by Vivian Wood
Lily squeezed her tight before padding back to the stove to fry some bacon. “You feeling better about Rex now?”
If anything, Rose was feeling too good about Rex. “Yeah, he explained a few things to me yesterday, and I understand where he’s coming from now.”
There was nothing but the sizzle and fragrance of bacon. Rose didn’t relax. She knew where this conversation was going.
“You know, rough as you look right now, you still look better than the day you flew in.”
“Mom, that’s because flying and airports are awful. It’s not because Boston is awful.” Rose cringed at her own tone, just like a petulant teenager.
“I’m not saying Boston is awful, just maybe suggesting that it’s awful for you.” Her mother snuck a peek at Rose over her shoulder. She wondered what angle her mother would try this time. “You know, that art man from Kimbell has been asking about you.”
“He’s the Director of Research,” Rose said with a sigh. Alfred Faulk. That man would not be happy until he’d stolen her from her current job. Part of it was she was good, but a bigger part the rivalry going on between the two museums. Her coworkers shared all the highlights from the occasions when the two institutions crossed paths.
“Well, he’s been very sweet. He promised to book a weekend as soon as we opened and to tell his friends about it.”
Rose looked at the back of her mother’s head. Sometimes she wondered if the two were in cahoots. She could almost picture Alfred drinking coffee with her parents, enjoying an argument about politics. “Oh.”
“He said to give him a ring when you’re in town and he’ll give you private tour.”
She finished her coffee with a scowl. Alfred always got to make his pitch, because he knew just how to lure her in. He was king of the dark dusty corners, and made sure each time show her something stunning. A rare lithograph, a new painting making a way-stop before it went to the cleaners, a sculpture just arrived for a show: Rose got to stand in the backroom and admire it with only the animated Director for company.
It was too early to call the man. Rose found something to do in the garden. Over breakfast, she and Rex avoided looking at each other. Their partnership was sealed with an almost-empty ballpoint pen on the kitchen counter.
Rose was afraid to touch him, afraid her heart would leap out of her chest if she did. Her mind supplied her with the vivid image of her coughing up a bit of black wet meat into her hand and she grimaced.
“Are you okay there?” Rex asked. He moved to pat her arm, a friendly gesture Rose shied away from.
“You better call Alfred today,” her mom said.
“I’ll call him tomorrow,” Rose grumbled.
“I said you’d call him today when I talked to him yesterday.”
“Fine,” Rose said with a sigh, fishing her cellphone out of her pocket.
“Do you need his number?” Lily asked.
Rose snorted. Normally she’d be annoyed, but today she was grateful for the excuse to get away. “No.”
* * *
Lily smirked and Rex was wondering, who the hell is Alfred? It was a strange nervous feeling, a bitter taste, that name. He didn’t remember anyone ever mentioning an Alfred. Was there even anyone in this town named Alfred?
Lily was watching him and his mouth twitched, wanting to demand who her daughter was calling.
Cool. Play it cool. After all, he didn’t want his boss catching him acting all jealous. Damn. That’s what it was too, jealousy. Rex wanted to groan and hang his head in his hands, but instead he asked, “Alfred?” There, that sounded casual.
“Alfred, the art man. God, he’s been trying to get Rose to work for him at the Kimbell for years. Although, I think he has a bit of a crush on her too.” Lily gave him a conspiratorial wink. “Don’t say that to Rose. She gets mad every time I do.”
Rex nodded. It was all he could manage. He pictured a debonair man with sleek blond hair in a black suit. Rose had her arm linked through his and they were laughing.
“You know, you should take Annie there. It might not seem like it, because she’ll just be bouncing around, but I think art does them good. We used to take Rose there.”
Rex gave Lily a warm smile because he couldn’t hug the woman every time she said Annie. How she managed to keep it straight—calling his daughter Annabelle Lee when she talked to her and Annie when she talked to him—he wasn’t sure, but he appreciated it.
“That sounds lovely,” he said.
“Good, I’ll see what I can do about the schedule.”
When the only time Lily could find for him to go was at three, on a Tuesday, Rex knew something was up. Lily kept smiling to herself, and Tad had asked Rex if he knew just what Lily was hatching. Rex assured him, he did not. He didn’t mention his suspicions that it involved his trip to the museum, because that was a gut feeling he had.
Lily had made sure Annie had a pretty dress to wear, and Annie tolerated her fussing with a patience she had for no other woman. All the more reason to not mess things up by having useless feelings for Rose. There was a prickling on the back of his neck as he got out of the car and he scanned the parking lot for the old pickup Rose had borrowed. While the exterior was nothing to look at, the mechanics were sound, and sure enough, he spotted it, rusting amid the Acuras and low-end Mercedes.
Then, the door opened, and Rose herself slid out. She was wearing something flowy and feminine, an outfit that wrapped her curves and made a gift of her for every man passing by. With a shock he realized it was the same thing she’d worn from the airport. It was like he was seeing her with entirely new eyes, like he had changed since she had arrived.
“Daddy, why are you staring?” Annie asked.
Rose turned and waved at them. “Hey, you two. What are you doing here?”
She walked toward them, and—oh god—she had heels on. Her luscious thighs looked so damn good, he wanted to wrap them around his shoulders. Christ, he shouldn’t be having thoughts like that, not about his bosses’ daughter, not when he had his own daughter with him.
Rex opened his mouth, but he didn’t trust himself to speak. His voice would be hoarse with desire.
“Miss Lily said we should go,” Annie said.
“Oh,” Rose said, puzzled. Realization dawned on her, drawing out another, longer, “Oh.” Her gaze flicked up and down Rex, her cheeks flushing red.
At that moment Rex realized the same the same thing. Lily was trying to set them up. His heart did this weird jump, up to his throat then down to his belly, when he realized he’d been given tacit approval from Rose’s mother, and likely her father, to date her.
“Well, I’ve got a few minutes before I’m supposed to meet Alfred. Why don’t I show you two around?”
Annie took Rose’s hand, and together they walked into the museum. The woman sitting at the front desk took one look at them and waved them past with a friendly smile.
“Do you have friends here?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. Alfred is just trying to woo me,” she replied with a sigh.
Rex’s gut clenched, once at the name and again at the word woo. It didn’t matter if she was being sarcastic. He didn’t like the thought of some strange man near her.
For the love of god, Rex, get a grip on yourself.
Rose stopped in front of a painting of three men playing cards and crouched down next to Annie.
“This is one of my favorite paintings. It’s called The Cardsharps by Caravaggio. I like how it tells a story. See the young man in black?” She pointed and Annie nodded. “He’s looking at his hand, thinking it’s a fair game, while the man next to him looks at his cards and signals to his partner.”
“They’re cheating!” Annie said.
“Ah-huh, they’re definitely cheating. I love their expressions. Look at how innocent he’s pretending to be while pulling out a card.” She pointed to the other player who had his hand by the small of his back, pulling out one of the two cards there.
He lo
oked at the tableaux again. The innocent victim looking at his cards, somber in black. The cardsharp next to him with an assessing frown, holes visible in his gloves as he held two fingers up to his partner. And his partner, peacock bright and projecting wide-eyed virtue as hard as he could while fishing out the needed card.
Rex laughed. “It is a good painting.”
Rose smiled at him, a warm expression that lit her face up like the sun and her gaze met his. With a mind of its own, his body leaned forward, his tongue traced his lips.
Not the time for a kiss. He looked at the ground and Rose shook her head, her cheeks coloring. At least he wasn’t the only one affected. He didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing, Rose wanting him back.
“Rose! There you are! I knew I’d find you standing here. Are you sure I can’t order you a reproduction?”
They turned to see an elegant man, early fifties, in a tailored gray suit soiled here and there with a bit of dust.
“As you can see, I’ve been preparing for your visit.” He gave Rose a saucy wink and she replied with an easy laugh.
Rex wanted to growl, to push Rose back into the car and leave.
The man, Alfred, looked at him and took a step back. “And who are your lovely companions?” he asked, quickly regaining his composure.
“This is Rex Waits, our new foreman, and his daughter Annabelle Lee.”
“I’m Alfred Faulk. Charmed to meet you,” he said as Rex crushed his fingers in a less-than-friendly handshake. The man didn’t even wince. He was good. “And you as well, Miss Annabelle Lee.” He performed an elaborate bow for his daughter, who giggled.
If he kissed the back of her hand, Rex was going to punch him. And if he touched Rose, he would kick his ass.
The heat of his emotions surprised him, the curse springing to his thoughts like a fist.
“Well, dear, are you ready to see some mysteries?” He held out his arm and with a smirk Rose took it.
Rex clenched his jaw. That counted as touching, didn’t it?
“I’ll see you two later,” Rose said with a wave.
“Bye!” Annie said.
He grunted and jerked his chin at them.
“It was a pleasure meeting you two. Hope I see you again,” Alfred said, looking over his shoulder. His eyes narrowed on Rex for a second before he turned to Rose, all business.
“Daddy, why don’t you like that man?” Annie asked.
He winced and scrubbed the back of his neck. “Um… It’s not that daddy doesn’t like the man. He was just surprised, that’s all.”
Annie gave him her Oh aren’t you just full of it? look. “Okay,” she said. He added the If you say so… in his head for her. She was going to be a terror when she got older. Boys, look out—this one’s too smart for her age!
* * *
What had just happened? For a second, she thought Rex was going to kiss her, and she was going to let him. Alfred was nattering on and all she could think about was the knot in her chest. It ached. Even looking at Rex like that made guilt squeeze up into the back of her throat, a sour taste.
“Are you all right, dear?”
She stared at Alfred. When had he stopped talking?
He gave her hand a friendly pat. “I don’t think your new foreman cared much for me,” he said, leading her through a long dim hall.
That was another puzzle. Was Rex jealous? And why was he here? It had her mother’s fingerprints all over it. Lily always did like to play matchmaker. It was her meddling that got Peggy together with Josh.
“I have to admit, if you were more to my taste, I’d probably be jealous of him,” Alfred said.
He’d needle her until she replied. It was one of the things she grudgingly liked about him. “But I’m almost half your age, and young people exhaust you.”
“You are taxing. Useful, but taxing. I like telling you whippersnappers what to do, and then retiring to my office.” He let go of her arm to punch a code into a keypad. “And in here, we have something extraordinary. The clay Bernini models,” he said with a flourish.
The lights flicked on and Alfred guided her to the first sculpture. When they were set out for the public, there would be glass between them, but here, she got to see them naked, waiting to be displayed.
It was the sacred moments like these, when the centuries dissolved and the artist spoke to her, that inspired her love of art.
She forgot all her problems as Alfred explained the different tools used and the marks they left. He got into politics too. The man couldn’t resist.
At the last piece, Alfred left her. He knew she wanted some time alone with the art. She took another tour, seeing, absorbing, marveling at the details present even in the simple clay models. The curls of hair, the drape of fabric, the rigid look of religious ecstasy. She’d like to see the public exhibit too, to see people enjoying the art.
“Have you seen the real thing?” Alfred asked.
Her heart squeezed out a dribble of black bile. She and Robert were going to visit Rome on their honeymoon. She had been looking forward to the art museums. Robert had been looking forward to feigning interest, or at least that’s what he’d teased.
“Rose?” Alfred was frowning at her.
“Sorry, just a lot on my mind.”
“Mm…” He closed the door behind them, and she could tell by the furrow on his brow he was getting ready to make his sales pitch.
“I’m not—”
He cut her off with a wave of his hand. She hated how he could do that, speak with gestures as much as words. “This offer is a little different, and for once I’d like you to listen with an open mind.” He sighed. “I know we’re not friends, barely even colleagues, and it’s not my place to say these things, but each time I see you, you look…” He stared at the floor, as if the words he needed were written there. “Well, more haggard. If you die an almost-widow in Boston, that’s fine by me, but you’re not happy, are you?”
She didn’t know how to react. The words had the sharpness of truth. They pricked at the knot in her chest.
“And really, I want to see you happy. You’re a talented researcher, and while the hoi polloi will never appreciate what you do for them, I do. You deserve to be happy.”
“What does that have to do with working here?” she asked.
“I want to offer you a part time job. You’d be able to pick the assignments you wanted to work on, and spend more time with your parents, and—I hope I’m not overstepping my bounds again—Rex and his daughter.”
She shook her head. “We’re not seeing each other.”
“Well, that’s too bad. Wanting to rend my soul from my body aside, he looks like a very nice man.”
“Did you and my mother plan this?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I prefer coordinated. It sounds less nefarious.”
“Since when have you two been friends?”
He laughed at that. “Since I decided you were going to work for me, and then I realized how lovely your parents are. Your father and I quarrel, and your mother laughs.”
Rose wasn’t sure whether to be happy or annoyed that she was right.
“I’m going to be sending lots of business your way as soon as the resort opens. Consider working here as a way to thank me.”
She arched an eyebrow at him.
“Well, it was worth a try. But do think it over, for once. You have a life, Rose. It’s time you start living it.”
Alfred fidgeted with a ring, and her curiosity was piqued. He was normally so composed.
“I know how you feel, what it’s like to lose someone you love. That guilt, when you open up your heart again. But I know too,” and as he spoke, tears sparkled in eyes, “that Yvette would have wanted me to be happy. Do you think your fiancé would want you to spend the rest of your life pining over him?”
Everything stopped. The next thing she knew, Alfred was settling her on a bench in the courtyard.
“I’ll come back and check on you. I know it’s a lot to th
ink about.”
She barely heard him. The wind shifted the leaves in the arbor, making the shadows play on the ground. Her stomach was a fist, and her heart quivered.
Robert wouldn’t have wanted this, would he? He wouldn’t have wanted her to bury her happiness in the ground with him. She put her head down and cried. If anything, he’d be disappointed in her, spending all these years with her heart locked in her chest, numb with sorrow.
A door clicked open and she peeked through her fingers. Annabelle Lee streaked towards her, a frowning Rex a step behind her.
“Don’t cry, Miss Rose,” the girl said, flinging her arms around the distraught woman.
She caught the girl with an oof.
“Now, Annie, maybe we should…” Rex trailed off, his hand hanging in the air.
She waved away his concern. “I’m all right,” she said with a sniff.
Politely not looking at her, Rex proffered a red handkerchief.
“Thanks,” she said, dabbing at her eyes.
“Can I give you a ride back? I don’t like the thought of you driving back upset. If that’s okay.” He kept the fingers of one hand busy with the fingers of the other.
Not that she could blame him. She felt like she’d swallowed a jar of Mexican jumping beans. “Yes, thank you. I’d appreciate that.”
Alfred waved goodbye to her and she nodded. She’d have to thank him, somehow. Hell, maybe she’d even take the job he offered. She could move back home, and maybe…
Her gaze slid over to Rex, his face tense and closed.
“He didn’t upset you, did he?” Rex asked softly once outside.
She thought about how to answer that question. “He upset me, but someone needed to.” She sighed, and with the outrush of air, everything inside her untwisted. “He said some things I needed to hear.”
Rex took a deep breath before he said, “I can respect that.”
The perfect gentleman, he opened the door for her. His practical little Honda made her smile.
“I’ll send a couple of the boys for the truck,” he said, starting the ignition. He was a little too big for the car, just a few inches shy of being cartoonish.