Painted Moon

by Karin Kallmaker

  Angela grunted as she read the note and then closed the portfolio. For the next twenty minutes she rapid-fired questions at Jackie about several of the projects, testing her recall and understanding of high conservation and earthquake designs. Jackie felt her poise return as she answered. She was on solid ground in those areas. She might not have the imagination to design a butterfly bridge or Falling Water, but her ideas about the basics of building design had a creative flair and a solid grasp of practical engineering. She had never made the mistake of designing something without load-bearing walls, something Kelly had done twice.

  When she finished her questioning, Angela drummed her fingers briefly on her desk. She studied Jackie for a moment, then said, "I know L&B doesn't pay associates in training much more than bus fare. We'd pay you a little better than that, but if you survive here, pass your exams and are asked to stay on as a full associate, your pay won't go up very much. The kind of work we do is not that lucrative and no one here, including me, lives in anything like a usual architect's style."

  Jackie's heart was pounding. "Having seen the usual architect's style up close and personal, I can safely say it's a style I have no intention of adopting. And after living in a tent for three summers at Taliesin West, I've gotten used to the idea of living simply."

  Angela smiled. "Can you spend another half-hour here?"

  Jackie nodded. So she'd be late to work. She didn't care.

  "Wait here a moment."

  Angela walked briskly out to the main office, returning in a few minutes to lead Jackie to another office. "Diane, this is Jackie Frakes. Jackie — Diane Donahue. She's the preceptor with a vacancy. I'll leave you to talk."

  Jackie shook hands with the red-haired Diane and they shared pleasantries. Diane reviewed her portfolio and her resume but didn't probe as hard as Angela had. The gaze from deep hazel eyes, however, was as penetrating as Angela's had been. She commented wryly that Jackie had probably been grilled enough for one day. "You passed Angela's inquisition, so I won't do it to you again. When can you start?"

  Jackie gulped. "You mean... urn, well, how soon would you like me to?"

  "Yesterday, but I know you'll have to give L&B notice." Diane made the same dismissive gesture with her shoulders that Angela had. She had probably picked it up from Angela. Plainly, Diane wouldn't give two cents about giving L&B notice.

  "Can I have a day to decide? Is that okay?" All her instincts told her to say yes right away, but nonetheless, she knew that she should look into NDA's background. "If I decide to accept it'll be at the most two weeks until I could start."

  Diane grinned. "That would be fabulous, but if you have to stay on another week, I'll understand. And I do hope you accept."

  "I'll let you know first thing tomorrow morning," Jackie said. "Oh. I suppose we should talk about money before I make up my mind."

  "What a novel concept," Diane said wryly. "I'm sorry. I should have brought it up — I thought Angela would have covered it."

  "She said it would most likely be more than what L&B's giving me, but she wasn't more specific."

  Diane named a figure that left Jackie with a pleased smile. Diane arched an eyebrow and said, "Get used to it. If you hang around this place it won't be going up any time soon. Angela's very fair about handing out bonuses when we have a good year, but the last couple have been tough. We're all in it together, though."

  "That's encouraging," Jackie said. "I'm almost certain I'll say yes, but I'll let you know as soon as I've had a chance to think about it— no later than tomorrow morning."

  They shook hands again and Jackie left, feeling as though she was walking on air. Filled with surging confidence and hope, she decided she could risk being even later for work so she could check NDA's status with the American Institute of Architects.

  She left the AIA offices on a cloud. Angela Martine and Diane Donahue were both members in good standing, NDA itself was a paid up member and voluntarily participated in peer assessment and review. They were in good standing with the California Board of Architects. She had no qualms about accepting the job and stopped at the pay phone in the AIA building lobby to call Diane Donahue and accept. She floated down to the MUNI train and then up the three blocks to the L&B building.

  Mannings was very unpleasant when Jackie told him she was leaving, but admitted that Randall had been dubious about her future at L&B. He was downright nasty when she said she was going to NDA and reminded her specifically and at length about the ethics of taking any work she'd done for L&B to another firm. She assured him that she knew the ethical code as well as anyone at L&B and that she had not and would not discuss the drawings she'd done on the affordable housing project with anyone at NDA. In the end, they agreed she only needed to stay long enough to wrap up her CAD specifications for the condominium project. The following Friday was set as her last day.

  Mary Nguyen was both congratulatory and dismayed. "I'm so happy for you, but Jesus, I'm going to miss having you around. This makes me the only female associate in training."

  "I'm sorry, Mary, really."

  Mary cocked her head to one side. "No, you're not. Why pretend? I wish you just the best of everything, you weasel."

  Jackie laughed and promised to go out to dinner with Mary on her last day. Even when the memory of Leah intruded on her, she found herself savoring it instead of dreading it.

  She was starting over. If this was as bad as it got, she could handle it.

  She felt good until she remembered she would see Parker this weekend. She was not looking forward to it.

  7

  Leah muscled Butch to one side and answered the door. She knew that someone had been coming down the driveway because of Butch's barking. For a moment she let herself imagine it might be Jackie, but she quelled the thought. Jackie wasn't coming back, and Leah wasn't sure she wanted her to. It had just been one of those things — close quarters.

  "So, the great Lee Beck answers her own door," a musical, mocking voice said.

  "Constance!" Leah blinked stupidly and then stood back to let her in.

  "And this is the old homestead. Quaint and cozy." Constance pulled off her gloves and stomped her boots on the mat where Leah's thick, practical winter boots were piled. Long curls of blond hair fell around her shoulders as she pulled her ski cap off. "No wonder you never invited me up here. You'd never get me away. Though your place in Hayward isn't exactly chopped liver."

  Leah closed the door and gave Constance a wry glance. "So what are you doing here?"

  "Not even glad to see me?" Constance cupped Leah's face in her hand and gave her one of her lingering kisses — the kind that had always peeved Sharla even though Leah had never shown the slightest interest in Constance's considerable charms. For the first time Leah allowed to herself that now she had the choice of whether to respond. She wasn't sure what to do. So she backed away.

  Constance laughed. "Same old Lee. I was in the neighborhood, darling, and thought I'd find out what my favorite artist is doing with herself."

  Leah led the way into the kitchen. "You don't expect me to believe that, do you?"

  "But it's true, sweets. I'm staying at Kirkwood for a few days and the skiing's bad today because of the wind. So I thought I'd drive over and see you. Find out if you're still alive. I got lost twice."

  "You mean find out if I've got any more commissions for you." Constance looked stricken for a moment and Leah instantly regretted her flip tone.

  Instead of her usual banter, Constance patted Leah's cheek. "I've been worried about you."

  The warmth of Constance's hand penetrated to Leah's stomach. She was suddenly aware that it wouldn't take much for Constance to seduce her. She'd been more than ready to go to bed with Jackie, who was straight, for God's sake, and here was Constance who had never made any secret of her desire for Leah.

  "I know," she said at last. She stepped away from Constance's hand and heard her sigh. "Would you like some coffee?"

  "If you're still hooked on gourm
et blends, I'd love some." Constance's upbeat tone had returned. "So. Have you been working?"

  "I only started to recently. You may be psychic, because I was going to send you some snapshots in a few weeks."

  "Lee—you're kidding. I'm so happy for you. I know it's been tough, darling. Can I peek?"

  Smiling indulgently, Leah led the way to her studio. She felt so good about the work she had no qualms showing it to Constance. Constance had a good eye for art and, importantly, an eye for what would catch critical opinion and what would sell — sometimes two completely different things. Leah wanted both.

  As she opened the door she said, "The entire series is called Painted Moon. I had a houseguest over Thanksgiving—"

  "A houseguest? Someone besides me?" Constance swept into the studio after Leah, taking her hand. Her tall, slender frame was rigid with indignation. She caught Leah's gaze and held it. "Who was it?"

  "A woman who got lost in that big storm over Thanksgiving." She waved a hand as though the contact had meant nothing, hiding the fact that remembering Jackie still moved her pulse to an aerobic level. Her fingers still felt the sensation of Jackie's wetness surrounding them, her ears could still hear the moaned, fervent Yes. "Anyway, the moon came out in an eerie blue, almost as if it were painted by the snow. It really got my creative juices flowing."

  "Is that all that got flowing?" Constance turned away, obviously not expecting an answer to her jibe.

  "Your mind is always on one thing," Leah observed.

  "Not that it ever did me any good with you. The only artist I've ever met who wasn't ready to hop into bed—" Her voice trailed away as Leah uncovered the first canvas. "Lee. My God."

  "There are eight in the series. This is Moon Pines."

  Constance sank down to her knees to examine the bottom of the painting where streaks of silver meshed with thick whorls of pewter paint. "It's exquisite. Oh, darling, it's beautiful." Her tone was breathless and she seemed mesmerized.

  Leah swelled with pleasure and felt tears start in her eyes. She trusted Constance's judgment and it touched her that Constance had lost her hard-boiled composure.

  "The silver work—you should have been a metallurgist."

  "It's aluminum with silver. I still have more to solder into place and then finishing, of course."

  "There's something about the color. Women will go ape for these colors. You've always stuck with primaries before... The snow... How did you..." Constance began shaking her head. "Show me more."

  Leah gave Constance all the time she wanted with each canvas. Each one was as tall as Leah, and Constance studied every inch.

  "If ever I wanted to keep something for the gallery, it would be this. You've obviously been working some long hours. But we're going to make a tidy fortune with these, darling."

  Leah sighed. "I always feel sad about selling them. But that's life."

  Constance turned from After the Moon. "I'm going to feel sad too. But as you say..." Her gaze fell on the covered easel. "What are you working on now?"

  Leah tried to be nonchalant. "Just an experiment. I'm not ready to show it." She didn't want Constance to see the painting. She wasn't sure she wanted anyone to see it — especially Jackie.

  For a moment, it seemed as though Constance would protest, but then she smiled indulgently. "If the surprise is as good as the ones I've seen, I can wait." She put her hands on her hips and regarded Leah with an open, appreciative smile. "You're better than ever, sweets."

  Leah found herself responding to Constance's openness. "Thanks. So are you."

  Constance made a noise of disbelief. "Is that a compliment? Is the reticent, hard-to-pin-down Lee Beck complimenting little ol' me?"

  "I won't do it again if it bothers you so much," Leah said with a laugh.

  "That's okay. I can handle it. So, are you inviting me to dinner?"

  "If you stay that late, you may as well stay the night," Leah said slowly. She swallowed as Constance radiated happiness at the idea. She'd never seen the sophisticated, elegant Constance so open about what she felt. But then, she hadn’t seen Constance for almost two years.

  "Darling, you couldn't drive me away."

  They settled in front of the Franklin stove after a simple dinner of bread and spaghetti. Constance was full of all the latest gossip — who had received grants and who hadn't. Who was sleeping around and who wasn't. Who had been the rage of the fall gallery shows and who hadn't. Constance knew everyone and everything about the art world. The Reardon Gallery was San Francisco's leading art house, and she had a dozen important art world discoveries to her credit, one of whom was Lee Beck.

  Leah nonchalantly brought up the subject of Jellica Frakes. Not that she thought Constance even knew that Jellica had a daughter.

  "She's getting the Fulvia Award this year. The ceremony's next weekend, I think. For her Weavers series."

  The series that Jackie had mentioned. "Where's that on display?"

  "It's on tour. London right now, I think. It'll be at MOMA in the city sometime next March, I think. Since when are you a Jellica fan?"

  "Her daughter was my unexpected houseguest," Leah admitted.

  "If she's anything like her mother... my, my. I met Jellica once and nearly died. She's gorgeous—in an Eleanor Roosevelt sort of way. I always wondered why her students mentioned her with such — not awe. Respect and high regard. And fondness. She was definitely handsome." Constance grimaced. "Happily married to a Canadian ambassador from a monied Quebec family. Too bad. Whenever anyone tells me they don't like her work I always probe at why and sure enough, it's envy."

  "Jackie's not in the least like Eleanor Roosevelt," Leah said with a smile. "She's too... it's hard to describe. Her features are all ordinary, but she has expressive eyes. A deep green, almost dark gray. The way they fit is not pretty, but pleasing. Maybe her mouth is too wide. I sketched her and tried to figure it out."

  Constance regarded her warily. "You're trying too hard to make it seem like it didn't matter, but she really shook you, didn't she?"

  Leah nodded. "I should have known I couldn't lie to you. Yeah, she shook me. But like mother, like daughter. She's straight and in a relationship." Her nose should grow for that lie, she thought. No one who said Yes the way Jackie had could be satisfied with her relationship.

  "Well, that's good," Constance said, her pale green eyes looking into Leah's. "Maybe there's room for me in your life now."

  Leah blushed. "I'm starting to feel like a deer and you're the hunter."

  "You're hardly defenseless, sweets. And I can't be coy with you. I want you too much." Constance's voice caught as though she was startled by the frankness of her admission.

  Leah didn't know quite what to say. "You know, I've never really considered being with you."

  Constance laughed with a hint of bitterness. "Sharla was always there. God, how you loved that woman. It made me crazy. There was never any room for anyone else. I always felt as though you wouldn't even let yourself like me."

  The mention of Sharla didn't bring its usual stabbing pain. Leah sighed. Since Jackie had come and gone in her life, it hadn't. "I won't apologize for loving Sharla."

  Constance turned sharply toward Leah. "Don't. I'd think less of you if you did. Just get on with your life. I'm offering..." She held out her hand and Leah slowly took it. "At least let me be your friend."

  "You want more than that."

  "Yes, but friendship is a start. It's more than I've had."

  Leah considered the fair, delicate hand she held. Constance's fingers were long and slender, her nails trimmed and polished, her palm smooth and soft. "I can't offer you anything more," she said slowly. I'm a fool to keep thinking of Jackie, she thought. A fool to keep wanting her.

  Constance's voice was tremulous. "Can you at least offer me your bed for the night?" Leah was amazed, awed even, by Constance's emotion. "No strings. I understand." She tightened her grip on Leah's hand.

  In answer, Leah slowly kissed Constance's palm. She
felt Constance shiver in response and her own body prickled with sensual awareness. "Let's go upstairs," she said quietly.

  Constance broke the tense mood at the foot of the ladder. 'I thought you said stairs."

  Leah laughed. "Sorry. Think you can make it?"

  Constance gave her a gamin grin. "If the climb will be worth the effort."

  "Tell me tomorrow," Leah said, starting her climb with a laugh. She was glad that the mood had become a little less intense. As she pulled back the covers and switched on the electric blanket, she felt a wave of misgivings. Doing this wasn't fair to Constance.

  Then Constance was sinking onto the bed and pulling Leah after her. "Kiss me."

  It wasn't hard to obey the husky command.

  Constance met her kiss eagerly, capturing and holding Leah's face. "You taste like I thought you would," she said. "Very nice."

  Leah straddled Constance's waist and gave herself up to being explored. Constance's hands swept up Leah's ribs, then slid around her back, pulling Leah's black turtleneck out of her jeans. Leah felt a jolt of passion when Constance's fingertips brushed her bare back and she moaned, lowering her mouth to Constance's again.

  A deep sigh rippled through Constance's body. Leah knelt over her, her skin chilling as Constance pulled Leah's turtleneck and undershirt over her head, then brought her warm hands back to Leah's shoulders. She stared up at Leah from the bed, her face framed by the pale gold of her hair. She bit her lower lip as her hands slid down and gently cupped Leah's breasts.

  Every nerve in Leah's body goosepimpled. Her breasts felt swollen and she thrust them forward into Constance's hands.

  Constance licked her lips and drew her breath in deeply. Her hands moved to the buttons of Leah's jeans, fumbling slightly with each until they were all undone. Her hands slid under the waistband and pushed the clothing down. She sat up, pushing Leah back until she could sit up. Then slid her hand unerringly to the center of Leah's passion.