Why Not Tonight

by Susan Mallery

  She’d barely settled on the sofa when she heard a knock at her door. Her heart fluttered and ridiculous hope flared. She had it bad, she thought grimly as she walked to the door.

  Ronan stood on the landing. She couldn’t read his expression and had no idea what he was thinking.

  “You’re right,” he told her. “I do like it. All of it. You, my brothers, working again. That scares the hell out of me because it could all be gone in a second.”

  “Only if you walk away from us,” she told him. “Otherwise we’re just here.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I know.”

  She motioned for him to come inside. He walked into the living room. When she’d closed and locked the door, he reached for her, pulling her close. Then his mouth was on hers and his hands were everywhere and absolutely nothing else mattered but the man and how he made her feel.

  * * *

  MONDAY MORNING RONAN was back in the gallery studio. He hadn’t been sure of his reception but both his brothers greeted him as if the previous week of angst hadn’t happened. His work went well and his demons receded. It turned out Natalie had been right—he was a stupid butthead.

  Around eleven, his cell phone rang.

  “Where are you?” he asked by way of greeting. “I thought you were working in the office today.”

  “I was.” Natalie sounded like her normal happy self. “I had to run some errands. Then Ted called from the recycling center and told me they had something for me.” She laughed. “It’s amazing and you have to come right now. I mean, right now. This second. Bring your truck. You’re going to be so excited.”

  “Uh-huh. What is it?”

  “I’m not going to tell you. It’s a surprise.”

  Which could mean anything from a bag of recycled cans to he had no idea what. “Give me five minutes and I’ll head out.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  He hung up. “I have to go to the recycling center.”

  Nick chuckled. “Did she say what it was?”

  “No.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  “Whatever it is, I’m bringing it back here. I’m not going through this alone.”

  Nick was still laughing when Ronan left.

  He drove to the recycling center and parked. Natalie danced out of the main building and raced over to him.

  “It’s so great. We’re so lucky Ted called. What a nice guy.”

  “Uh-huh. What is it?”

  She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. At first all he saw was the normal clutter of refurbished leftovers for sale, but then he noticed a battered item on the floor.

  He stared at the old, beat-up bowl with a flat disc in it, all supported on a slightly tilted table. What on earth?

  “Isn’t it great?” Natalie asked, beaming at him. “I’m so excited. The second Ted saw it, he thought of me.”

  “Of course he did. What is it?”

  She looked shocked. “It’s a pottery wheel.”

  He looked closer and recognized the components. The table could be adjusted up and down, and he saw a foot pedal, no doubt to control the speed.

  “I’ve never thrown pottery,” he said cautiously, knowing it wasn’t going to matter. Natalie had made up her mind.

  “I haven’t, either, but come on. It’s only twenty-five dollars and it’s in great shape. Ted said the motor still works. What’s not to like?”

  He knew he shouldn’t bother, but he couldn’t help asking, “Why do you want this?”

  She stared at him in disbelief. “For the school. Your art classes. The kids will love it and it’s small enough we can take it to them!”

  “Sure, but that brings me back to my earlier point that neither of us knows what we’re doing.”

  Her expression turned pitying. “Ronan, we’re artists. We’ll learn how to work with the wheel. We have time. I’m not saying we’ll be great, but we can study the basics and then teach the kids. We can fire their work and bring it when we come back.”

  He knew better than to fight her. “Okay, then.” He pulled out his wallet and dropped two twenties into the cash tin on the counter. “Let’s get it back to the studio.”

  They wrestled the table and wheel into the back of his truck. When they got back to the studio, both Mathias and Nick came out to see what they’d bought.

  “Is it alive?” Mathias asked hopefully. “Is it a baby gazelle?”

  “I knew you were missing Sophie,” Ronan muttered, remembering how his brother had looked after their mother’s dog the previous year. “Get a puppy.”

  “I want to but not until Carol has the baby. That way they can grow up together.”

  Nick shook his head. “Sure. A newborn and potty training. That’s smart.” He peered over the side of the truck. “Cool. A pottery wheel. That’s a great idea. You can take it to the school and teach kids how to use it.”

  Natalie’s expression turned knowing. “See?”

  Ronan held in a sigh. “I’ve heard that one already.”

  “What he really means,” Natalie said as the guys easily lifted the wheel down, then carried it into the studio, “is that we don’t know how to work with a wheel.”

  “That’s why they have YouTube videos,” Mathias said as he walked to his computer. “We already have clay. This is going to be fun.”

  In less time than he would have thought, they were all covered in clay and laughing over their disasters. As with many techniques, it was harder than it looked. Natalie had produced a passably acceptable bowl. Nick turned everything he touched into an oversize penis and Mathias kept pressing too hard to the left, creating lopsided, undefinable blobs.

  “I would have thought you’d be the best of all of us,” Ronan admitted. “You make dishes and vases all the time. Shouldn’t you be able to translate into clay the easiest?”

  “I’m ignoring you,” Mathias said cheerfully, taking his turn at the wheel. “At least I’m not advertising my inability to satisfy my wife.” He nodded at Nick’s long and bulbous creation.

  “Hey, Pallas is perfectly satisfied. I was trying to make a tall vase.”

  “Sure you were.”

  Ronan caught Natalie’s gaze and winked at her. She laughed. He felt the weight he’d been carrying lighten a little. She was good for him, he admitted, knowing it was equally important that he be good for her, as well.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  NATALIE STUDIED THE CANVAS. It was the second time she’d finished the piece—the first had ended with it going up in flames. She still had to struggle not to wince when she thought about how horrible that had been. Although now, stepping back and looking at what she’d completed, she had to concede this one was even better.

  She liked the different textures from all the items she’d used. Found bits and buttons and ribbon and fabric all blended perfectly with the paper flowers and butterflies that made up the foundation. There was something alive, a sense of hope. Or maybe that was just her. Regardless, it was finished and now she had to suck it up and show Atsuko.

  She should have done it yesterday, she thought. Or the day before. But fear was a bitch and she’d had to work up the courage. Not that her boss would ever be anything less than supportive. She had a feeling Atsuko would take the piece and put it in the gallery. It was the price that was the reckoning.

  She grabbed the canvas in both hands and started for the door. Nick beat her to it and held it open, then murmured, “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  She glanced back at Ronan, on the far side of the room. He was working with his team today, already dripping sweat from too much time spent near the fiery ovens. He spotted her and gave her a quick thumbs-up.

  She went into the gallery and set the canvas on an easel in the back room, then knocked on Atsuko’s open office door.

>   “Natalie. I thought today was an art day for you.”

  “It is. I finished something.”

  Her boss immediately rose. “I’m excited to see whatever it is.”

  “It’s not the flowers. I’m still working on those.”

  “That’s fine. I know better than to push one of my artists.”

  Natalie nearly stumbled. Was that how Atsuko thought of her? As one of her artists? Nick and Mathias and Ronan were her artists. Natalie had always thought of herself as, well, not like them.

  She mentally paused to remind herself that getting a lot of money for something didn’t mean someone was better or worse than anyone else. Art was about creation and drive and vision, not a check from a gallery. And while she mostly believed that, she had to admit there was an element of legitimacy that she craved. Not to mention a few dollars in her hiatus fund.

  They walked into the small back room where they stored tables and chairs and linens for their special events. Atsuko paused when she saw the canvas.

  “I saw this before, when you first started it. You made a lot of changes.”

  Natalie shook her head. “They weren’t voluntary. At least not at first.” She explained about the fire.

  “Once I recovered from the shock, I kept going back to it. One day I knew what to do.” She touched a ribbon petal. “I’m thinking I might try burning a piece again. In a very controlled way, of course. There’s something very freeing about the whole rising-from-the-ashes concept. I can’t really explain it.”

  Atsuko walked back and forth, examined the canvas, moved close, then moved back. “I would suggest you start working on being able to explain it. We have a gallery event in a couple of weeks and you might be asked a few questions.”

  “Wh-what?”

  Asked questions? Why would that happen? While she’d had her pieces in the gallery during events before, she’d never been one of the featured artists. She’d attended the fancy evenings, but only as staff. The important artists, the ones displayed on the gallery walls, were the featured talents. They were expected to mingle with potential buyers, make small talk and explain their art.

  Before she could think about breathing or ask any questions, Atsuko picked up the canvas and carried it into the gallery. She leaned it up against the far left wall, considered it, then shook her head.

  “No, not on the end. I think I want it more toward the center. I’m going to need to do some rearranging.” She glanced at Natalie. “Assuming this is mine to sell.”

  “Of course.”

  “Good. Draw up the standard contract.” Atsuko smiled. “I’m going to price this at twenty-four thousand dollars.”

  Natalie did her best not to gasp or faint or scream. Rather than risking speech, she simply nodded. “I’ll get to it right away.”

  “Good. I’m going to need a little time to figure out how I want to rearrange the gallery, but I should have your piece up by tomorrow.”

  “Thank you.”

  Natalie left her talking to herself about space and display, and slowly made her way back to the studio. Her heart was pounding and she was having trouble doing the very simple math. The gallery took half the sale’s price, which meant Natalie got the other half. She was almost sure that meant she would get twelve thousand dollars.

  If it sold, she reminded herself. That had to happen first. Except all her pieces had sold so far and Atsuko had an excellent eye and if she were even slightly featured in the next gallery event, then... Then...

  She came to a stop and closed her eyes. Twelve thousand dollars. That was huge! That was five figures. That changed everything.

  Okay, not everything, but close. Between what she’d earned helping Pallas and making the centerpieces for the wedding, she had three months’ rent. Even after taxes, the commission would maybe cover another three plus her living expenses for nearly half a year. She could afford to take a couple of weeks off a month to really focus on her art. She was nowhere near ready to stop working completely, but she was on her way.

  She drew in a breath and thought longingly of her mother, who would be so proud of her. She thought of all the work, all the small projects that had sold for fifty or a hundred dollars. She thought of how life was quirky and unexpected and surprising all at the same time. Then she thought of Ronan.

  He would be so happy for her. So excited. He would want to celebrate and tell everyone. On the night of the event, she had a feeling the usually famously reclusive Ronan Mitchell would make an appearance. All for her.

  He was good to her. So supportive and affectionate. She enjoyed his company, his laughter, his brilliance. Even his struggle made her care about him more.

  She reached for the studio door only to stop. The truth she’d been avoiding, the truth Silver had so bluntly shared, couldn’t be ignored anymore.

  She was in love with him. She was in love with Ronan. She’d assumed she would be sensible and not fall for him but she’d been wrong. She loved him and she honestly had no idea what that meant or how to deal with the fact that there was a very good chance he would leave her. But for the next however long the guys wanted to talk about her meeting with Atsuko, she was going to have to fake it.

  She pushed away thoughts of love and what it all meant, remembered how it felt when Atsuko had said she would be on one of the center walls and walked into the studio.

  All three of them were waiting there, looking expectant.

  “Well?” Ronan asked. “Tell us.”

  “She took it! It’s going up in the next couple of days.” She paused for effect. “On one of the center walls.”

  Mathias and Nick cheered. Ronan wrapped his arms around her waist and spun her around.

  “I knew it,” he told her as he held her close. “Good for you, Natalie. Congratulations.”

  Her heart swelled a little and her eyes filled with tears. Happy tears, she thought as he kissed her.

  This was what she wanted. As for the loving part, she would deal with that later. Or maybe not at all.

  * * *

  “I’M IN LOVE with Ronan,” Natalie said plaintively.

  “Well, duh.” Silver was sprawled in the club chair in her living room while Natalie sat on the sofa. “You’re just now getting that?”

  “You were right. I was wrong. Better?”

  Silver grinned. “As nice as that is to hear, this isn’t about me.” Her smile softened. “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. I hope so. I’m trying. It’s just I never expected this to happen.”

  “Why not? He’s a good-looking guy. Successful, talented, and he treats you like gold. How could you not fall in love?”

  “I thought I was immune.”

  “No such luck.”

  Apparently not, Natalie thought. “Do you think anyone knows?”

  “Your friends might be suspicious but no one will say anything. If you’re asking if Ronan knows, I wouldn’t worry about it. Men don’t see that kind of stuff. I’m not sure if that’s a blessing or a curse.”

  Natalie wondered if they’d stopped talking about her and Ronan and had shifted to Silver and Drew. Not that there was anything to talk about.

  Natalie didn’t know all the details but she’d heard that the couple had been hot and heavy back in high school. Things had gone awry, and while they’d never gotten back together again, there were rumors that Drew was more than a little interested in winning back the platinum blonde he’d once sworn to love forever.

  Silver shook her head. “Let me be clear. I was not talking about myself.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I am. Now what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. I’m scared on so many levels.”

  She’d never thought she would fall in love. She’d even been considering having a baby on her own. Okay, not considering, but toying wi
th the idea. Now she knew that wasn’t possible—at least not for a long time. She loved Ronan—she wanted to be with him. She wanted him to be “the one” and have them get married and start a family together. She wanted the fantasy. But she needed him to want it, too, and right now he wouldn’t even admit Elaine was his mother.

  “He won’t love me back. He doesn’t trust emotionally because he’s too closed off.”

  “He’s changing.”

  “Not enough.” Of that she was sure.

  “How do you know?” Silver asked. “Maybe your love is what he needs to push him over the edge.” She smiled. “In a good way.”

  Natalie was having a little trouble in the faith department. “You’re saying I should just walk up to Ronan and tell him I love him and everything will be fine?”

  Silver shrugged. “Yeah, I’m not sure Ronan is that guy, but that’s about him, not you. But maybe you should try.”

  Maybe, she thought, trying to imagine the moment. What would he do? Accept her love? Walk away? Maybe it was better not to know.

  Like with the pregnancy?

  The voice was so soft she barely heard it, but the words resonated all the same. Natalie had promised herself to do better next time. Was she going to keep her word or not?

  “I’ll tell him,” she said aloud, so the words had more power. “I’m going to trust him to be okay. I should tell him how I feel and that I believe in him. Then he can make his own decision.”

  “That’s very mature of you.”

  Natalie drew in a breath. “I hope so. Regardless, it’s right. I’m hoping that my believing in him is going to help him believe in himself.”

  “You really are an optimist.”

  “I’m in love. What else would I be?”

  * * *

  IT TOOK NATALIE three days to internalize the whole concept of being in love with Ronan. She had to think about her past and what she’d done both right and wrong before she could accept that when she hadn’t been looking or paying attention, she’d made the most significant decision of her life.