have left some room for waffling. His mind was entirely clear. Lizard felt something inside start to
bleed. “You mean like a date?”
“Yeah.”
She clutched her burger bag, suddenly very unhungry—and
prayed for the words to lift her out of hell. “I can’t. You’re my client.”
“I’m pretty sure there’s a statute of limitations on that
stuff.” He turned to walk again,
heading toward her office. “But
we’re probably getting hooked up again work-wise with the maps, so yeah, it
would be tangled.”
His eyes asked the question. Did she care?
She should. It
should be a rule. A hulking big
one with no get-out-of-jail-free card. It was probably in one of those stupid realtor courses she’d taken.
His fingers slid into hers. “I’d like you to come.”
Lizard tried to stay on her feet as her foundations shook. And shuddered as a tiny sliver of hope
tried to run straight from his fingers into her belly.
Then she took a deep breath. Lizard Monroe wasn’t stupid anymore. “I can’t.” She squeezed his fingers once—a kind of
good-bye—and then choked as insanity grabbed her throat and pushed out
two more words. “Not yet.”
Her clomping steps, matched to his, were all that broke the
silence. Then he squeezed her
fingers back. “Okay. Let me know when you are. I’ll email you the web thing.”
She watched him stroll away down the sidewalk, mind pummeled by
wordless, confused torment. And
then looked down at the totally mangled burger bag in her hands.
Crap. Just. Crap.
~ ~ ~
Elsie beamed into Vero’s front hallway, holding her new guitar
tightly.
“That’s a lovely instrument, my dear.” Vero emerged from the kitchen, two glasses of iced tea in
her hands. “I didn’t know you
played.”
“I don’t.” Elsie
grinned, feeling the sunbeams dancing in her belly. “Or, I didn’t . Nat wants to do a special yoga workshop
and we were brainstorming and wanted some live music and she sent me off to
talk to this guy she knows, who plays, but also teaches guitar, and…” She stopped, breathless, and
giggled. “Sorry, I guess I’m a bit
excited.”
“It’s good breath control.” Vero smiled and stepped into the music room. “Opera is often written in that state
of tripping excitement. I used to
think perhaps that was why the composers never gave us enough opportunities to
breathe.”
It was hard to imagine Vero needing more air. Elsie was well aware she took three
breaths to Vero’s one when they sang together.
Vero set down the iced tea and reached for the guitar, strumming
lightly. “It has a lovely
tone. You’re going to learn to
play, then?” She picked out a
light and simple melody.
Elsie sighed, a little jealous. It had taken her ten minutes just to learn how to finger her
first chord. “I’m going to try.
Hector says it won’t take long to learn to play easy accompaniments when I
sing.”
“Ah.” Vero’s eyes
twinkled as she handed back the guitar. “Found yourself a sexy Latin guitar teacher, have you?”
Elsie blinked. Hector was white-haired and rotund and had pictures of his family taped
to the side of his guitar. “Well,
he plays beautifully, but he’s married with eleven grandchildren.” She had learned most of their names.
“Old can still be sexy, my dear, but I take your point.” Vero sat down at the piano,
chuckling. “In that case, let’s
learn a simple melody today. I’ll
write down the chord progression to take to your teacher.”
It might be fun to have sexy in her life. Elsie stroked the neck of her guitar
and frowned, feeling disloyal to the warm and comfortable Hector.
“Ah, sweet girl. I
didn’t mean to make you feel less than happy.” Vero stood up again and walked over to a corner closet,
emerging with a guitar decked out in the sheen of age and long use.
bleed. “You mean like a date?”
“Yeah.”
She clutched her burger bag, suddenly very unhungry—and
prayed for the words to lift her out of hell. “I can’t. You’re my client.”
“I’m pretty sure there’s a statute of limitations on that
stuff.” He turned to walk again,
heading toward her office. “But
we’re probably getting hooked up again work-wise with the maps, so yeah, it
would be tangled.”
His eyes asked the question. Did she care?
She should. It
should be a rule. A hulking big
one with no get-out-of-jail-free card. It was probably in one of those stupid realtor courses she’d taken.
His fingers slid into hers. “I’d like you to come.”
Lizard tried to stay on her feet as her foundations shook. And shuddered as a tiny sliver of hope
tried to run straight from his fingers into her belly.
Then she took a deep breath. Lizard Monroe wasn’t stupid anymore. “I can’t.” She squeezed his fingers once—a kind of
good-bye—and then choked as insanity grabbed her throat and pushed out
two more words. “Not yet.”
Her clomping steps, matched to his, were all that broke the
silence. Then he squeezed her
fingers back. “Okay. Let me know when you are. I’ll email you the web thing.”
She watched him stroll away down the sidewalk, mind pummeled by
wordless, confused torment. And
then looked down at the totally mangled burger bag in her hands.
Crap. Just. Crap.
~ ~ ~
Elsie beamed into Vero’s front hallway, holding her new guitar
tightly.
“That’s a lovely instrument, my dear.” Vero emerged from the kitchen, two glasses of iced tea in
her hands. “I didn’t know you
played.”
“I don’t.” Elsie
grinned, feeling the sunbeams dancing in her belly. “Or, I didn’t . Nat wants to do a special yoga workshop
and we were brainstorming and wanted some live music and she sent me off to
talk to this guy she knows, who plays, but also teaches guitar, and…” She stopped, breathless, and
giggled. “Sorry, I guess I’m a bit
excited.”
“It’s good breath control.” Vero smiled and stepped into the music room. “Opera is often written in that state
of tripping excitement. I used to
think perhaps that was why the composers never gave us enough opportunities to
breathe.”
It was hard to imagine Vero needing more air. Elsie was well aware she took three
breaths to Vero’s one when they sang together.
Vero set down the iced tea and reached for the guitar, strumming
lightly. “It has a lovely
tone. You’re going to learn to
play, then?” She picked out a
light and simple melody.
Elsie sighed, a little jealous. It had taken her ten minutes just to learn how to finger her
first chord. “I’m going to try.
Hector says it won’t take long to learn to play easy accompaniments when I
sing.”
“Ah.” Vero’s eyes
twinkled as she handed back the guitar. “Found yourself a sexy Latin guitar teacher, have you?”
Elsie blinked. Hector was white-haired and rotund and had pictures of his family taped
to the side of his guitar. “Well,
he plays beautifully, but he’s married with eleven grandchildren.” She had learned most of their names.
“Old can still be sexy, my dear, but I take your point.” Vero sat down at the piano,
chuckling. “In that case, let’s
learn a simple melody today. I’ll
write down the chord progression to take to your teacher.”
It might be fun to have sexy in her life. Elsie stroked the neck of her guitar
and frowned, feeling disloyal to the warm and comfortable Hector.
“Ah, sweet girl. I
didn’t mean to make you feel less than happy.” Vero stood up again and walked over to a corner closet,
emerging with a guitar decked out in the sheen of age and long use.
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