Why Not Tonight Page 13

  “You didn’t,” Natalie breathed.

  Silver laughed before hugging her. “I did. I went to the bakery and they were just pulling these out of the oven. Brace yourself—it gets worse.” She held up a small bag. “Irish butter.”

  “No. Not Irish butter.”

  At any given moment in time, Natalie was on the verge of gaining five or ten pounds, seemingly overnight. Her body just loved to be chubby, and while she liked to think she kept an ironclad schedule when it came to her exercise program, the truth was she didn’t exercise much at all.

  “I just finished eating like a rabbit for the past three days,” she said with a sigh. “I took a walk this weekend.” It had been more of a stroll, but still, there had been movement.

  “Then you’ve earned French bread and Irish butter,” Silver teased.

  “Easy for you to say. You’ve always been skinny, and yet I still love you.” Natalie pointed to the buffet table. “How are things?”

  “Good. Busy. I had to turn down a couple of weddings. I can’t be in two places at once and I was already booked.” Silver pulled a cutting board and bread knife out of her tote, then set the loaves on the cutting board with the butter next to them.

  “What about those two trailers you were thinking of buying? Have you decided?”

  Silver made a face. “No. It’s the money thing. I’m not comfortable taking out a loan.”

  “The bank would be happy to have you as a customer. You’re a successful businesswoman.”

  “Maybe.”

  There was another knock on the door. Natalie let in Bethany Archer.

  “I love it when lunch is here,” the petite blonde said, giving Natalie and Silver each hugs. “I feel so sophisticated surrounded by all the beautiful art.”

  “You’re a princess,” Silver said drily. “Shouldn’t you feel sophisticated all the time?”

  “You’d think, but no. So what’s new?”

  Natalie pointed to the buffet table. “Silver brought bread fresh from the bakery and Irish butter.”

  Bethany winced. “I’m on a diet. How am I supposed to be strong when you’re tempting me like that?”

  “If someone else buys it, the calories don’t count,” Silver told her.

  “Great. Tell that to my thighs.”

  Wynn, Carol and Pallas arrived just then and greeted everyone. Pallas was still looking pale.

  “Are you okay?” Natalie asked.

  “I had a bug,” Pallas said, her smile wan. “I’m getting over it.”

  “Whatever it was, I don’t want it,” Wynn said. “You’ve been sick for a while. Have you seen a doctor?”

  “I have. She says I’ll be fine.”

  There were more hugs all around. Then everyone wanted to take a quick tour of the gallery before getting to lunch.

  Natalie did her best not to squirm as her friends walked around. Atsuko had taken the dragon piece she’d started at Ronan’s and priced it at an astonishing thousand dollars. It was more than Natalie had ever gotten for an individual piece, and she had to admit she was nervous. What if no one bought it? What if everyone thought she was fooling herself, thinking she deserved that much for it? What if—

  “You never said anything,” Wynn called, pointing at the framed piece. “This is amazing. When did you do it?”

  “Over the past few weeks.”

  Her friends gathered around to study the stylized dragon.

  “Are those paper clips?” Carol asked. “They are! I never would have thought to use them. I love it. And hey, a thousand dollars! Good for you.”

  Natalie twisted her hands together. “I’m afraid it’s too much,” she admitted before she could stop herself.

  “You have to value your work or no one else will,” Wynn said sternly. “People try to get me to discount their projects all the time. At first I felt bad about saying no, but screw that. I have to pay for my equipment, my building and my employees. I do good work and that doesn’t come free.”

  Silver linked arms with her. “You’re so forceful and mature.”

  “I know. It’s a burden.”

  Wynn grinned and everyone laughed.

  “That sounds great,” Carol said. “But it’s not always easy to put a value on what we do. I work for a nonprofit, which makes asking for a raise difficult. Am I being realistic or taking away from the cause?”

  “That would be a hard one,” Natalie said. “But the animals love you and would want you to be happy.”

  “I don’t know. I think the giraffes would rather have more of their leaf eater treats.”

  Everyone glanced at Bethany, who raised both hands in a sign of surrender. “Yeah, not a conversation I’m going to get involved with. I wrestle with having value all the time. Let’s eat instead.”

  They headed for the buffet. Wynn and Carol had brought desserts, Bethany unwrapped a fresh veggie plate, while Pallas had provided an herbal sun tea and minestrone soup.

  “Everything looks so good,” Silver said as they served themselves.

  “That bread,” Carol whispered. “It’s the devil.”

  “That’s what I said,” Natalie told her with a grin. “And the Irish butter? Why does she hate us?”

  Once they were seated, Natalie carefully waited until her friends started eating. Then she picked up her fork and said as casually as she could, “So, who blabbed about me wanting to have a baby and maybe looking for a sperm donor?”

  Bethany dropped her spoon. “What on earth are you talking about? I was gone all of two weeks, visiting my family back in El Bahar, and you’re getting a sperm donor? What else did I miss?”

  “Nothing,” Silver assured her. “Don’t worry. Natalie only thinks she wants a sperm donor.”

  “Still, details, please.”

  Natalie filled her in on the baby app, then returned her attention to her other friends. “Well? I’m waiting. One or all of you said something to the world at large and I want to know who.”

  Pallas looked only a little guilty as she murmured, “Why do you ask?”

  “Gee, I don’t know. Some guy showed up to give me his résumé. He was interested in improving the species and wanted me to consider him as a sperm donor.” She set her fork by her plate. “Who is the guilty one?”

  Her friends looked at each other, then back at her. Wynn cleared her throat.

  “I’m so sorry. I did mention you were considering having a baby, but only in passing. I mean, I told a few people in passing.”

  Natalie wanted to whimper. “A few?”

  “I might have said something, too,” Silver told her.

  “Might have?”

  “Okay, I did mention it. But only, like Wynn said, in passing.”

  “I didn’t say anything to anyone,” Bethany said, sounding glum. “Because I didn’t know and I’m so disappointed by that.”

  Natalie looked at Carol and Pallas. Pallas continued to look guilty while Carol seemed more smug.

  “I told Millie,” Carol said, naming her favorite giraffe. “I don’t know who Millie told but I’m pretty sure they weren’t human.”

  “Oh. My. God! I thought I could trust you.” Natalie did her best to glare at everyone. “You just randomly told strangers I was thinking of getting a sperm donor to have a baby?”

  “I wouldn’t say randomly,” Wynn said, not looking the least bit repentant. “Now that you’re talking about it, I can see how it might have been a mistake to, you know, assume.”

  “You think?”

  Silver leaned toward Wynn. “She’s not as mad as she wants us to think.”

  “Yes, I am,” Natalie said. “I’m furious.”

  Even Carol looked doubtful.

  “Maybe not furious, but come on. I have no idea what I’m going to do.” Plus she’d only told them about the sperm donor to distra
ct everyone from the conversation about Ronan. “It’s a secret.”

  “I’m sorry I mentioned anything,” Pallas told her. “I mean that. I didn’t know it was a secret.”

  “Probably because I didn’t tell you.” Her mistake, she thought. “So from now on, no sperm donors.”

  Silver grinned. “If I had a nickel for every time a friend said that to me.”

  They all laughed.

  “So what else is going on?” Natalie asked, ready to change the subject. Because Edgar was not suitable lunch conversation.

  “I have an interesting wedding come up,” Pallas said. “It’s based on a movie. Batman & Robin. The movie is an older version of our favorite dark and dangerous hero,” she added. “It was out in 1997.”

  Natalie knew about the franchise but wasn’t familiar with that particular film. “I don’t think I’ve seen it.”

  “Oh, I have and it’s fun.” Silver grinned. “It’s the one with George Clooney. Chris O’Donnell plays his sidekick and Arnold Schwarzenegger is the main villain, but I like the Uma Thurman one better.”

  Wynn sighed. “I adore Chris O’Donnell in NCIS: Los Angeles. He’s such a cutie.”

  “Someone is picking a movie theme for their wedding?” Carol asked, sounding doubtful. “A movie based on a comic book?”

  “A lot of people want to do comic-themed weddings,” Pallas said. “You’d be amazed what’s available to order through various vendors. People are so creative.” She turned to Natalie. “The details aren’t all worked out, but I’ve talked to the bride and we have some preliminary ideas, which is where you come in.”

  “Me?”

  Pallas nodded. “Do you remember that paper bouquet you made for me a couple of months ago?”

  “Of course.”

  The bride had wanted something special for her rehearsal, and when Pallas had asked about making flowers using origami, Natalie had been all in. She’d created a bridal bouquet entirely out of paper, matching the colors of the paper flowers to the actual bouquet. The bride had been thrilled to have a keepsake of her special day and Natalie had enjoyed the challenge.

  “What about doing a small arrangement of flowers out of comic book pages?” Pallas asked. “They would be for centerpieces rather than for a bridal bouquet.”

  Natalie sat back in her chair. “I never thought of using comic book paper as a medium. I get the point of it—all the drawings and the words would add shading. I’d have to feel the texture of the paper. Maybe a comic print on different paper. I’m not sure. But it’s really a fun idea.”

  “She already has the vases.” Pallas hesitated. “We’re talking fifteen tables and maybe three vases at each table, so a total of forty-five bouquets. And you’d only have about five weeks.”

  “I’d need to see the vases to figure out if it’s possible, and if it is, I’d like to work up a bid,” Natalie said. “The size of the vase will determine the size of the flowers and how many each vase will need.”

  “I’ll drop off a couple later today.”

  “Then I’ll let you know if I can do it and how much it will be by first thing tomorrow.”

  “Thanks. I hope it works out. I know my bride would love your work.”

  And Natalie would love the chance to try something new. Um, something artistic. Edgar would be new and she definitely didn’t want to try him!

  CHAPTER TEN

  RONAN FINISHED PUTTING away his equipment. It was nearly six and Natalie was still at her small workstation, surrounded by open boxes. He picked up his backpack and walked over.

  “You’re working late.”

  She glanced up as he spoke. Her glasses had slipped down her nose and it took a second for her eyes to focus. She looked rumpled, harried and sexier than should be legal.

  “What? Is it late?” She glanced at the big clock on the wall. “Six? How did that happen? Last time I checked, it was barely three.”

  He smiled before bending down to kiss her. “Occupational hazard, gorgeous. Want to get some dinner?”

  Her full lips turned up. “Did you just call me gorgeous?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s so nice. I’m starving, so dinner would be...” She drew in a breath, then squared her shoulders. “Thank you, but no. Rain check, please.”

  “Sure, but why not tonight?”

  “I have to work.” Her expression turned impish. “I got the job. I have to make eight flowers for each of the vases the bride sent. That’s forty-five vases times eight flowers.” Her brows drew together. “That’s, ah...”

  “Three hundred and sixty flowers.”

  “Ack! How did you do that in your head? And so fast.”

  “It’s a penis thing.”

  She rolled her eyes. “It has nothing to do with your penis. You have a mind for math. Girls can do math just as well as boys and they’re more highly verbal in their early years. Don’t you start with me and math, bucko.”

  He chuckled and held up both hands. “I’m sorry. I was joking. Women are as capable as men at math and science and computer programming. I believe that down to my soul. I won’t mess with you on that topic again. I promise.”

  So Natalie was a bit of a feminist. Good for her. He liked her sass and her attitude. She was tough and stood up to him. Back when he still believed he was pretty much like everyone else, he’d wanted to have a wife and kids. If he was still that guy, Natalie would be tough to resist. He could imagine having kids with her. No, not kids. Daughters. He would want them to be exactly like their mom.

  “You called me bucko,” he added.

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  He sat on the corner of her desk and picked up a mason jar. It had a black heart painted on it. The one next to it had a bat.

  “So this wedding is based on a comic book character?” he asked.

  “No, a movie. Batman & Robin. It was out in the nineties. I haven’t seen it.”

  “I’ll download it for us, if you’d like.”

  “I would. Tomorrow for sure.” She picked up the bat mason jar. “I’m going to have to put together a schedule to get everything done on time. I don’t want to be rushing at the end. So many flowers a day or maybe a week.”

  “What’s the appeal with the project? I thought you enjoyed creating your mixed-media pieces. Are you going in another direction?”

  She studied him for a second before standing and kissing him. “You’re sweet and so naive.” She touched a finished flower. “I’m getting paid to do this.”

  “You have a job at the gallery.”

  “I have a part-time job at the gallery. That’s my choice and Atsuko always lets me figure out my hours. There’s one week a month where I have to be in the office more because we’re paying the artists and doing bills and inventory. The rest of the time, I work maybe twenty hours a week. That almost keeps me in mac and cheese.”

  He didn’t like the thought of her struggling to get by, but sensed he wasn’t supposed to say that.

  “You use the rest of your time for your art,” he offered instead.

  “Yes.” She lightly kissed him again, her gentle touch arousing him a lot more than he would guess she suspected.

  “I don’t mind struggling for my art, so to speak,” she continued. “I have it better than most. I’m selling fairly steadily at the gallery. My prices are going up, so yay. These flowers will go in my portfolio and they’ll pay my rent for the next two months. That makes me happy.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Unexplained feelings battled inside of him. He supposed if he had to pick just one, it would be shame.

  He’d never once had to struggle. Not financially. He was a Mitchell—son of the great Ceallach. Doors had been opened to him before he’d been born. There was an assumption that what he created was brilliant. All he had to do was not screw up
too badly.

  But what about Natalie? He wanted to write her a check for a few hundred thousand dollars and change her life. He wanted to tell Atsuko to sell her work for twenty times the price. He wanted to fix the problem. Only he couldn’t. It wasn’t his right and she wouldn’t want him to.

  “I’m happy you’re happy,” he said, careful to keep his tone upbeat. He kissed her one last time, then released her. “Don’t work too late.”

  “I won’t.” She smiled. “Tomorrow for sure.”

  “It’s a date.”

  “Will there be sex?”

  Blood froze in place before heading to his dick. “I’d like that.”

  “Me, too. Dinner, sex and a movie.”

  Did she have to keep talking about it? He was getting harder by the second. The next twenty-four hours were going to be hell.

  “Count me in,” he told her, and started for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “You will.”

  By the time Ronan made it up the mountain to his house, he was marginally less aroused. As long as he didn’t think about Natalie too much, he might make it through the night without too much pain. He let himself inside, but instead of heading to the kitchen or his study, he walked through to the hallway leading to his studio, then went into the storeroom he’d had built.

  After flipping on the light, he looked at the shelves and tables, all filled with his finished work. There were dozens of pieces, maybe over a hundred. Some were small enough to fit on the palm of his hand while others stretched nearly to the ceiling. There were abstracts, animals, people, plants and creatures that had never existed outside of his imagination.

  Some were promised to Atsuko. They had a plan to release various collections over time—a way of keeping his work in the public eye while he worked on larger commissions. But others were simple things he’d made because he’d seen something in his head and had needed to get it out. And here they sat.

  He walked down one aisle and up the other, passing various creations. He’d never much thought about his personal inventory—why it existed or what he should do with it.