Nicole had said something and was clearly waiting for an answer. “I’m sorry, I missed that.”
“We’re nearly done, aren’t we?”
“I expect someone to come along and shoo us away any moment. Do you want that water now?”
Nicole smiled. “You are persistently thoughtful.”
Was that another compliment? Had she accidentally bought Nicole ibuprofen with happy pill on the side? “I’m not sure how to take the modifier.”
“You don’t forget details. You remind me of my mother.”
Lily managed a pleased smile. Part of her was pleased—Indira Hathaway was a strong, intelligent woman and she didn’t mind the comparison on that level. But being compared to a mother that Nicole seemed to see as overbearing? She covered her confusion with a forced smile and, “Still not sure how to take that.”
Nicole tipped her head slightly as if consulting an inner Google search for the proper emotional response. “My mother is very careful of details.”
She scrabbled her handbag out from under the table and headed for the food vendors. “Back with water shortly,” she said over her shoulder.
She heard Nicole say something in answer, but it didn’t register. Her emotions were all over the place. Don’t cry, she told herself. You silly girl, you have nothing to cry about.
* * *
Nicole called after Lily, “Why don’t I just come with you?” but Lily sped away. Perhaps she knew where the shortest line might be. She seemed to always know things like that.
A reader rushed up and said in French-accented English, “I was so afraid I’d missed you.”
The voice was reminiscent of her roll across the grass in France, but the slight, mid-thirties man bore no resemblance to the sleek and playful Estelle. “You’re just in time.”
He stage-whispered across the table, “I love the fact that your research covered same-sex couples. You have so many homophobes in America I’m surprised they let you print it.”
“In America nobody needs permission from anyone to print a book. Just the means and will to do it. How would you like me to sign the book?”
“To my boyfriend Fritz. We’ve been together eight years now.”
“Congratulations.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lily approaching with two water bottles, but someone had intercepted her. “Best of luck to you both.”
She handed the book to the reader and glanced over at Lily. A middling-height man who nevertheless towered over Lily looked upset. She could hear snatches of the conversation, but it appeared to be in German. Lily had confessed her German was not much better than middle school vocabulary, but the lack of understanding didn’t account for how pale she’d become. The quantity of tears shed earlier meant a loss of potassium and it occurred to her that Lily needed food. Instead, she’d driven hours in great stress and then made gracious conversation in several languages with strangers. Then concerned herself with Nicole’s comfort above her own.
Nicole gathered up her satchel, growing increasingly concerned that the man was well past standards of privacy distance, even for Europeans, who required less space than Americans. He was almost touching her with his chest.
It sounded as if Lily were saying, “Nine nine dew erst” but the man began waving his arms.
Lily said one last thing and the man yelled something back and stormed off just as Nicole reached them.
“What on earth was that about? Are you all right?” Nicole took the water bottles from Lily’s shaking hands.
“A fan of the Linden-Smiths,” Lily said. Her lips were pale.
Nicole uncapped one of the bottles. “Drink. Let’s get out of here.”
She drank her own water while she and Lily slowly made their way toward the distant main exit. Though Lily pointed out a booth here and there, it was clear to Nicole that she was not really seeing much of anything. Well, that ass had been physically intimidating and that was enough to shake anyone for a while.
“And here we have biographies, more biographies, memoirs,” Nicole said, filling in the silence. They were finally nearing the main doors.
Lily stumbled to a stop in front of a massive publishing house booth draped in red, white and blue. Stacks of new books were arranged in clever displays, featuring faces Nicole dimly recognized from television. The news anchor who had come out recently she recognized easily, but Kate’s influence was the only reason she knew one of those faces was a Kardashian.
Lily put the booth to her back and walked rapidly toward the exit. “Thank goodness she was here earlier in the week. I can’t even look at that woman’s face. I don’t want to share the same air as her.”
Surprised, Nicole took one last look at a stack of books and realized that Merrill Boone was featured on the covers. “I see,” she said, but then realized that Lily was already at the doors.
They had cleared the building before Lily slowed her pace. “That woman is merciless. She lied about so many things.”
Nicole hesitated, not wanting to trigger another emotional breakdown from Lily. She’d been thoughtless earlier, delivering her evaluation of Lily’s parents as if Lily had the distance and perspective to hear the words. Just because in a professional setting Lily was poised and mature beyond her years didn’t mean her private life was as neatly ordered and under control, especially after the traumatic events that had led to her parents’ suicides. “Her arguments are logically flawed, and if she restated them in acceptable logical expressions their fallacy would be obvious. She chooses not to do that, so she fails to illuminate the truth.”
Lily’s lips were in a tight, firm line. “All of which is a high-brow way of saying she tells lies.”
Confused by the twisting pain she felt in her chest to be at odds with Lily over something they essentially agreed on, Nicole said, “Yes, you’re right.”
“She gets rich telling lies. I know I’d do a lot of things for a living, but I would never want to be the assistant who rushes in to tell the boss that a child has been murdered because it’ll make the boss happy. It’s…indecent.”
They had finally cleared the crowds around the building and Nicole was glad to see some color back in Lily’s cheeks. Her head was down though, as she plowed along the sidewalk.
Nicole was immediately startled by a loud creaking sound overhead. Looking up she realized there was a massive moving sculpture of an iron figure lowering a hammer. “Curious public art.”
Lily glanced up, not seeming surprised at all. “We walked under it last week. Do you like it?”
“Public art is well-documented to increase emotional valuation of a city’s residents and visitors.”
Lily sighed. “That’s not an answer.”
Nicole replayed her words in her head. “I believe I addressed—”
“That public art has a social purpose and whether you like that sculpture are not in any way the same thing.” Lily’s lips were in a thin, tight line. “Unless you’re saying that you can only like something if it has been proven to be of value.”
Nicole was reminded of arguing with Kate, who dragged emotional tangents into any discussion. She didn’t want to get…off-track, not with Lily. “I like looking at it,” she said. “I also like knowing that it has a purpose. It adds to my enjoyment. And profiting in the misery of others is indecent.”
“Oh.” Lily took a deep breath and her expression softened. “I wasn’t sure you heard me.”
“I did. I am—I don’t wish to upset you again.”
“I understand that. I really didn’t mean to go off like I did.” Lily’s mouth was no longer tight and thin. “I could really use some dinner. And chocolate. Not necessarily in that order.”
“Chocolate has been proven—”
Lily pressed her forefinger against Nicole’s lips. “I know all about the dopamine and the heart healthy antioxidants and the blahppity-blah-blah. All that really matters right now is that chocolate is a gift from kind gods to save lives. Okay?”
Nicole nodded.
Lily removed her forefinger. Nicole resisted the urge to lick her lips.
“The car is this way.”
Nicole fell into step and said nothing. It seemed by far the wisest thing to do. When Lily wasn’t looking she quickly licked her lips and was disappointed she couldn’t taste Lily’s skin.
Perhaps, she mused, she needed chocolate as well. Not to save lives, but to keep her from making a fool of herself.
Chapter Eleven
“Say that again.” Nicole looked up from her breakfast, an especial de la casa of eggs with a smoky green tomatillo sauce and fingers of toast smeared with a savory, soft white cheese.
Lily grinned at her over her mug of thick Spanish coffee. “I said that the bookseller for one p.m. has canceled because of the rain last night. They have a leak and repairmen everywhere. That means we don’t have to be anywhere, do anything, entertain anyone until tonight at seven p.m. when the mayor’s wife’s dinner-slash-book club convenes.”
“I can’t even take it in.” Nicole finally took a bite of her toast.
“I know what you mean.” Lily couldn’t have been more relieved. She didn’t know if the persistent raw tickle in the back of her throat was a cold or lack of consistent sleep, and Nicole was obviously weary.
All in all, Lily would have liked to have had words with the person who had planned their itinerary. There was no leisure time built in, as if Nicole could be “on” seven days a week, several times a day. Madrid was already just a memory and it was such a beautiful city. If there had been time she’d have found the charming winery that she’d visited with her cousins several years ago. A relaxing meal in the countryside would have been wonderful. Instead, they’d rushed from the airport to a college campus in Madrid, then to another college in Toledo by late afternoon, then driven on to Granada last night to be rested for the bookshop event, now canceled.
“I know Granada a little bit.” Lily swallowed another heavenly mouthful of the bracing, aromatic coffee. “My cousins and I drove all over Spain during a college break, and we stayed in this area for several days. What would you say to an hour’s drive to a day spa on the ocean? We’d be pampered, you could work or read, a luncheon of tapas and wine…We’d be back here in plenty of time for the event tonight.”
“Would we be wrapped in plastic and have cucumber slices on our eyes? That sort of thing?” Nicole looked highly skeptical.
“Only if that’s your deal. A hot stone treatment and massage, followed by a couple of hours poolside being plied with sangría, jamón serrano and queso manchego would be my preference. I’ve been there before and it’s set in a naturally beautiful location overlooking a long beach and the Mediterranean. It’s too far to see Gibraltar but …” She took a deep breath. “It’ll be the closest thing we’ll find to Lake Winnipesauke for restorative powers.”
Nicole appeared to be considering it as she ate her eggs. They looked tasty, but at the moment, Lily was far too emotionally involved with her coffee to want anything else. Even the Spanish café in Greenwich Village couldn’t match what was an “average” blend in Spain. The little carafe of slightly sweetened and thickened milk was the crowning pleasure of her liquid breakfast.
Not making much of an effort to hide her true feelings, she added, “Or we could stay here. I know a wonderful eatery. But…I did call Un—Damon Linden, and I did perhaps suggest that this itinerary is insanely demanding, which it is, and he did agree that a day’s respite at Insignis’s expense was more than reasonable.”
Nicole actually smiled. “I think I would have liked to have heard that negotiation.”
“It wasn’t so much a negotiation as I said what I wanted to do and he said yes. It’s all in the tone of voice.”
Nicole’s eyebrow was up, but she was definitely smiling when she said, “You hide your alpha female tendencies well.”
“I had an international relations prof who said that women in diplomacy had to be mutable.” She fluttered her eyelashes.
Nicole laughed outright, surprising Lily further. Maybe the warm climate was melting her moods. Or perhaps she was simply more comfortable around Lily, which was reassuring. If Nicole suspected the range of Libido’s musings she’d not be so relaxed.
“Don’t bat those things at me.” Nicole waved a hand. “They’re too dangerous a weapon to play with.”
“So…The day spa is a yes? I talked to the concierge and we can hire a driver for the day.”
“Yes, if only for that alone. I don’t know how you drive such long stretches. Last night seemed endless.”
“It’s harder after dark. During the day the changing scenery is nice. I really wish we could have taken a train from Toledo to here. I loved the train in England.”
Nicole finished her eggs and sipped from her tea. “What does one wear to a day spa?”
“Something comfortable. They’ll provide everything, from a swimsuit to slippers, to a wrap for massage, whatever we need. Pampering with a capital P.” She finished her coffee and looked regretfully at the bottom of the mug. Maybe she could get another to go before they left for the spa.
“Very well.” Nicole rose. “Shall we meet in the lobby in thirty minutes?”
“Perfect.”
She watched Nicole leave the café and turn in the direction of the hotel elevators. Libido said something inane about being happy to see Nicole walk away, and supplied high-speed, high-resolution mental trailers for The Naughty Schoolgirl Teaches the Professor Something New.
Lily looked into the bottom of her mug again. Since when was an old wooden desk sexy? She was not a sex-starved nymphette.
Libido provided an image of the alley in London. Lily shivered.
Circumspect pronounced that since it was an obvious bad influence there would be no more coffee for anyone.
* * *
A scant thirty minutes later, dressed in simple cotton shorts and a little white blouse, Lily arrived in the lobby to find Nicole already waiting. Nicole was equally casual in a pair of workout shorts and a T-shirt with the University of Central New Hampshire’s logo on the pocket.
Nicole handed her a tall travel cup with a sipping lid. “You looked so sorry when you ran out of coffee that I got you more. I hope I put in enough of the sweet milk. Leche y sucre is the milk you like, right?”
Lily hoped that her surprise didn’t show. Once again she was flummoxed to realize that Nicole, for all her aloof airs, was taking note of the details around her. “Yes, thank you. How thoughtful.”
“Our car is ready,” Nicole said. “The concierge introduced me to the driver. I’m sorry, I think his name is Eduardo or Lysander or Hercules or all three…” She waved her hands helplessly.
The first sweet, seductive sip was heavenly. Libido compared it to sunshine on bare breasts. Circumspect warned no good would come of the indulgence. “Right now he could be Sweeney Todd and I wouldn’t care.” Nicole’s eyebrow went up and Lily laughed. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that your face could get stuck like that?”
Nicole turned to the doorway where the driver was lingering and smiling. Over her shoulder she asked, “Are you going to be cheeky all day?”
“Maybe. What are you going to do about it?”
Nicole turned away to accept the driver’s help into the car, but not before her gaze locked with Lily’s long enough to stop Lily in her tracks.
From any other woman she would have taken that smoldering glance as a promise, but there was no way that Dr. Professor Nicole Hathaway, Ph.D., was giving her a bedroom look.
That’s it, she thought. Circumspect was right. No more Spanish coffee.
She sipped again. No more coffee after this one.
* * *
It was getting to be a bad habit, Nicole thought, watching Lily while she slept. This time it was in the back of a compact but very comfortable touring car as they returned from the warm coast to their hotel in Granada. The problem with being in a car was that to look at Lily required that Nicole turn her head in an obv
ious way. If Lily opened her eyes, she’d catch Nicole in the act.
But she couldn’t look away. Lily still had a slightly red nose from time in the sun, and whatever treatment she’d done in the relajación gruta had brought out her sinuous grace. Her cheeks were dusted with faint freckles and her lashes seemed longer than ever. She looked closer to sixteen than twenty-six and far from the cheeky, sassy woman of this morning, who’d seemed drunk on Spanish coffee.
“What are you going to do about it?” Lily had dared.
The entire drive to the spa she’d wanted to show Lily exactly what she’d do if challenged so flirtatiously—kiss her until the laughter was gone, until the poise was gone, until soft sounds of don’t stop were the only ones Lily could make.
Fortunately, they’d parted ways after entrusting their bodies and auras to aesthetists. Nicole opted for a salt massage simply because she was curious what that meant and knowing her mother would find it interesting as an anecdote. Ninety minutes of a warm room and a woman’s strong hands rubbing oil and coarse salt into her shoulders, back, stomach, legs, even her fingers and toes, had been truly relaxing. After that, she’d been happy to lounge next to the pool in the one-piece swimsuit and light robe the spa had provided. She’d brought a book she was reviewing for the Journal of Applied Neurobiology and read until Lily had emerged from the actualization sphere—or whatever the Spanish name had meant—to join her poolside in the dappled sunlight.
Though she’d kept the book open on her lap and turned the pages, she’d done no reading after that. Lily had quickly discarded her robe, and the skimpy bikini she’d chosen covered everything, just barely.
Nicole was grateful for the sunglasses that hid the fact that she was helplessly staring.
Declaring herself a new woman, Lily had vigorously swum laps in the long pool, emerging from the water against a backdrop of the blue-green Mediterranean stretching to the horizon. She could have been a nymph or a dryad or a fairy sprite, a demi-goddess who turned the air around her into delirious desire. Nicole now understood those silly quest stories where heroes did stupid and reckless feats, all for a kiss from a divinely beautiful woman.
Love by the Numbers Page 16
