. She wore a tailored jacket over a green blouse and she was wearing makeup.

  This was work Natalie—he liked this side of her but preferred laughing, playful, relaxed-at-his-house Natalie better.

  The need to go to her nearly overwhelmed him. He wanted to pull her to her feet, drop her glasses on the desk and kiss her senseless. Maybe unfasten her braid and a few other things. Need burned hot and bright, blinding him to the reality of where they were and the fact that they hadn’t spoken since—

  “Wocka!” Natalie jumped in her chair and pressed a hand to her chest. “You scared me. When did you get so stealthy?”

  “Sorry. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  Color stained her cheeks. “I’m fine. The road crew guys were supernice and delivered me right to my door. I had my purse, which meant I had my keys. All is well.” She gave him a cheerful smile. “It’s really good I don’t have a cat. He would have been starving. Although I guess I would have called a neighbor or one of my friends to feed him, so he would have been fine. But I didn’t.” She cleared her throat. “What with not having a cat and all.”

  She was nervous—not a usual state for her. Was she concerned about what had happened before? He was sure he’d made it clear that while he appreciated her incredibly tempting invitation, he hadn’t been able to act on it. Or was she having second thoughts and was concerned he was going to expect her to make good on her offer?

  He swore silently. There had been a time when the whole man-woman thing had been ridiculously easy. Sadly that time was not now.

  “I probably should have told you I was leaving,” she told him.

  “I know why you didn’t.”

  “Do you?” She bit her lower lip. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “Me? Why would I be upset? I thought you were upset.”

  “No. Well, maybe. A little.” She stared at her desk, then back at him. “I guess I’m not everyone’
s cup of tea.”

  “You are. I mean, I like tea. It was a timing thing. I meant that.”

  Dear God—what on earth were they talking about? He looked toward the open door, then back at Natalie. They were both at work and this was not the moment, but he wanted her to know that he hadn’t been rejecting her.

  She smiled at him. “I think I understand what you’re saying. Did you get your phone?”

  It took him a second to realize she meant his cell phone. “I have it with me and promise I will keep it close always. Did you call your insurance company?”

  She laughed. “Yes, and at first they didn’t believe me. But I got lucky. A tow truck driver found my car and is pretty sure he can drag it out of what I was afraid was its final resting place. Once he does, I can send pictures to my agent and get the paperwork started for them to total my car.” She did a little shimmy in her seat. “Then it’s new-car time for me! Well, new-to-me, but still!”

  “Uh-huh. Are you still determined to buy a red car?”

  “Duh. Yes. Red is my color.”

  “I’m going with you. You can’t buy a car based solely on color. It needs to be reliable and safe, without too many miles and no accidents.”

  She waved her hand. “I’m not worried. I’m going to find a beautiful red car that is perfect. You’ll see.”

  “Yes, I will because I will be right there. I want you to promise not to go car shopping without me.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of finding the right car.”

  “Not with color as your only criteria.”

  She mumbled something under her breath. He had a feeling it would sound very much like “Mr. Bossy Pants,” but he didn’t care. Natalie’s desire for a red car was the same as wearing a T-shirt with the slogan Hey, Rip Me Off! He wasn’t going to let that happen.

  “Fine,” she grumbled. “You can go with me. But I won’t like it.”

  “That’s my girl. Mature and open to the possibilities.”

  “I don’t care what you say. I want a red car. And nothing is going to stop me from getting one. Not even you.”

  “There’s an unexpected stubborn side to you, isn’t there?”

  “I am one with the feminine universe.”

  “And just a little bit crazy.”

  She flashed him a smile that nearly brought him to his knees.

  “You have no idea, Ronan.”

  Maybe not, but he would very much like to find out.

  * * *

  NATALIE CAREFULLY CARRIED the plastic-wrapped tray of cupcakes. She’d been sucked in by a Facebook ad promising an easy way to make little flowers out of icing. When the tip had arrived, she’d had to try it out and had discovered that it worked really well. Lucky for her, the biweekly girlfriend lunch was the next day, so she’d packed up the cupcakes to bring with her. The alternative of eating them all herself was not a happy one. Not with the way her hips and thighs loved to pack on the pounds.

  For the girlfriend lunches, hostess duties rotated. Whoever offered the location also provided the entrée. Everyone else brought another dish. Sometimes they ended up with three desserts and no salad, which was fine with Natalie—as long as the mix-up never went the other way, she was happy.

  With the monsoon over, the California desert heat had returned. It was barely noon and already in the upper nineties. By four, it would be at least a hundred and five.

  She crossed the street and made her way to her friend Silver’s new place. The storefront with a loft-style apartment above was owned by Violet Lund, now the duchess of Somerbrooke. Silver had been looking for a new place about the time Violet had been falling madly in love and considering moving to England. A long-term lease between the friends had solved two problems.

  Violet had used the street-level business space for her button shop. She’d also done alterations and some custom work on wedding gowns and bridesmaid dresses. Last fall she’d made an adorable dress for a sassy beagle name Sophie, who had been in Ronan’s brother Del’s wedding. Now Silver used the retail space for her own business.

  Natalie opened the glass door and walked into the bright space. Silver had done away with Violet’s displays of buttons and photographs of designer clothing featuring antique buttons. Her business—AlcoHaul—served local weddings. She owned a trailer that had been converted into a bar. As much of the town catered to theme weddings, Silver had decided to go all in. AlcoHaul could be transformed into a medieval tavern, a Wild West saloon or something from an alien landscape.

  Her showroom displayed large pictures of the different themes. There were small vignettes set up, illustrating the idea with many kinds of glasses, bottles of liquor and custom drink menus. For today’s lunch, Silver had pulled a couple of small tables together to form one longer one. The place settings were a mix of plastic plates, glasses and flatware from various weddings she’d worked on.

  “It’s me,” Natalie called as she set her cupcakes alongside a huge covered casserole dish. She couldn’t see what was under the foil, but even without visual clues, the smell was enough to make her mouth water.

  Cheese, bacon and maybe a hint of jalapeño, she thought as her stomach rumbled.

  “Hi.” Silver walked in from the back room and smiled. “Tell me you didn’t bring salad.”

  “I didn’t bring salad.”

  “Good. I’m in a sugar, carb, fat kind of mood.”

  The two women hugged. Natalie had the brief thought that anyone looking through the front window would think of them as the most mismatched friends ever. Silver was tall and slim with just enough muscle definition to let the world know that, yes, she did work out. Her platinum-blond hair hung to the middle of her back. She wore tight-fitting black jeans and an equally snug black tank top. An open-work dark blue sweater slipped off one shoulder.

  Silver was...exotic. Natalie shook her head. No, that wasn’t right. Silver was the sexy bad girl you knew was the most fun ever. The closest Natalie ever got to out of the ordinary was to be called “bohemian.” She was too short, too curvy and just too bubbly to ever be considered bad.

  “How are things?” Silver asked, pouring a very purple drink into two ice-filled tumblers.

  “Good. Busy. I’m working on a new art piece. I’m in a dragon mode right now and I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.”

  “Does it have to be assigned a value? It’s art—can’t it just be?”

  “Good point, Mom,” Natalie teased. She took a sip of the drink. There was a fruit base and club soda for sure, along with something else she couldn’t identify.

  “Is there liquor in this?”

  “Would I do that at lunch? We all have to work later. I do make a version that would knock you on your butt in three minutes, but this is not that.”

  They walked over to the table and took a seat. Natalie glanced around at the displays. “You’ve made a few changes. The big pictures on the wall are great.”

  “Wynn did those for me.”

  Wynn owned the local graphics and print company. She’d started taking photography classes so she could take pictures for her clients. She always joked she was nowhere near wedding-ready, so wouldn’t be putting any of their local photographers out of business, but sometimes a client needed corporate images or a head shot or, in Silver’s case, a wedding setup. That was where Wynn came in.

  Silver sipped her drink. “I need your advice. I’ve found a couple of trailers for sale.”

  Natalie leaned toward her. “Really? You’re going to expand? You said you were thinking about it. Wow—that’s exciting. Good for you.”

  “I haven’t done it yet. I don’t know. It’s a lot. Not just the money, although that’s a consideration. I have savings, but if I buy the trailers, I’ll need to refurbish them so they work as bars and then I’ll have to hire people to staff them.” She looked at Natalie. “I can’t buy them for cash a
nd remodel and pay staff.”

  “I’m sure you can get a small-business loan.”

  “Probably. Maybe. But I’ve never done anything like that. It’s scary to think about expanding. Right now it’s all on me. I have a crew I work with, but I make all the decisions. With another trailer, I’m sending it out into the world without me. I’m trusting someone else to handle an event.”

  “Do you want to expand? What if you kept things exactly as they are?”

  “I’ve thought about that, but it seems so cowardly.”

  Because Silver was always larger than life. “What about taking on a business partner?”

  “No and no. I don’t play well with others.”

  Silver’s sweater slipped off her left shoulder, exposing the top of a tattoo on her upper arm. Natalie knew there was other ink on her friend’s body, yet more proof she and her friend were wildly different.

  “Change is uncomfortable,” Natalie said. “Maybe if you look past that part to the end goal you want. You know, visualize your success.”

  “Because you don’t see me failing?”

  Natalie grinned. “Hardly. You’re smart and determined. You will get wherever you want to go—I know that for sure.”

  “If you’re not the nicest person I know, you’re very close to it, and I don’t mean that as a compliment.”

  Natalie was still laughing when their other friends arrived. Carol, Wynn and Pallas each carried a bowl or tray.

  Carol, a pretty redhead, was married to Ronan’s brother Mathias. She ran the local animal preserve next to the town dump. Carol was in charge of several gazelles, a few zebra, one water buffalo and a new giraffe herd. Wynn ran the graphics and printing company while Pallas owned Weddings Out of the Box. Bethany, the other member of their girlfriend crew, was visiting family in El Bahar.

  Bethany had moved to Happily Inc the previous December. Actually, she’d come for a short visit and had ended up falling in love with Cade Saunders, which was in and of itself fairly notable, but not the real thrill of the story. Cade had purchased a stallion from the king of El Bahar’s royal stable and Bethany had been the groom to accompany the horse while he got settled. Unbeknownst to anyone, Bethany was in fact the king’s stepdaughter and a real, live princess. There had been quite the conversation when the truth had come out.

 

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