by Janet Dailey
‘You’re referring to the modeling you’ve started in clay. When are you going to show me what you’ve done so far?’
‘When I’m willing to stand some criticism,’ Sabrina smiled ruefully.
‘And you think my judgment would be critical?’ Bay prompted.
‘I don’t think you’re going to let me get by with mediocrity simply because I’m blind,’ she acknowledged.
‘I don’t think you would lean on that crutch and lower your standards either,’ he returned.
‘I couldn’t,’ admitted Sabrina with a nod of her head. A fervent note crept into her voice. ‘I want to be more than just good. I want to be great. It’s the only way I’ll be able to support myself with art as my career.’
‘And that’s very important to you, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. Not just for pride’s sake or to be independent,’ she went on earnestly, ‘but because I don’t want to keep being a burden to my father. I know he doesn’t think of me that way, but I know that because of me he hasn’t married Deborah. Only by having an independent income could I prove to him that I’m capable of living on my own.’
‘You could always get married. That’s a very excellent reason for leaving home,’ Bay suggested.
‘There happen to be two obstacles to that solution,’ Sabrina laughed shortly, not taking his suggestion seriously.
‘What are they?’
‘First, there isn’t anyone I happen to be in love with, and it would be pretty shallow to marry a man simply to get out of the house.’
‘And the second?’
‘The second is a very crucial one. There would have to be someone around willing to marry me.’ There was a dubious shake of her head as if such a contingency would never occur.
‘Is that so unlikely?’ Bay asked with curious mockery.
‘If they’re sane, it would be.’ She laughed quietly again.
‘I’ve always considered myself to be sane. I guess that puts me out of the running, doesn’t it?’
Sabrina felt his gaze searching her face, alert to her reaction. She was suddenly self-conscious about the subject they were discussing.
‘It certainly would,’ she answered firmly.
‘I guess that settles that,’ Bay stated. The nonchalance in his voice didn’t match the sensation Sabrina had that he had been interested in her answer. Maybe he thought she wanted to take advantage of his apparent wealth. ‘Would you like some more coffee, Sabrina, or shall we leave?’
‘No more, thank you. I’m ready if you are.’ Her hand found the ivory cane hooked over the arm of her chair.
After that first successful dinner, Bay took Sabrina out several times during the following weeks. The restaurants he chose were seldom crowded but served excellent food.
The only twinges of self-consciousness she experienced came when friends of Bay’s stopped at their table to say hello. She had sensed their surprise upon learning she was blind and guessed that they wondered why Bay was with her.
At odd times, she wondered why herself, but the answer had ceased to be important. It was enough to enjoy his company without constantly questioning his motives for being with her. In a way she didn’t want to find out. She was afraid his reason might be a charitable one. Although she had come a great distance out of her shell, she was still averse to pity from any quarter and most especially from Bay.
Carefully she smoothed the arm of the clay figure, letting her fingers transfer the image to her mind’s eye. A faint shiver of subdued elation trembled over her at the completed picture of a ballet dancer captured in the middle of a pirouette that her mind saw. With each passing week her hands had become more sure and more adept. The successes had begun to outnumber the failures.
Footsteps echoed into the studio from the stairway. Quelling her excitement, Sabrina stepped back from the work stand, a faint smile of triumph tickling the corners of her mouth. Wiping her hands on the towel, she turned slightly toward the door as the footsteps approached. An eagerness she couldn’t conceal was in her stance.
‘Come in, Dad,’ she called when the footsteps paused at the door. ‘I’ve finished the third. Come and see it.’
The instant the door opened, her head tipped sideways in a listening attitude. The person entering the room was not her father but Bay. She knew it instinctively.
‘What are you doing here?’ she breathed in surprise ‘You said you wouldn’t come until seven. It can’t be that late.’ She had removed her watch so she couldn’t check the time.
‘It isn’t. It’s the middle of the afternoon,’ Bay returned with faint amusement. ‘Since you haven’t extended an invitation for me to see your work, I persuaded your father to send me up here rather than have you come down.’
In an instinctive, protective movement, Sabrina moved a few steps to try to block his line of sight. Only her father and Deborah had seen the result of her many hours of labor in the studio. She was not yet ready for someone outside her family to see what she had done.
‘That doesn’t explain what you’re doing here in the middle of the afternoon,’ she murmured defensively.
’doesn’t it? I thought it did.’ She could hear the smile in his tone. ‘Actually you’re right,’ Bay conceded. ‘I had another purpose for coming other than sneaking into your studio. I’m afraid I have to cancel our dinner date tonight — I’m sorry, Sabrina.’
‘That’s all right,’ she shrugged.
It wasn’t all right, but she didn’t want him to realize how much she looked forward to an evening with him. She didn’t like to admit it to herself. There was no future in it. The future was here in this studio with her work.
‘I don’t know whether I should be pleased or insulted that you’ve taken the news so calmly.’ Sabrina sensed the arching of a thick brow in her direction, faintly mocking and faintly curious. ‘You might show a little regret.’
‘I would have enjoyed the evening.’ Pride inserted a slightly indifferent tone in her voice. ‘Obviously whatever it is that’s forced you to cancel our dinner together must be important or I don’t think you would have canceled.’ The intense scrutiny of his gaze was disturbing. Striving for lightness, Sabrina added with a taut smile, ‘I certainly hope you’ve warned your jealous girlfriend that she doesn’t need to scratch my eyes out. I’m already quite blind and disfigurement I don’t need.’ It was a facetious remark, not an expression of self-pity.
‘What makes you think it’s a jealous girlfriend who’s changing our plans?’ The inflection in his voice was mockingly amused, but Sabrina was still conscious of his penetrating look.
‘I don’t know that it is,’ she answered with a teasing smile. ‘But I certainly hope you don’t expect me to believe that you’re a celibate.’
‘What makes you think I’m not?’ Bay countered.
The virilely masculine face her hands had seen was immediately before her inner eye. The image made a mockery of his question. In too many little ways, Bay’s actions in the past had answered his own question.
‘A girl has ways of knowing these things,’ Sabrina smiled complacently. ‘A kind of female intuition, I suppose.’
‘If you believe that about me, then what conclusion have you reached to explain why I haven’t brought our relationship to a more intimate level?’ he asked lazily.
’really, Bay!’ Sabrina laughed as if the question was ridiculous under the circumstances. ‘We’re friends, nothing more.’
‘Strictly platonic, is that it?’
‘Of course.’ A tiny frown puckered her forehead at the faint harshness in his remark.
‘In that case, when are you going to step aside to let a “friend” see your work? My view is somewhat limited with you standing in front of it,’ he mocked.
Sabrina decided that she had imagined the sharpness in his previous question. She had only been stating the obvious and he had agreed in an indirect way.
For a hesitant moment, she remained where she was, wanting to know his reaction to her wo
rk but unsure yet of the extent of her own skill in this field of art. Almost reluctantly she stepped to one side, apprehension edging the corners of her bland expression as Bay walked forward for a closer look.
‘S-some of my first attempts are on the side table,’ she explained nervously. ‘As you can see, they aren’t very good, but I’ve slowly been improving. Right now I’m working on a series of ballet figures. I thought I’d do a small “corps de ballet” with the central model being a dancing couple. I’m only a third done with the secondary figures, though.’
The silence stretched seemingly without end. Sabrina thought she would burst with the suspense of waiting. Her hands were unconsciously clasped in a praying position.
‘Have any of your friends seen your work?’ Bay asked absently. ‘Your art friends, I mean.’
Her throat worked convulsively as she shook her head in a negative answer before she could speak. ‘Only Dad and Deborah.’
‘I’m no critic, Sabrina,’ he murmured. ‘I only know what I like, and I’m impressed by what I see here. You’ve never done any extensive work in this medium before?’
‘Never,’ she breathed. ’do you really think it’s good? You’re not saying it because I’m blind, are you?’ She needed to hear his approval again.
‘I haven’t treated you with kid gloves since the first time I met you, and I’m not going to put them on now,’ he answered seriously. ‘You know that what you’ve done is more than good. I can see that it is. A professional is the only person who can tell you how good you are. If you want my suggestion, I think you should get hold of someone who can give you that answer.’
‘Not — not yet,’ Sabrina refused. Confidence in her own ability was not to the point where she could endure the scrutiny of her work by an art critic. ‘I’m not ready for that. I need more time.’
‘No one is ever ready to have anything judged by others, but you can’t postpone it for ever.’ His observance was gently understanding while reminding her of the practical need if she intended to make this her career.
‘Not yet,’ she repeated, running her palms nervously over the sides of her clay-stained smock.
‘Cigarette?’ Bay offered.
‘Yes, please.’ Sabrina accepted with a quaking sigh.
As the scent of burning tobacco reached her nose, she extended her hand for the cigarette, but Bay placed the filter tip against her lips, his fingers touching her mouth and sending a shiver of awareness down her spine. Invariably when she came in contact with him, she was intensely conscious of his maleness, the memory of that one fleeting first kiss haunting her again with its tender mastery and checked fire.
‘There’s coffee and cake downstairs,’ she offered hesitantly. ‘If you’d — ’
‘No, I’m sorry, I can’t stay any longer,’ Bay refused before she could complete the invitation. ‘I won’t be able to see you this coming week either. I do have a couple of tickets for the Light Opera’s performance next Saturday if you’re willing to accept that as a raincheck for tonight.’
‘I would enjoy that,’ Sabrina smiled.
‘I promise I’ll make certain I don’t have to cancel that one,’ he smiled. ‘Oh, by the way, there’s something I meant to give you as an apology for tonight.’
‘Give me?’ she frowned as she listened to him reach into his pocket and heard the faint rustle of paper. He placed a small, wrapped box in her hand, long and thin, similar in shape to a jeweler’s box.
‘Open it,’ he ordered, laughing at her hesitation. ‘It’s nothing expensive, if that’s what’s concerning you. In fact, you might decide to throw it in my face when you find out what it is.’
Curious and apprehensive, Sabrina began unwrapping the package. Removing the cardboard top of the small, thin box, her exploring fingers touched a pair of tapering sticks. She turned a bewildered expression to Bay.
‘Sticks?’ she questioned in disbelief.
Bay clicked his tongue in mock reproval. ‘Not just sticks,’ he chuckled. ‘They’re chopsticks. I’m giving you a couple of weeks to practise before I take you to a Cantonese restaurant in Chinatown.’
Laughter bubbled in her throat and she bit into her lower lip to hold it back. With mock seriousness she replied, ‘I suppose I should be grateful that you’ve given me advance warning.’
‘Yes, you should,’ he agreed in a tone of pseudo-arrogance.
‘Even with practice,’ Sabrina couldn’t hold back the laughter, ‘the only thing I’ll probably eat is egg rolls, soup and fortune cookies. All the rest will end up on the floor or the table cloth.’
‘I’ll take the chance,’ Bay smiled. ‘As for next Saturday, I think the occasion will warrant the sophistication of that flame-colored dress.’
‘Is that an order, too?’ she laughed.
‘If it is, will you obey it?’ he countered.
‘Yes,’ she nodded, a wide smile spreading across her cheeks, softening her square jawline.
After Bay’s approval of her work, Sabrina strove even harder for the perfection she demanded. This renewed vigor made the week pass swiftly. The performance of the Light Opera Company the following Saturday seemed a reward for her efforts.
The faint initial nervousness she had felt at the prospect of going to such a very public place vanished under the genuine praise from Bay at her appearance. She had taken extra pains, enlisting Deborah’s aid with her hair and make-up. The two of them had got along much better since Sabrina had started working in the studio again.
No further mention had been made by Deborah of the special school she had thought Sabrina should attend. It was as if they were both counting on the efforts in the studio for the future happiness of each.
Sabrina had not intended to take her ivory cane, vanity not wanting her to be easily identified by the crowd attending the opera as being blind. However, Bay handed her the cane from the umbrella stand as they walked out the door of the house. She had known he would chide her reason for not wanting to carry it, so she had said nothing.
Now the cane was hooked over her arm as they stood in the foyer of the theater. It was intermission between acts. Had Sabrina been with anyone else she would probably have remained in her seat, but Bay had ushered her into the outer lobby.
Bay Cameron was not a man to be overlooked by those around him. His very stature would draw attention to him even if his male magnetism didn’t. Thus Sabrina knew she was the object of many people’s interest and curiosity, especially once they saw the cane on her arm, because she was in his company.
Several people acquainted with Bay stopped, politely including her in their greeting. Bay did not encourage conversation with anyone and they gradually drifted away after the initial exchange. Sabrina wasn’t certain whether it was because he was aware of her uneasiness with strangers or because he was self-conscious that she was blind. The last didn’t seem to fit with his nature and she dismissed it.
‘Bay Cameron!’ an older woman greeted him effusively. Unconsciously Sabrina edged closer to be nearer his protection. ‘I haven’t seen you in ages!’ the woman exclaimed. ‘Where have you been keeping yourself? Is this the little lady I have to blame for your absence?’
His hand moved to rest on the back of Sabrina’s shoulders, drawing her slightly forward as he introduced her. ‘Pamela, I’d like you to meet Sabrina Lane. Sabrina, this is a very dear friend of mine, Pamela Thyssen. She tends to be a bit overpowering and nosy, but she has a gentle heart.’
’don’t you believe him!’ the woman commanded gruffly, a raspy edge to her otherwise cultured voice. ‘My bite is every bit as bad as my bark, so beware, Miss Lane. It is “Miss” Lane, isn’t it?’
’do you see what I mean, Sabrina?’ Bay chuckled. ‘She’s a nosy busybody.’
‘Yes, it is Miss Lane,’ Sabrina confirmed with a faint smile.
She was beginning to agree that Bay’s description of Pamela Thyssen was correct. Although curious and forceful, underneath the woman seemed to be kind.
�
��We single women must stick together,’ Pamela Thyssen averred. ‘Not that I intend to remain single. I’ve outlived two husbands, and they always say the third is a charm. And you, my dear, are you setting your cap for our Bay?’
Sabrina flushed deeply. ‘Hardly, Mrs. Thyssen,’ she denied vigorously.
‘I guess that puts you in your place, Bay!’ the woman laughed loudly.
‘She’s a very independent young lady,’ he agreed with faint amusement, yet she sensed an inner displeasure in his tone.
‘I must get to know Sabrina better. Bring her to my party after the performance.’ It was a command, not a request, and the older woman bade them goodbye before Sabrina could prompt Bay into a refusal.
‘You aren’t actually intending to go, are you?’ she said in a half-demand when they were alone.
‘Why not?’ he countered smoothly. ‘Pamela’s parties are quiet ones and friendly.’
‘I’m uncomfortable with a lot of strangers,’ Sabrina answered defensively.
‘It’s about time you got over that,’ Bay responded, the hand on her back prodding her into movement. ‘Now we only have a few minutes to find our seats before the curtain goes up.’
Seven
* * *
Sabrina curled her fingers into the soft rabbit fur of her black evening jacket, pushing the collar around her neck. The corners of her mouth drooped downward in frustration as she nibbled at her sensitive lower lip. The closed window of the car did not completely block out the sound of other cars exiting the theater lot.
‘Why can’t you take me home and go to the party by yourself?’ The suggestion she made had a vaguely desperate ring to it.
‘The invitation was for both of us,’ Bay reminded her.
‘Mrs. Thyssen doesn’t know me. She wouldn’t even miss me if I wasn’t there,’ Sabrina reasoned.
‘Yes, she will.’ A smile lightened the firmness of his tone. ‘Especially since you were the one who prompted her to extend the invitation.’
