She grinned as she pushed the talk button. “Hey, Willa, do you feel naked without your phone?”
“Hello? Millie?”
Her grin froze. “Jon!” There was an awkward silence “This is Willa’s cell. She’s not here. She accidentally left it with me last night.”
“She told me,” he said. “Is it okay that I called you?”
“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Another silence. She was aware she was holding her breath. She was going to strangle Willa Beth. Why did her dramas always involve Max and why did they have such major complications?
“I was wondering if I could bring you some lunch. I happen to be in the neighborhood and I have a picnic lunch for two in my possession.”
She gritted her teeth. She was covered with paint and the evidence of her work was all around her loft.
“Or if you’ve already eaten I could just drop by for a visit.”
“No! No, I haven’t eaten but...” She squeezed her eyes together and took a deep breath. “Everything’s a mess. Can I meet you somewhere?”
“Sure. It’s a beautiful day. We could share this repast in the park.”
“Memorial Park? Great. I’ll meet you by the driving range.” She hung up and said a few choice words. In the next breath she’d torn off her cloths, scrubbed away all traces of paint and redressed in reasonably new jeans and a pale grey Henley knit. She scuffed into her Birkenstocks and raced out the door. She ran down the stairs to a loft on the second floor and beat on the worn green metal door.
“It’s open.” The voice was deep and melodic and came from the back of the loft. Sparks flew from the tip of a welding torch attaching a piece of metal to a sculpture. The speaker was hidden under protective garb.
“Sherman, can I borrow your car? It’s very important. I’ll put in some gas.” She clasped her hands together. “Please, please, please. I’ll only need it for a little while.”
“Chill, Babe. The keys are on that hook beside the door. Help yourself.” The speaker was a tall African-American man with dreads. “Wha’zup?”
“Can’t talk. I’m late. Thanks,” she yelled as she ran down the hall with the keys.
When she got under way, she peeled out of the parking lot and into heavy Houston traffic. She turned onto the 610 Loop, almost hyperventilating as the cars in her lane crept to a stop. Finally, she was able to crawl onto the exit ramp at Post Oak. Turning into Memorial Park, the large green area central to the city, she searched for a parking space close to the driving range. Cars lined both sides of the street. The park was filled with joggers, walkers, tennis players and golfers.
She passed the driving range and grabbed the next available space in which to demonstrate her lack of talent in the parallel parking event.
“Close enough!” Max threw it into park and turned off the ignition. She took off at a run and slowed when she heard Willa’s voice cautioning her not to appear too eager. She was starting to perspire and mopped at her forehead with her sleeve.
She spotted Jon standing under an old oak with wide stretched branches. He looked unflappably cool and crisp with a smile spreading across his face the moment he saw her. She experienced a corresponding fluttery feeling in her stomach when she looked at him.
“Millie! I’m so glad you could make it.” He held out his hand to her.
She shivered in spite of the warm temperature. He was kissing the hand she’d just washed in turpentine. She’d rinsed well and hoped the lingering aroma didn’t give her away.
“You look lovely. Let’s choose a spot, shall we?” He picked up a thermal zipper bag and led the way to the middle of a grassy area. He spread a blanket under another oak a safe distance from the driving range. They sat down and Jon opened the bag.
“I hope you like this. I picked it up at a deli. I have no domestic tendencies at all.” Handing her a boxed lunch, he looked more like a puppy seeking approval for fetching the stick than a slick designer.
She opened the carton and unwrapped a turkey and provolone sandwich.
“Would you like to trade? This one’s ham and Swiss on a wheat roll.” Jon watched her intently, offering the other box for her approval.
“No, this is fine.” She felt her heart rate slowing down and took a deep breath before biting into the sandwich.
It came as a surprise to her when she realized he was also nervous. That knowledge gave her a little surge of confidence.
His big brown eyes seemed to be feasting on her. “What have you been doing today?” he asked.
“Painting.” She gritted her teeth and gave herself a mental head slap. Why don’t I ever put my brain in gear before opening my great big mouth? Willa would kill her for letting the cat out of the bag too soon.
“You’re also an artist? I should have known you’d be a painter. Have I seen any of your work?” He smiled at her encouragingly.
“Not that kind of painter,” she said. “I’m just trying to spruce up the place.”
“Perhaps I could give you some help with that. I’m a designer, after all. Sometimes large open spaces can be quite daunting.”
“Oh, I’m not daunted.” She swallowed her bite before going on. “I have to work around Max’s painting schedule. I can’t stand in the way of all that artistic genius.”
“About that,” he said. “Am I ever going to meet this guy? Is he a recluse, or something?”
She grinned at him. “Yeah, something like that. I’m sure you’ll meet Max at the opening.”
“Are you and he, uh...” Jon was gazing at her intently, his sandwich all but forgotten in his hand. “I mean, you and Max live together. Are the two of you involved?”
She chewed her food thoughtfully. Several possible responses came to mind. She could tell him Max was gay or that he was her brother or smile knowingly and say he was a tireless love machine. “We’re friends. Good friends.”
“Oh,” A slight frown appeared on his face. He looked like he was going to ask another question.
“Look!” She diverted him by pointing to a branch of the tree overhead. “A mockingbird. I’ll bet he wants to steal a bite of lunch.”
He laughed. “Millie, you’re so spontaneous and unsophisticated. I can’t imagine that many women would muster up so much enthusiasm for the Texas State bird.”
Not that many women would be in the spot I’m in. “I love birds. I used to draw them with colored pencils when I was a kid. I had a whole sketchbook filled with them.” She tried to stuff a big bite in her mouth to preclude further conversation.
He leaned back on the blanket, propping himself on one elbow, all the while never taking his eyes off her. “So you’re a birdwatcher? I like to watch them, too. We’re on the flight path for many North American migratory birds.”
“I think I knew that.” She smiled at him. He might not be such a waste of skin after all.
“What else do you like, Millie? What are your interests?” He smiled and sipped his soda.
“I like different kinds of music,” she said. “I listen to everything from Madonna to Mozart. I like reggae and zydeco and lots of old-time rock and roll.”
“That’s good to know. What do you do all day at the loft while Max is painting? Besides interior decoration, I mean.” His eyes twinkled mischievously.
“Right. The place is so decorated.” She laughed out loud.
His expression became serious. “If I were Max I’d be painting you.”
She tossed her head back and laughed heartily. “Once was enough,” she said. “I stay busy.”
“That sounds domestic.”
“Not I,” she hooted. “I washed out of Home Ec class. I can barely manage to keep myself alive.”
“And Max? Does he have to forage for himself or do you take care of him?”
“We’re surviving.” She tore the remnants of her bread into small bits and tossed them into the grass. A few moments later the curious mockingbird swooped down from his branch to investigate the offering.
“I see you got him,” he said. “You knew he’d be plucky enough to come right down here. They’re brazen.”
“I like brazen creatures. Head on. No hidden agenda.” She glanced at him with a dimpled smile.
“Me too. Do you want to have dinner with me on Friday night? Maybe we could go somewhere with music and dance a little.” He gathered the wrappers and replaced them in his bag. He gazed at her expectantly.
She was taken aback, but she’d asked for directness. “I guess so. I really have to go now.” She pushed up to a standing position and leaned down to pick up her debris. When she turned around Jon was on his feet and standing way too close. “Thanks for lunch,” she breathed. “I enjoyed being with you.”
He took the wrapping from her hand, holding her ensnared for a moment. “Anytime.” His dark eyes held hers, saying much more than she could handle.
“I-I’ll see you.” She turned away from the magnetic draw pulling her into a dangerous moving current. She sprinted back to Sherman’s vehicle, glad she’d left the windows open.
The sun baked down on the metal, creating a mobile oven effect. She was grateful the torn seats were cloth as she arranged herself inside and cranked up the engine.
As soon as she got the car in motion, the heated air stirred enough to lift her hair. The faster she drove the better she felt. She smiled, thinking of Jon.
Time to return to the painting factory.
She tried not to think about her upcoming date with Jon Donnell. It was a mistake. A big mistake. She knew he’d make more innocent inquiries about the invisible Max. And the more lies she told the more uncomfortable she became.
How had this gotten so far off base? She returned to the loft and got right back to work.
As she painted and stacked her new works around her studio, she tried to ignore her rising panic.
Willa screamed when she heard the news. “Omigod! You went on a picnic with Jon. He’s really into you.”
“So it seems. Sit down,” Max ordered. “I’m very tired of abstracts.” She sketched a few strokes and daubed her brush onto her palette. In a few minutes she captured a likeness of Willa that showed her slender grace and underlying strength. “Okay, you can move.”
“Thanks. I was getting stiff.” Willa came to stand beside her. She stepped back and gazed at her image on the canvas. “Wow, Max. You’re amazing. I wish I had just a small dab of your talent. I’d paint all the time.”
“And then what would you do?” Max laughed. “You’d have to wear old clothes because you couldn’t paint dressed like that. You wouldn’t be Willa.”
“I thought so.” Max made rapid brush strokes, adding color and blending in the background.
“So, how was your lunch with Jon?”
Willa made a derisive snorting noise. “It was mostly your own fault.” Willa pointed her slender finger at Max. “You didn’t correct him when he assumed that Max Foster was a man and then I had to lie to him when he announced that he was going to give you a one-man show, you man of vision you.
Willa shrugged. “He made a mistake and we then both made a mistake. Now it’s too late. We’ve compounded the lie. It’s bigger than Dallas.”
“Is it?”
Willa nodded her head vigorously. “Yep. The boat has sailed.”
She let out a heavy sigh. “No one likes to be deceived. I never thought I’d see him again. I thought he’d go back to being an anonymous designer, commissioning future paintings through you. I didn’t know we’d get involved.”
“And you don’t hate him anymore?”
“I never hated Jon.” She cleared her suddenly husky throat. “I just...”
“You said he was a pretty boy and he might be gay.”
“He is a pretty boy. Have you ever been swallowed up by those big brown eyes? He’s gorgeous and he never sweats, but I’ve changed my mind about the gayness.”
“We have a dinner date on Friday.” She smiled as Willa threw herself onto the futon and giggled into the duvet. “Is it so hard to believe that someone would find me attractive and want to spend time with me? Am I so lacking in appeal?”
“Don’t be silly. You know you’re hot, but your favorite word is no. I can’t believe you said yes.”
She sniffed. “Well, I said yes and I’ve been working too hard to regret it.” She set the portrait aside and returned the previous canvas to the easel. “Back to the real world.”
“Be careful, Max,” Willa cautioned. “I think Jon is a whole lot more man than you give him credit for. He’s at the top of the food chain in the Houston design world. His stamp of approval means a lot around here. And if he black-balled you, you would be officially dead in the art world. You could always become a greeter at Wal-Mart, but you’d never sell another painting in this city. Promise me you won’t alienate him when we’re on the brink of something big.”
“I promise. I’m going to have dinner with him and maybe go dancing.” Max shot her a glance. “I’ll wear a dress...and underwear.”
Willa exhaled heavily. “Just be careful.”