LITMIR.BIZ

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“type” he’d ever known. Intelligent but unhappy, educated but badly employed, homey but sexy, bold but unsure of herself … complementary and contradictory.

      Chev sighed, willing himself to put her out of his mind,to find sleep. He’d just begun to relax when a honking, plaintive noise sounded outside his window, again … and again … and again.

      The peacock was back, calling for a mate.

      Chev put his pillow over his ears. It was going to be a long night.

       11

      “HOW’S THE JOB?” Sue Asked.

      Gemma held her cell phone between her ear and shoulder while she tied the belt on the lightweight black raincoat she wore over her costume. She unlocked her car door and swung inside, mulling her response. Her body was strung tight after a day of being on exhibit herself. She was looking forward to getting home and taking a long bubble bath. “Fine, I guess. I’m getting accustomed to the routine.”

      Sue gave a little laugh. “I might have to drive down there and check out your show.”

      Gemma hesitated, trying to adopt a casual tone. “Sue, do you remember the Sexual Psyche class in college?”

      “Sex for Beginners? Sure, I remember. What about it?”

      “Did you ever take it?”

      “No. I thought I already knew everything—what a joke. But you took it, didn’t you?”

      “Yeah.”

      “And what made you think about the class after all these years?”

      “I … received something in the mail the other day that … dredged up old memories.”

      “What?”

      “An assignment that we had, to write down our fantasies. Dr. Alexander said she’d mail them to us ten years later.”

      “Wow, that’s kind of cool … isn’t it?”

      “I guess, but a bit weird. I wrote them before I met Jason.”

      “Yeah, Gemma, you were an actual person before you met Jason. I was there, remember?”

      Gemma blinked at her friend’s sarcasm. “What’s with the attitude? You introduced us.”

      A hesitant hum sounded over the line, then Sue said, “I thought you’d go out, have some fun. Honestly, I never dreamed the two of you would get married.”

      Gemma’s mouth opened and closed. “So … you didn’t … you don’t think that we were a good match?”

      “That wasn’t for me to decide. But I admit I was surprised when you and Jason got serious.”

      “You didn’t think I was good enough for him?”

      “Don’t be ridiculous. The two of you just seemed so … different. You were so earthy with your art, and he was already so judicial.”

      And judgmental, Gemma added silently. Jason had a way of making people feel they needed to be on their best behavior around him. He had been a lifesaver at the time, a reason to rein in her deviant sexual conduct and keep herself in check. She had needed him, and had worked so hard to be what he’d needed in return. “Well, since it didn’t last,” she said lightly, “I guess you get the prize.”

      “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Gemma.” Sue sighed. “I’m just really happy for you that you’re moving on.”

      Gemma leaned her head back on the headrest. “I don’t feel like I’m moving on.”

      “You have a new job.”

      “It’s temporary.”

      “And how about that neighbor of yours?”

      “He’s temporary, too. He’s flipping the house by the end of the month.”

      “That old Spanish two-story? Isn’t it kind of a wreck?”

      Gemma lifted her head. “Yeah, but it’s going to be spectacular. Chev is really paying attention to detail.”

      “Sounds like you are, too.”

      Gemma realized too late that her voice was elevated, her words rushed and excited. She backpedaled, adopting a casual tone. “He asked for my help on a couple of historical aspects of the house.”

      “Oh? Well, you know your stuff, so this Chev guy is showing good sense by asking your advice.”

      “I’m sure he wants to set as high an asking price as possible when it goes up for auction.”

      “Uh-huh. What kinds of things are you helping him with?”

      “Architectural details. And I’m replacing a mural for him.”

      “You’re painting again? That’s wonderful! What’s he paying you?”

      Gemma swallowed. “Actually, it’s a trade. He’s going to fix my air conditioner.”

      “Is he now? Gotta love a man who’s good with his hands.”

      “Sue, I’m not sleeping with the guy.”

      “Are you at least thinking about it?”

      Gemma started her car engine. “Oh, look at that—my phone battery is dying, and I need to get home.”

      “Liar. At least tell me if he lives in Tampa.”

      “No. Like I said, he’s temporary.”

      “No strings can be a good thing.”

      “Goodbye, Sue.”

      Sue sighed. “Goodbye.”

      Gemma disconnected the call and shook her head. Sue meant well by encouraging her to have a meaningless relationship to help move past Jason’s rejection. But her friend would be shocked if she knew what had already transpired between her and her neighbor.

      Just like she would’ve been shocked if Gemma’s exhibitionism in college had been exposed. Shocked and ashamed.

      On the drive home, Gemma reflected on Sue’s comment that she and Jason hadn’t been suited for each other. Had other people thought the same thing? Had people whispered that their marriage wouldn’t last even as they were standing before the altar taking their vows? Had her desperation to marry Jason been so apparent?

      Had Jason sensed it, too? Even though she’d never uttered a word of her subversive urges to exhibit herself, had being her safety chute worn on him?

      By the time she pulled onto her street, both the sun and her mood were on the downslide. Chev’s property was crowded with vehicles and equipment and workers, most of whom were loading up to leave. She saw him standing shoulders above them, looking like some kind of primitive chief in his bandanna, his torso bare and brown. He turned his head as she drove past and his dark gaze pierced her to the core, suffusing her chest with pleasure as she wheeled into her driveway.

      But at the sight of the peacock in her yard, uprooting her newly replanted flowers, those warm, fuzzy feelings were obliterated, and high voltage anger whipped through her.

      FROM HIS YARD, Chev saw the peacock and cringed. Considering the way Gemma had slammed her car into Park and come charging out, he wouldn’t be surprised if she were about to wring the poor thing’s neck.

      The bird veered away, emitting its high-pitched mewling noise. Gemma chased it around the yard, windmilling her arms and stomping her feet. In her voluminous black coat, she looked ridiculous, but the peacock must have found her menacing. The bird lunged, flapping its wings and careening wildly to stay a few feet ahead of her.

      The men standing around him laughed and made circular motions with their fingers indicating that Gemma was loco. Chev smiled and waved them on their way, then stood for

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