Johnnie fingered the sweat on her glass. Johnnie knew she had felt something. But saying so would only cause more angst between them, something Johnnie knew they were both trying to downplay. “All I need to do is see your face. Hear your voice and I’m good.”
The woman swallowed, and she fingered her necklace, a gesture Johnnie was beginning to recognize as nerves.
“I don’t think I should charge you anymore.”
“But it’s still your time. You’re still helping me. So, yes I’m paying you.”
“Then we need to get you working.”
“I am. And according to my friend Jim, those paintings of you could be wildly popular.”
“I’m not sure what to say.”
“Or how to feel?” Johnnie smiled. “Don’t worry. I told him no way.”
She blinked. “Why?”
“Because they are private, personal. And they are of you. Wouldn’t it make you uncomfortable?”
She stirred her coffee. “Johnnie, when I was younger, I modeled.”
“Oh.”
“So no, I don’t mind. We are here for your success after all.”
Johnnie sat back against the booth. The paintings meant so much to her. Could she ever let them go?
“You seem disappointed.”
“No, I’m just…I don’t know. I feel possessive of them.”
The woman pegged her with her eyes. She read into the words, knew what they meant, though she didn’t say it.
“Do what’s best for you.”
“I’m not used to doing that.” She sighed and looked away.
“It’s time to start.”
“It makes me feel selfish. Like I’m not doing the right thing.”
“Really?” She sipped her coffee, looking intrigued.
“Care to tell me why?”
Johnnie squirmed a little.
“You’re uncomfortable.”
Johnnie nodded. “I don’t like bringing up the past. I do better by just going forward.”
“That’s understandable. So how can I help you do that? What can I do to help make your future better?”
Johnnie half grinned. “Right, because we both know you can’t keep arousing me forever.”
She glanced out the window, thinking that possibility wouldn’t be half bad, but then she pushed it from her mind.
“At some point in your life you learned it was safer for you to agree with people, to please them. And it sounds like you still do it to some degree.”
Johnnie shrugged. “You’re right.”
“You live alone?”
“Yes.”
“Do you get out much?”
Johnnie shifted and pushed the empty iced tea glass away. When she found nothing to distract her hands, she played with her straw wrapper.
“I like to stay home.”
The woman sipped her coffee. She gave her a few moments before pressing her. “Why?”
“It’s just what I prefer.”
“To be alone?”
“To be safe.”
The woman paused, holding her mug near her lips. She lowered it carefully instead of taking another sip.
“Do you have people over to your home? Friends?”
Johnnie wasn’t able to hold her eyes. She was becoming embarrassed. She knew her life wasn’t typical. She knew people didn’t understand.
“I have one good friend who comes over.”
“And do you go out with friends anywhere?”
Johnnie sighed in frustration. “Sometimes.”
“Do you have fun when you do that?”
“Not really.”
“Because you don’t feel safe?”
Johnnie couldn’t handle her concerned look. She didn’t want her to know these things. She already knew too much.
“Johnnie?”
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
She reached across the table to hold her hand but stopped. Johnnie somehow felt it anyway, so warm, so caring, and her eyes were full of care and concern. Johnnie didn’t want that. She couldn’t count on people to care. They always said they did, but they didn’t, not when it counted.
“Why does it make you uncomfortable? Do you not feel safe right now?”
Johnnie swallowed against a burning throat. “I don’t want you to know these things. I don’t want anyone to know.”
The woman seemed to think for a moment. “You’re afraid of what I might think. That maybe I will reject you.”
Johnnie’s heart pounded with fight or flight. She couldn’t run because the woman needed a ride. No, she’d have to sit and take it.
“Johnnie, I’m not going to hurt you. Or think any less of you.”
“You can’t possibly know that.”
“It would take trust.”
Johnnie waved off the waitress, no longer thirsty. The woman did the same with her coffee.
“That is something I do not have,” Johnnie said.
“Oh, but you do. You’re already trusting me. Little by little.”
Johnnie reached back for her wallet and set a few bills on the table. The woman dug in her purse and did the same. Johnnie slid from the booth and politely waited for the woman to walk in front of her. She was dressed more casually today. Tan linen pants and flowy blue linen shirt. She looked like she belonged on an island, holding hands with a lover as the ocean lapped at her feet.
Johnnie wished for an instant she could be that lover, but thinking such things was only torture.
They climbed into the truck and rode in silence. The woman looked out the window and pressed her dark hair behind her ear. Johnnie noted the small diamond stud and another smaller one nestled in her upper ear. The image stirred her just as nearly everything with the woman did.
“This is a nice truck,” she eventually said, looking over at Johnnie. Her eyes settled on her hands.
“Thanks.”
“I’ve been thinking about getting one.”
Johnnie laughed. “Really?”
“Something funny about that?”
Johnnie pressed her mouth closed. “No, nothing at all.”
“A woman like me can have a truck.”
“You’re absolutely right.”
She laughed. “You’re stereotyping me.”
“Nope, not at all.”
They pulled back into the office complex, and Johnnie parked next to the woman’s black Audi.
“I don’t think Audi makes a truck,” Johnnie said, sliding out of the truck with a smile.
The woman rounded the truck. “Very funny.”
Johnnie sank her hands into her pockets as they stood near the front entrance.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
Johnnie must’ve looked surprised because the woman smiled.
Flustered, Johnnie unlocked the door and held it for her. Then she followed her inside and offered her a drink, which she declined. Instead, she set her purse on the counter and eased onto a stool.
“Johnnie?”
Johnnie turned from the easels. “Yes.”
“I want you to be able to trust me.”
Johnnie heated at the look the woman was giving her. She began slowly unbuttoning her shirt.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m sharing myself with you. I want you to touch me.”
“What?” Johnnie looked away, heartbeat in her throat.
“Can you paint right now?”
Johnnie breathed deeply. “I don’t know.”
“I want you to. I want you to touch me by painting me.”
She stopped with the buttons and reached up and unhooked her lacy bra and draped it over her purse. Then she opened the shirt just wide enough to show the weight of her breasts without showing her nipples.
Her necklace reflected in the incoming stream of sunlight. Johnnie forced herself to breathe. She couldn’t take her eyes off her. Her skin was smooth, like cream, save for a beauty mark near her navel.
“Come here,” she said, voice strong.
Johnnie walked slowly toward her, feeling like she was going to float right up off the floor. She closed her eyes, wondering if she would actually reach her.