by Phoebe Conn
Work on the mural ended each day at four o’clock to make certain there was time to clean brushes and put everything away for the next day. Several of the kids were regulars at Luke’s afternoon session, and Catherine didn’t wish to interfere with his schedule, either. She covered a wide yawn as she leaned her beach chair against the house, and she was moving too slowly to avoid Toby when he came her way.
“The mural looks great, although it’s easier to appreciate from across the street than my front yard. The kids are really getting into it. I hope you can find other projects for them when they’re finished here.”
“So do I, but I’ll bet they’ll miss working with you.”
“They’ll know where to find me,” Toby reminded her with a mischievous wink. “I’m sorry, but I keep thinking about you and some overgrown lump of muscle from the WWE, and it just doesn’t compute. Why don’t you tell me the truth? I can stand it.”
“I wish it were that simple,” Catherine replied. She removed her hat and used it as a fan. “It’s plain you’re not used to being turned down, but my affections lie elsewhere. Whether or not my honey is a hunk with the WWE or not, really doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me. Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.” Toby kept to a respectful distance as they crossed the street to the Lost Angel parking lot. Then he stepped close, and his tone became intimate.
“Now, as I see it, if you’re in love with the guy and he’s treating you well, then I’ll stay out of your way. But there’s something in your eyes that tells me things aren’t right. If I have to start taking karate lessons to defend myself, then I’ll do it, but please come to me if you have problems with your love life you can’t handle on your own.”
His sleeves were rolled up, and for a brief instant, Catherine was sorely tempted to reach out and trace the delicate scales of the dragon’s tail curling around his forearm. “That’s very nice of you, but really, whatever problems we might have can’t be solved with karate, although I do understand it’s very good exercise,” she added flippantly.
Toby raised his hands and backed away. “Fine, I get your message, but you remember what I said. If someday you need me, I’ll be there for you.”
Completely overwhelmed by that thought, Catherine managed only a faint smile. She’d wanted to talk with Luke, but he’d be busy for the next hour or two, and she was too tired to wait.
“I better go, Toby.”
He waved and strolled off toward his house with a swaggering gait that wasn’t all that different from Rafael’s.
Before leaving his office to conduct the afternoon session, Luke had glanced out the window to check if Catherine’s Volvo were still in the lot. When he saw her and Toby standing by her car with their heads together, he was so shocked he had to stay to watch. They appeared to be discussing something more serious than the mural, but he couldn’t even imagine what that might be.
Catherine was undeniable lovely, but that she attracted such devoted male attention without the slightest bit of effort on her part annoyed him no end. He wasn’t used to feeling jealous, and yet he couldn’t rationalize it away. Then he began to worry Catherine might look up and catch him watching her.
Here he’d thought Melissa was his problem for the day, but with Dave and Toby circling Catherine like sharks, it was clear his real problem lay far closer to home.
Catherine already had the Tuna Helper cooking when Luke rang the doorbell. She welcomed him with a kiss and then took his hand. “Come on in the kitchen and tell me what happened with Melissa.”
While Luke usually refused a drink, he poured himself a scotch before sitting down at the breakfast room table. “It went exactly as I predicted. Melissa even wore a misty blue suit to highlight her deeply depressed mood. She had the linen hanky with the lace border and sobbed into it the whole time.
“To hear her tell it, I tossed her out in the snow without so much as a threadbare blanket. I did my best not to let her pathetic charade make me angry, but—”
“You failed?” She continued to rip lettuce into bite-size hunks and tossed them into a salad bowl.
“Spectacularly,” he admitted sheepishly. “I even threw my chair across the room.”
She began to chop a bell pepper. “Wonderful. Is Melissa now calling you not only cheap but abusive?”
“You got it, but thank God we weren’t in court. Unfortunately my attorney was ready to deck me for it, so we’re lucky the meeting didn’t end in a brawl. In a couple of days, the attorneys will meet and see what they can work out by themselves, but with neither of us willing to give in, we’re sure to end up in court.”
“While it’s little comfort now, I’m sure it’ll all work itself out in time. You look tired. I was hoping you’d come by for dinner.”
“Thank you, but I should have called.”
“Yes, that’s always nice, but I still like finding you on the doorstep.”
“Yeah, but for how long?” He nearly snorted. He downed his scotch in a quick swallow and then set the glass on the table with exaggerated care. “I didn’t really come here to talk about Melissa.”
Catherine had just reached for the celery but paused to give him her full attention. “What have I done wrong now?” she asked hesitantly.
He left the table and came forward to give her a reassuring hug. “You see, you expect me to lurch around in attack mode, and that’s not good for either of us. Hell, I might as well be with the WWE.”
The image of him strutting around a wrestling ring screaming insults to another wrestler was so absurd she couldn’t help but laugh. “What would you do, call yourself Dr. Fist?”
He laughed, hugged her again and lifted her clear off her feet. “Say, I like that. Maybe I’ll wear black leather into court and tell them to call me Dr. Fist.”
He kissed her lightly, then still laughing, stepped back. “You distract me every damn time, lady, and you do it on purpose too.”
“Well, of course, I enjoy your laughter a great deal more than your shouting fits.”
He leaned back against the counter. “That’s reasonable. Now what I intended to say before you got me sidetracked, was that maybe I’ve been too tightly focused on my job as director of Lost Angel and lost sight of how my decisions affect you.”
She tried to smile, but her lips froze in a questioning pout. “Oh?” Was all she could manage, but none of his decisions compared with the one she’d already made for him. He was serious now, all trace of laughter erased from his expression, and it only served to frighten her.
“Yeah, and while I can still justify not telling anyone that you and I are a couple, you were right about my choice putting you in too awkward a place. I’m going to come clean with Dave and Toby and tell them you’re seeing me. No, that’s still too damn arrogant, isn’t it? I’ll say we’re seeing each other. Is that better?”
When she couldn’t find the words to respond, she kissed him instead, but it was a desperate ploy rather than sincere affection. She’d disliked having to be evasive at the center, but now Luke had seen his way to tell the truth, she hated herself for not being able to do the same.
Chapter Sixteen
“You’re not eating,” Luke observed between bites of his second helping of Tuna Helper.
With her stomach twisted in knots, Catherine had found it next to impossible to swallow, but she hadn’t wanted him to notice how little she ate. “I’m not very hungry.”
“Come on, I’m not going to force you to eat, but you’re putting in pretty long days with the mural, and I don’t want you to get sick.”
She was extremely uncomfortable under such close scrutiny but tried to remain civil. “Is there any real scientific evidence that people with little appetite fall ill more often than those who gobble up everything in sight, or is that just an old wives’ tale?”
“Catherine,” Luke cajoled. “What’s wrong? If something’s bugging you, tell me about it rather than go on a hunger strike.”
She searched her mi
nd for some problem, no matter how minor, to avoid mentioning her true concern. At the point of desperation, something of real significance finally occurred to her. “Now that you mention it, I was studying for an exam this morning. I plan to take the CBEST test and look for a full-time teaching position for the fall.”
He paused in mid-bite. “Really? When did you make that decision?”
She twisted her napkin in her lap. “Actually, I’d made it before I met you at Lost Angel. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to relate to teenagers anymore, and if my volunteer work there had been a disaster, I wouldn’t be thinking about teaching again.”
Luke laid his fork very carefully on the side of his plate and sat back in his chair. “Wait a minute, let me see if I have this straight. When you came to Lost Angel, you weren’t interested in volunteering with us per se but simply in working on your rapport with teenagers?”
His expression wasn’t nearly as harsh as his question, but Catherine could see he was disappointed in her. “No, my motives weren’t entirely selfish. I really did want to volunteer with homeless teens. It’s a huge problem, and I believed I might be able to help. The fact that I had to fight you for the privilege should convince you of my sincerity.”
“Yeah, you convinced me, all right. When did you plan to tell me about your plans for the fall?”
Again, the sarcastic edge to his voice sliced her sore conscience, but certain she deserved worse, she shrugged. “I don’t know, after the mural is finished I suppose. Of course, if I don’t pass the CBEST test, and Dave was helping me with the algebra portion, then I won’t be going anywhere until I do. Besides, it’s a long time until fall, so I’ll still be volunteering for several more months.”
“Well, it’s nice to know we’d still fit into your plans.”
“Luke, I’m not leaving you, but I would like to teach again, and as you pointed out, there would be enormous problems associated with setting up a volunteer tutoring program at Lost Angel.”
“True, but rather than discuss this with me,” he asked pointedly, “you went to Dave for help?”
“You’re awfully busy, and I was just trying to be nice to Dave. But you were right, I probably gave him the wrong idea. He was very helpful, though.”
Luke stood and rested his hands on the back of his chair. “Well, that’s just great. I’ve already told you this wasn’t the best day of my life, but I try not to get into more than one fight per day with a woman, and Melissa used up my quota. Now I’m going to be really rude and walk out without helping with the dishes, but I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I’ve got the day off, and there’s nothing I’d rather do than work on the mural.”
Catherine left her chair with sufficient speed to overtake him before he’d left the kitchen. “You invited me to confide in you, but now you’re angry. I have every right to plan for my future. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Fine, you got me, but I’m not your therapist, Catherine. You’re not paying me to respond with sympathetic questions, and I gave you my honest reaction. We’ve got nothing if we can’t be honest with each other, and springing a major decision on me like that wasn’t fair. After all, if you’re teaching, we’ll have a lot less time to spend together, and that will affect me too.”
The knot in her stomach tightened to a gut-wrenching clench. “I know, but I’m trying to get my life together. Going back into teaching will be a big step for me. I need your support.”
He leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Sure, I’ll write you a glowing reference. But the next time you go off in some new direction, will you please signal to warn me first?”
She let him walk out of her house without begging him to stay. Considering what she’d witnessed of Luke’s temper on previous occasions, his reaction to her news had been mild, but she’d still hurt him, and that increased her own anguish tenfold.
When Catherine arrived at Toby’s Saturday morning, Rafael had already been at work several hours painting the angel who had resembled Violet in his drawing. Now she was complete to the last meticulous detail, and the resemblance was strikingly accurate. He climbed down from the scaffold to observe his work and greeted Catherine warmly.
“Good morning, Mrs. Brooks. What do you think of my angel?”
“She’s very beautiful, but I wish Violet could be proud to appear in the mural rather than frightened witless.”
“That’s her problem,” Rafael exclaimed. “Now the light is perfect this morning, and I want to take advantage of it. Got your camera?”
“Yes, I’ll get one of the angels right now.” Catherine was still seeking the best angle to shoot through the scaffolding when Luke walked up behind her. She went ahead and took the photograph before he distracted her completely, but unwilling to apologize, she waited for him to speak.
“Did you sleep well?” he whispered.
She turned around slowly. His sunglasses obscured his expression, but the sly smile which had always been her undoing tugged at his mouth.
“That’s classified information,” she responded coolly, “and to renew your security clearance, you’ll have to reapply.”
“That bad, huh?” Luke shook his head. “I didn’t sleep well, either. I kept thinking about how much you like to plan ahead while I don’t. I imagine we’re going to run smack into that difference over and over again. Unless, of course, one of us changes his point of view.”
“Is that even possible?” she asked.
He was dressed in the same tattered Levi’s he’d worn the day they’d painted his office, but his T-shirt was a souvenir from a beach city’s ten kilometer run. “I’d like to believe anything is possible,” he hedged, “but that would be admitting a better future might exist.”
“Careful, Dr. Starns, you’re straying dangerously close to my side.”
Again Luke dropped his voice. “I’m interested in a hell of a lot more than your side. Let’s try to make it to a movie tonight so we’ll have an excuse to hold hands.”
“I’d like that. Maybe we could just go into Old Town, stroll around until we find a place to eat and then see what’s playing in the theaters.”
“Are you suggesting we plan not to plan?” Luke teased.
“For the moment, yes.” She enjoyed this playful banter so much more than the unavoidable confrontations which constantly sprang up between them. “Now we better get to work before the kids start pointing and giggling at us.”
“Maybe we ought to just get that over with now.” Luke slid his arms around her waist and kissed her so soundly all the kids scattered around the porch and scaffolding began to hoot and holler.
Toby and Dave, who had just rounded the house carrying paint, nearly dropped their buckets in surprise. “What the hell are you doing, Luke?” Dave called to him.
Luke laced his fingers in Catherine’s and drew her along with him toward the house and the two men. “Catherine and I have been seeing each other almost since her first day at Lost Angel. I asked her to keep it quiet, but I should have been up front about it with you.”
Toby just laughed. “I knew it, but you remember what I said, Catherine. It still goes.”
Dave, however, regarded Luke with a darkly threatening glance. “You knew what my feelings were.”
“Yes, I did, but the choice was hers, Dave, not mine.”
Rather than reply, Dave left the yard and returned to Lost Angel before Catherine could say anything to ease his shock. Clearly he was furious with them both for carrying on right under his nose and lying about it.
“I hate secrets,” she blurted out. “Now, Rafael says it’s a great day to paint so let’s get to work.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Toby replied. “Just point me in the right direction.”
“We don’t need you out here,” Luke said. “Go pound on some metal in your studio.”
“That okay with you, Catherine?”
“Sure, Toby, we’ll call you if we need you.”
“You do that,” Toby called ov
er his shoulder, and he left them to attend to his own work.
Catherine turned and nearly bumped into Tina Stassy. “Oh, Tina, I’m sorry. What do you need?”
“Those guys in the tan car over there are creeping me out. Why are they watching us?”
“They’re looking for suspects,” Luke responded, “but they’re in the wrong place, so they’re wasting their time and the taxpayers’ money. Now, what would you and Charlie like to paint?”
“We’re just hanging out here. I’m going to help Polly when we get to the flowers at the bottom. Polly’s real good with flowers.”
“Is that a fact?” Luke grabbed Catherine’s beach chair and carried it across the yard to where she usually sat. “Just make yourself comfortable, and I’ll try and stay out of your way. I brought donuts for the kids. Who’s ready for a break?”
Catherine watched as Luke produced a couple of cardboard boxes filled with donuts, and the kids all gathered around to grab one. Nick slapped Luke on the back and leaned close to whisper something that made Luke laugh, and Catherine was certain it must have been about her. If she knew Luke, which she did, he would tolerate such playful teasing today, but on Monday, it would be business as usual, and he’d demand the respect they both deserved.
The weather was beautiful, clear and yet not too warm, and if she just admired the mural and the kids’ ambition to complete it, it was a perfect morning. It was only when her glance drifted toward Luke, which was often, that she longed for so much more.
That night Catherine and Luke ate a mesquite wood-fired pizza and went to an off-beat romantic comedy which had gotten excellent reviews. It was a lighthearted evening, and she wanted it to end that way. She kissed Luke as soon as they’d come through her front door and did so with an enthusiasm that convinced him he’d been missed.
He ran his fingers through her hair to hold her close and returned her kiss with equal fervor before pulling away. “Hey,” he whispered. “I’m sorry about last night, but you must have learned by now I’m never angry for long.”
