Prognosis: Romance

by Gina Wilkins

  There was a quick scramble for more decorations to glue onto the bags. Shannon laughed again at their enthusiasm, then felt her smile fade when a funny tingling slipped down her spine. Swallowing, she turned slowly to glance toward the house.

  James stood in the open doorway that led into the kitchen, watching her.

  Slowly cleaning her glue-sticky hands on one of the dampened paper wipes available for that purpose, she was pleased he’d happened to look out just as all the girls were bent industriously over their crafts, obviously having a good time. For only a moment, she wished he could see her at one of her more elaborate parties—the medieval knights and princesses party she’d organized just last month, for example. Now that had been a blowout, few expenses spared by the doting parents for their rather spoiled daughter. She had several parties booked in the next few months as a result of that one, her most successful endeavor thus far.

  This was a very simple little party, as Mrs. Hayes had requested, but it was a clear success. She supposed that was what counted, if…er, anyone should happen to be observing, judging her competence.

  Seeing she had noticed him, James nodded. Even from where she stood, she could see his lips tilting into that sexy little smile. Her pulse rate tripped in response.

  “Miss Shannon, will you help me decide where to put this bow?” one of the little girls asked.

  Drawing her attention from James with an effort, Shannon turned back to her job, telling herself she would deal with James later.

  Chapter Five

  Parents arrived to collect their daughters right on time and it didn’t take long to wrap up the kids’ party. As she began to gather her decorations and supplies, Shannon judged the event an unequivocal success. The girls all seemed to be smiling as they departed, carrying party favors in their lavishly decorated tote bags.

  “Let me help you haul some of that stuff to your car,” Connor offered, handing the camera he’d been snapping to Mia, who was helping Alexis take her gifts inside.

  “I’ll help, too.” Appearing suddenly at Shannon’s side, James relieved her of the lidded plastic container she’d been holding.

  “You guys don’t have to do this,” she protested, even as the men were already moving toward the front of the house with their loads. “Go back and join your friends. It will only take me a few minutes to—”

  But they had already rounded the corner of the house, leaving her talking to thin air. Sighing, she began to pack away the last of the supplies she’d brought with her. She’d already gathered the trash. Alexis had begged her to leave the balloons and banner in place for now, to which her parents had indulgently agreed.

  With Connor and James helping, it took only a few minutes to pack everything into her little SUV, which was filled almost to capacity. Connor closed the back liftgate cautiously, making sure nothing jutted out to prevent it from latching. “Just barely held it all,” he said with a laugh.

  Shannon smiled. “Thank you both for your help.”

  “You’re welcome.” Connor motioned toward the house. “Would you like to come in for coffee? We’ve got the game on inside. The last quarter’s just starting.”

  Remembering James’s admission that he wasn’t at all interested in football, not even the team most Arkansans cheered for, she glanced his direction. “Go, Hogs,” he murmured, as he had before.

  Sharing that memory, they smiled at each other.

  “We would all love to have you join us for coffee,” Connor said, glancing from Shannon to James and back again.

  She twisted her car keys in her hands. “Thank you, but I’d better be on my way. I still have to get all this stuff unpacked and put away.”

  Connor nodded, then shook her hand and thanked her again for her services. “It was a nice party. Alexis had a great time. You really saved a lot of work for Mia and me.”

  “I enjoyed meeting you all. Alexis is adorable. She and her friends were one of the best-behaved groups I’ve worked with.”

  Connor grimaced humorously. “Yes, well, they have their moments.”

  He glanced at James again, then took a step backward. “I’d better get back inside. Thanks again for everything, Shan non.”

  James lingered when Connor moved away. “Sounds like your party was a hit.”

  “I think so. It was hardly elaborate, but the girls seemed to have fun.”

  James lifted a shoulder in a light shrug. “Doesn’t have to be elaborate to be a success. Mia said she would never have been able to put together all the craft supplies and the games and prizes and decorations you provided on such short notice, especially with her schedule. She and Connor are both receiving their advanced degrees in May, so maybe things won’t be quite so hectic for them after that, though with him in residency and her looking for an administrative position in education, they’ll always be busy.”

  She grinned. “Busy parents mean good business for me.”

  “Sounds like you’ll be getting some calls from Mia and Connor’s friends. They’re impressed with what they’ve seen today. Everyone could see that you’re very good at what you do.”

  Pleasure flooded through her. There was no compliment he could give her that would delight her more. She’d spent her entire life as the indulged baby sister or the supportive girlfriend. It felt good to be seen a competent and successful businesswoman. Success, she reminded herself, was not always synonymous with money.

  “You’re sure you don’t want to come in for coffee?”

  “No, I really can’t. But I haven’t forgotten that I owe you a cup.”

  He looked at her questioningly and she couldn’t blame him for not being quite sure how to interpret her comment. After all, it had been over a week since she’d assured him coffee was her treat the next time. She had wondered if she would still be as attracted to him upon seeing him again after that interval. She’d had her answer the moment she’d looked up to see him watching her from the kitchen doorway and her knees had almost liquefied in reaction. His matter-of-fact praise of her career skills had only made him more appealing to her.

  Maybe her instincts had overreacted a bit where James was concerned. Maybe her initial summary of him as a march-in, take-charge kind of guy wasn’t exactly correct. He’d certainly given her little reason to believe that thus far. Maybe she had mistaken composure and self-assurance for an authoritarianism he did not possess. As he had pointed out to her, she’d made up her mind about him without giving him a chance to correct what could be an erroneous first impression.

  And even if it turned out she’d been right the first time, she’d learned how to deal with men like that, right? She knew now how to stand up for herself, how to protect herself from disappointment and heartbreak. So it was foolish of her to deny herself a chance to enjoy his company just for fear of where it might lead.

  “Hang on.” She dug into her purse and drew out one of the pink-and-black Kid Capers business cards she had designed and printed herself. “That’s my cell number,” she said. “If I don’t answer, I’m probably working with a customer at the toy store, so just leave me a message and I’ll call you back.”

  “And why will I be calling you?”

  She rather liked the somewhat confused look on his face. Keeping him slightly off-balance was another way for her to stay in control. “You’ll be calling to arrange a time when we can get together for that coffee.”

  His mouth quirking into a smile, he tucked the card into his pocket. “I’ll look forward to it.”

  She climbed into her car and drove away without further conversation.

  Though the days were still hot during the first week of September, evenings brought some relief. The air was still very warm, but tolerable, as Shannon and James strolled down President Clinton Avenue in Little Rock’s River Market District on the Friday following the birthday party. After a couple of stormy days, the weather this evening was perfect, clear and fanned by a light breeze. Quite a few people mingled around them on the sidewalk.


  It was the second Friday of the month, when many of the galleries and shops stayed open later for “2nd Friday Art Night,” some even serving wine and appetizers to draw in potential customers. Shannon tried to keep most second Friday nights open to enjoy the atmosphere and see what was new each month.

  Music drifted from several of the bars and restaurants surrounding them. It wasn’t yet dark, but lights were already beginning to reflect across the surface of the fast-moving Arkansas River flowing adjacent to the Avenue. Between the buildings they passed, Shannon caught glimpses of the river and the thirty-three-acre Riverside Park. The park stretched eleven blocks and included playgrounds, a promenade lined with ten large sculptures and a blue-canopied, ten-thousand-seat riverside amphitheater in which a local band was performing to a smallish, but noisily enthusiastic audience. She’d attended several concerts there herself.

  Yellow-and-red electric trolleys passed on the busy street. They carried tourists and locals alike to the hotels, bars, restaurants, shops and galleries, and on down the street to the Museum of Discovery, the Main Library, located in a renovated riverside warehouse, the Arkansas Studies Institute, with its impressive art gallery, and the Clinton Presidential Library at the end of the Avenue. Shannon’s nieces and nephews loved riding the trolley. She’d accompanied them several times on daytrips to the bustling farmer’s market and to the museums.

  On the other side of the river sat the city of North Little Rock. Located along the north bank of the river were the busy minor-league baseball park, the almost-always-booked Verizon Arena, and the open-for-tours World War II submarine, the U.S.S. Razorback, which was the main draw of the Maritime Museum. She’d visited all of those attractions at some point, usually in the presence of various family members. High-rise buildings housing businesses and condos stabbed into the early-evening sky on both sides of the river.

  Shannon loved the lakes, woods and hills of rural Arkansas, but she had to admit a weakness for this lively, bustling downtown area, as well. For a compulsive people-watcher like her, this was an ideal place to spend a leisurely Friday evening.

  “This was a good idea,” James commented when they paused to admire the art displayed in a gallery window. “I haven’t spent much time in the River Market District since Ron moved out of his downtown condo and moved into Haley’s apartment last spring.”

  She glanced at one of the old buildings ahead that had been converted into loft condominiums. “I was tempted to buy one of those cool lofts, but I decided to rent a house with my friend Devin, instead. We needed the extra storage room for party supplies and we can use the living room for meeting with clients.”

  “So Devin is your business partner?”

  “No. The business is mine. Devin’s a friend from school—well, she was in classes with my sister, Stacy, a couple of years ahead of me. She was looking for a roommate at about the time I decided to look for a house to rent, so Stacy suggested we move in together and it’s worked out very well. She helps me out with my party business in exchange for me paying a few dollars more on the rent. It works out for both of us.”

  “Good for you.”

  “I got two more bookings as a result of the Hayes party last weekend. Thanks again for the referral.”

  “You’ve thanked me enough times for that. I really didn’t do that much.” He motioned around them at the many inviting doorways. “Is there anywhere in particular you’d like to go? Are you hungry?”

  They’d agreed to meet in the parking lot behind the River Market Pavilion at six, giving them a couple of hours to explore the shops and galleries. “Not yet. Let’s go in here. I love this store.”

  He followed her obligingly into a fair-market shop that sold items crafted by third world artisans. It was one of her favorite places to shop for gifts. Reasonably priced, unique merchandise, and she knew her money was put to good use. With James close behind her, she wandered through the shop, admiring the home-decor items, bags, jewelry and toys. Exotic music played from hidden speakers, promoting the CDs from around the world on sale near the cash register.

  “You’re very tactile, aren’t you?” James commented, indicating that he’d been paying more attention to her than the merchandise.

  Letting a handwoven scarf trail through her fingers, she smiled. “I am. I have to touch everything displayed in stores, especially anything that looks soft or silky or textured. It drives my sister crazy because it takes me twice as long as her to shop.”

  He reached around her to pluck the colorful fringed scarf from the display peg, wrapping it around her shoulders like a jaunty shawl. “Looks good on you.”

  She laughed softly and savored the feel of the fabric around her shoulders. In deference to the late-summer heat, she’d worn a sleeveless green cotton top with a flowing, midthigh-length patterned skirt and woven green flats. The green, red, yellow and purple striped scarf added a brightly bohemian touch to her outfit, and felt good against the artificially chilled air brushing her skin from an overhead vent.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I love picturing it on a loom in—” She checked the tag. “In Ecuador, with a skilled weaver choosing just the right threads and pattern.”

  James flicked the tag on a deep purple silk scarf. “This one’s from India.”

  She pointed to others displayed on the same wall. “That one’s from Bolivia. And here’s one from Nepal. And another from Bangladesh. That’s why I love to shop here, knowing those talented artisans all around the world are being paid fairly for their beautiful work.”

  Standing close in front of her, he made a slight adjustment to the scarf she still wore. “You have a big heart. And a big imagination.”

  His proximity—not to mention his touch—made her mouth go a bit dry. She moistened her lips and tried to speak casually. “I have to use my imagination. I’m an armchair traveler, I’m afraid. I’ve never left the continental U.S. and I haven’t traveled that much within those borders. What about you? Have you been to any of the places where these scarves were made?”

  “Yes.” Without elaboration, he turned to pick up a paperweight made of a river rock decorated with a swirling pattern of brilliantly red goldfish. “This is nice.”

  “I have one of those on the writing desk in my bedroom. They’re from Vietnam. The scales on the fish are made with the thumbprints of the artist. Each one is unique.”

  He looked at her again, his dark eyes gleaming like the lacquered stone in his hand. She swallowed, wondering if her artless mention of her bedroom had sparked the sudden flare of tension between them. Or was she the only one now picturing James in that particular room of her house? His expression was so hard to read; maybe she was simply projecting her own unbidden fantasies.

  Dragging her gaze from his, she reached up to remove the scarf, which was priced a little higher than she could afford to spend just then. “Why don’t we walk down to the Arkansas Studies Institute art gallery next? I’ve haven’t seen the new exhibits there yet, have you?”

  “No.” He caught her hand before she could take off the scarf. “I don’t suppose you’d let me buy that for you? It looks good on you.”

  She twisted a little, stepping out of his reach as she slid the scarf from her shoulders and returned it to its peg. “Thank you, but no. It’s still a little too warm for it, anyway.”

  He looked at the scarf with a frown and for a moment she worried that he was going to try to overrule her and buy the scarf anyway, the way he had with the coffee at the bookstore. To her relief, he merely nodded and turned away, carrying the paperweight to the register to purchase for himself.

  They spent some time in the four galleries of the Arkansas Studies Institute perusing the paintings, drawings, sculptures and other art, mostly by artists with Arkansas connections. She realized immediately that James had a keen interest in art, and a good eye for unique talent. It was a pleasure to walk beside him and listen to his analyses of the various pieces, and she encouraged him to continue when he hesitated as if i
n concern that he was boring her.

  She couldn’t imagine being bored by James. Perplexed, maybe. Discomfited. Intrigued and aroused. She could even imagine having her heart broken by him. But she doubted she would ever find him boring.

  They were walking toward the exit when James paused to examine a small watercolor in the retail gallery. Depicting a rose garden with a copper watering can lying on its side in the dirt, the little painting wasn’t up to the standards of some of the ones they had admired, but something about it seemed to catch James’s attention. Studying his face, she made an effort to decipher his expression. His features were as smoothly composed as always, but there was something about the set of his mouth…

  He turned her way, smiling a little when he saw that she was looking at him. “Ready to go? I don’t know about you, but I’m a little hungry.”

  Glancing at the watercolor again, she decided to wait before asking him about it, to give herself time to mull over whatever she had seen in his face. “I could eat.”

  Accompanying her out the door and back onto the sidewalk, he named several restaurants within walking distance. Several of them were out of Shannon’s usual price range and certainly didn’t fit into this month’s budget. She usually ate in the Market Hall food court, where a wide assortment of international dishes were available for very reasonable prices. But the food court was already closed for the evening, so she motioned to an establishment only a block away. “How about burritos?”

  She’d eaten there before and knew she could afford the prices. Besides, she liked burritos.

  Again, his expression showed no particular reaction. He merely nodded and fell into step beside her toward the invitingly open front of the burrito establishment. The front wall was made up of lifting glass doors; in nice weather like this, the only barrier between the tables and the sidewalks was a low wrought iron fence, giving an illusion of dining outdoors.