it’s not like he’s here alone. I look at the beautiful blonde’s profile and frown.
When the lights go up for intermission, the two get up and head toward the lobby exit nearest them. I watch his retreating back with longing. He disappears without looking back.
The four of us head for the lobby in the other direction. Sam and Chloe are consigned to wait in the long line for the ladies room. I made a point to use the restroom when we first got here so I linger in the hall. Jack is in and out of the men’s room in a flash—why are men’s lines always so much shorter?—and brings me a flute of champagne.
“My lady,” he says, toasting me and giving me quite a dashing grin.
I smile at him, wondering not for the first time what kind of person Jack will be if he ever decides to grow up.
“You look so handsome in your suit, Jack,” I say in a sisterly tone, taking a sip of my champagne and letting it fizz through my body. I’m a bit frazzled from the whole thing with the professor and I’m finding Jack’s presence a comfort. He’s the big brother I’ve always wanted.
“I should’ve worn a tux, standing next to you. You look like a queen, Isabella.”
I reward his compliment with a smile, but I’m thinking about the beautiful blonde. I fear she’s queen for the night.
God, I’m pitiful. I’m tempted to confess my stupidity to Jack so he can talk me out of it. Instead I ask him to tell me how he found his new job.
While listening to his story, I take another sip. Over the rim of my raised glass, just down the hall, I see Shane Brooks watching me.
And he’s alone.
He doesn’t seem to know I’ve spotted him, for his eyes are traveling down the length of my body, wrapped in form-fitting velvet, and back up again. He looks hungry, and slightly stunned.
I slowly lower my glass, granting him full view of my cleavage, which he lingers on for a moment before finally, slowly, meeting my eyes.
This time neither one of us look away.
One heartbeat. Two.
I lose count as the moment lingers on.
“Ah!” Jack says suddenly, snapping me out of my trance. “Here comes our brigade.”
I glance toward the ladies room exit to see Chloe and Ashley emerge.
Jack offers me his arm and I take it automatically, my eyes darting back to Professor Brooks, who’s still watching me.
A soft ding sounds through the hall, indicating we have only two minutes remaining of the intermission.
“Fair ladies,” Jack says, putting on a grand persona, “may I escort you back to your seats?”
“Only if I can have the rest of your champagne,” Sam says, taking Jack’s glass and downing it. He smiles easily, leading us away.
Still gripping Jack’s arm, I glance back over my shoulder.
Shane Brooks is watching my every move.
I’ve decided women must have a primitive instinct that tells us when to chase, and when to be chased.
Whereas I couldn’t keep myself from looking at Shane Brooks during the first half of the evening, no matter how hard I tried, I’ve now gone to the other extreme. We’re almost to the end of the program and I haven’t glanced at him once.
Maybe it’s because I have a sense that he’s watching me. I can feel it.
Or maybe it’s all in my head.
Either way, the idea gives me a strangely calm sort of exhilaration. I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts.
When Ashley finally comes on stage. I break into a huge smile and enthusiastic applause. She’s wearing a black, beaded dress with a full skirt that reaches the floor. Her long blonde hair is braid free, coming to her waist in gentle, elegant curls.
She smiles, bows elegantly, and settles herself on the bench. When her fingers go to the piano and she sounds the first note, she doesn’t merely play. She coaxes pure music out of the keys like an enchantress working her wonders.
It is always this moment, when our Ashley first begins to play, that I am in awe to have such a friend.
Tonight’s piece begins with a haunting melody that
When the lights go up for intermission, the two get up and head toward the lobby exit nearest them. I watch his retreating back with longing. He disappears without looking back.
The four of us head for the lobby in the other direction. Sam and Chloe are consigned to wait in the long line for the ladies room. I made a point to use the restroom when we first got here so I linger in the hall. Jack is in and out of the men’s room in a flash—why are men’s lines always so much shorter?—and brings me a flute of champagne.
“My lady,” he says, toasting me and giving me quite a dashing grin.
I smile at him, wondering not for the first time what kind of person Jack will be if he ever decides to grow up.
“You look so handsome in your suit, Jack,” I say in a sisterly tone, taking a sip of my champagne and letting it fizz through my body. I’m a bit frazzled from the whole thing with the professor and I’m finding Jack’s presence a comfort. He’s the big brother I’ve always wanted.
“I should’ve worn a tux, standing next to you. You look like a queen, Isabella.”
I reward his compliment with a smile, but I’m thinking about the beautiful blonde. I fear she’s queen for the night.
God, I’m pitiful. I’m tempted to confess my stupidity to Jack so he can talk me out of it. Instead I ask him to tell me how he found his new job.
While listening to his story, I take another sip. Over the rim of my raised glass, just down the hall, I see Shane Brooks watching me.
And he’s alone.
He doesn’t seem to know I’ve spotted him, for his eyes are traveling down the length of my body, wrapped in form-fitting velvet, and back up again. He looks hungry, and slightly stunned.
I slowly lower my glass, granting him full view of my cleavage, which he lingers on for a moment before finally, slowly, meeting my eyes.
This time neither one of us look away.
One heartbeat. Two.
I lose count as the moment lingers on.
“Ah!” Jack says suddenly, snapping me out of my trance. “Here comes our brigade.”
I glance toward the ladies room exit to see Chloe and Ashley emerge.
Jack offers me his arm and I take it automatically, my eyes darting back to Professor Brooks, who’s still watching me.
A soft ding sounds through the hall, indicating we have only two minutes remaining of the intermission.
“Fair ladies,” Jack says, putting on a grand persona, “may I escort you back to your seats?”
“Only if I can have the rest of your champagne,” Sam says, taking Jack’s glass and downing it. He smiles easily, leading us away.
Still gripping Jack’s arm, I glance back over my shoulder.
Shane Brooks is watching my every move.
I’ve decided women must have a primitive instinct that tells us when to chase, and when to be chased.
Whereas I couldn’t keep myself from looking at Shane Brooks during the first half of the evening, no matter how hard I tried, I’ve now gone to the other extreme. We’re almost to the end of the program and I haven’t glanced at him once.
Maybe it’s because I have a sense that he’s watching me. I can feel it.
Or maybe it’s all in my head.
Either way, the idea gives me a strangely calm sort of exhilaration. I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts.
When Ashley finally comes on stage. I break into a huge smile and enthusiastic applause. She’s wearing a black, beaded dress with a full skirt that reaches the floor. Her long blonde hair is braid free, coming to her waist in gentle, elegant curls.
She smiles, bows elegantly, and settles herself on the bench. When her fingers go to the piano and she sounds the first note, she doesn’t merely play. She coaxes pure music out of the keys like an enchantress working her wonders.
It is always this moment, when our Ashley first begins to play, that I am in awe to have such a friend.
Tonight’s piece begins with a haunting melody that
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