Worth the Risk_ A Contemporary - Megan Hart Page 0,168

with one. It really burns me up that she didn’t just trust me."

Rivka clicked her tongue against her teeth. "You know about William, of course."

Tom growled and finished the rest of his pint. "I’d like to punch that bastard right in the face. It’s all his fault."

Rivka rolled her eyes and looked so much like Lila his heart hurt again. "It’s not William’s fault, Tom. It’s yours, and Lila’s, too. Poor Billy is only an excuse."

Without asking, the bartender took Tom’s mug and refilled it. Tom stared at the thick, creamy head of foam atop the dark brew. He knew Rivka was right. It was just easier to blame things on William Darcy.

"So what can I do about it?"

Rivka rolled her eyes again and added a sigh so deep it had to have come from her toes. "Men!"

"What?" Tom’s defenses rose. "Rivka, I feel bad enough, so if you’re going to man bash.…"

"I’m not going to bash anyone." Rivka finished the last of her wine. She stood up and tugged his shoulder. "C’mon."

He looked at her warily. The Roving Ramblers weren’t even close to finishing their gig. Rivka’s grin made him nervous.

Suspicion filled him. "What do you want?"

"Come with me to the Gallery. To the studio. I want to paint you."

"Oh, no." Tom shook his head. "No way."

She frowned. "C’mon. You need this."

"I need this?"

"Yeah. You need this."

"Like I need a hole in my head." Tom grumbled, but he got off the stool. Rivka had a way about her that didn’t make her easy to deny. For one moment, Tom both envied and pitied Mick Delaney, who had made this wacky woman his wife.

"I’ll give you a hole in your head if you don’t move your butt." Rivka laughed. "C’mon, Tom, I need another X-Man."

Even though he was already on his feet and following her out of the bar, Tom stopped. "The X-Men again. What am I, just a face?"

Rivka didn’t wait for him, instead pushing open the door to the parking lot. She called over her shoulder to him. "God gives us certain things in life. It’s stupid to deny them."

Like he was being sucked along in the wake of an avalanche, Tom followed her to the lot. The frigid night air swept away some of the cobwebs he’d been allowing to cover him. He couldn’t believe he was actually going along with this.

The drive to The Gallery on Second was too short. He groaned to himself as he followed Rivka inside and to the small studio in the back. He watched as she flicked on lights and busied herself with pots of paint, brushes, and canvas.

"Rivka, I really don’t think I want to do this. I don’t see the point."

Rivka turned toward him, no longer teasing. "The point is it will make you feel better."

He barked out something that was supposed to be a laugh, but didn’t quite make it. "This whole issue with Lila is because she says I’m too good looking to fall in love with her. How can having my portrait painted make me feel any better about that? Are you going to show me with warts or something? A hunchback?"

Rivka was busy scraping her short curls away from her face and pinning them. "You don’t have any warts. And your back looks fine to me."

"I wish I did have warts! Or a whole bunch of scars."

"Chicks dig scars." Rivka pointed. "Sit."

Despite his misgivings, he sat. Stiff. Like a board. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so self-conscious. He’d never had his picture painted before, and he wasn’t sure what to expect. Something to do with berets maybe, or Rivka standing in front of him holding up her thumb. French accents. Oh, hell, what did he know about painting?

Rivka’s silence didn’t make things any more comfortable. She worked in silence, unbroken except for the scratch of her brush against the canvas. Her pretty face was furrowed in concentration, and he had time to study her.

"Lila says you’re the pretty one and she’s the smart one." He wanted to break the silence with something, even lame conversation. "Some kind of family joke?"

"Yeah. Our parents refused to compare us, so we had to do it for ourselves."

"So why did Lila get the short end of the stick?" The whole idea suddenly irritated him. He still wanted to lay blame, to ease the ache inside him.

Rivka bit her lip and studied her work. "What, you think being pretty is better than being smart? I always thought I got the