earth tones and a large whimsical abstract painting.
Dylan returned with ice-filled crystal tumblers, the yellow drink glowing golden in the warmly lit room. They took sips, watching each other, the ice tinkling merrily. She couldn’t stop grinning. The vodka warmed her stomach, Dylan’s gaze the rest of her.
“Your home is lovely,” she finally said, turning to survey the room again. Are those paintings originals?”
“Yes. Done by local artists.”
“Supporting the community, huh? Being town manager and all?”
“Wherever I can, sure.” He glanced at her, hesitated, then spoke. “Actually I have my eye on a state grant to establish a co-op gallery, complete with studios. We’ve got quite a few talented artists in town.”
“You’re taking the job seriously, that’s obvious,” she said. “So did you decorate the house or did, uh, your ex-wife?” She felt a nasty twinge. Jealousy, of all things.
She’d felt it back then, too, and it had been horrible. Secretly she’d hoped he would come to NAU sophomore year as he’d promised. Instead he’d gotten engaged. Within a year he’d replaced her with someone he wanted to spend his life with, not just college.
“Me. I bought this place three years ago. Candee and I divorced way back. Eight years.” He glanced away.
“Sore subject?” She shouldn’t be prying, but she couldn’t stop herself.
“Not really. We managed to stay friends.”
“Looked that way at the funeral.” In fact, she thought she’d caught a flash of longing in Candee’s eyes when they’d mouthed their goodbyes. “Friends with benefits?” she teased. What is wrong with you?
Dylan colored.
“Look how red you are. You do sleep with her.” She did not want to know that. Thinking of him making love to Candee, looking at her the way he’d looked at Tara, as if she were the most important thing in his life.
“Not in a while. It’s not a good idea.” He shook his head, clearly embarrassed.
“Maybe not.” Why not? Did one of them want to get back together? Probably Candee. None of her business. If she asked more questions she’d sound as gossipy as the worst Whartonite.
“Anyway, what about you?” he asked, clearly wanting to change the subject. “I would have heard if you’d gotten married. Did you ever come close?”
“Not yet, no. Building a business is tough on the social life. I travel a lot, so there’s that...” That sounded lame. “I’ve dated, had boyfriends. Nothing too heavy. When the time is right...” And when would that be?
“That makes sense.” He looked down at his feet. Did he feel sorry for her? God, no. “I bought a condo,” she blurted, as if that were a substitute for true love and marriage.
“Yeah?”
“In Scottsdale. Great view. It’s the top floor.”
“A penthouse...wow.”
“It was a killer deal from a client. I put in an extra month after they ran through their budget for my services. We were so close to this amazing employee-management agreement that I had to see it through. They were selling the condo they used for visiting execs, so they gave it to me for a great price.”
“Very cool.”
“Yeah. That project was the cover story of my professional association’s magazine, and got included in a feature in Business Week on innovative management. The publicity brought me customers.”
“Plus, you got a penthouse out of it. What’s it like?”
“It’s a showplace really. High ceilings, huge windows, warm wood floors, tons of built-ins, a chef-worthy kitchen.”
“You cook?”
She laughed. “I should learn, huh? I haven’t really settled in, I guess.” She paused, thinking that through. “It’s funny, but I’ve been there five months and I still feel like I’m in a pricey hotel, not my home, you know?”
“It’s probably all the travel.” He honed in on her, waiting for her to say more, letting her sort her thoughts.
“Maybe.” The truth was that no place she’d lived had ever felt like home. She used to blame it on the fact she’d always rented and never for long. “Now, here, your place, this feels like home. It feels...cared for, personal.”
“I like it. I don’t spend much time here, though. Juggling the two jobs has me keeping crazy hours.”
“I’ll bet.”
He looked at her for a few seconds, as if he wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure he should.
“What?” she said. “Tell me what you’re holding back.”
“It’s just that I plan to change that. The juggling.”
“Yeah?”
“Once the Wharton batteries hit the market and the demand increases, we’ll be in great shape. My plan is to quit the company and work for the town full-time.”