Where Dreams Begin

by Phoebe Conn

  “Yes, I understand, but for how long? Weeks, months, years?” She bit her lip, but the complaint had tumbled from her mouth before she could catch it.

  Her emotion-laced question caught him off guard, and he shrugged wearily. “Right now, I can’t think past this afternoon.” He didn’t mean to mislead her, but neither could he do the courageous thing, the right thing, and send her away. At least not when Toby and Dave would be so eager to console her, he couldn’t.

  He cleared his throat and pressed on as though her problem were easily solved. “If you like, I’ll tell Dave you’re seeing someone. There’s no reason to go into imaginative detail when it’s plain you don’t want to lie.”

  Catherine felt sick to her stomach, and it wasn’t because she was worried about lying to Dave, but to Luke. “It would still be a lie, though, wouldn’t it?” she cautioned. “It would be meant to spare his feelings, but when Pam knows, why haven’t you told Dave the truth?”

  In hope of ushering her smoothly out of his office, Luke rose to his feet. “I’m providing Dave not only with a job and a place to live, but psychological counseling as well. That means I listen to his problems and guide him toward solutions, but I don’t confide in him. Does that make sense to you?”

  “Of course, it’s the same as a doctor-patient relationship,” she replied. At least she understood that much. She rose and took a step toward the open doorway. “I really don’t know what to do until that contract arrives and we can begin work.”

  She appeared so uncharacteristically befuddled that he couldn’t resist the impulse to give her a hug. The instant she was tucked neatly into his arms, however, it wasn’t nearly enough. He breathed in her delicious vanilla scent and then regretfully released her.

  “Why don’t you go on home? When you come in tomorrow, we should be all set.”

  “All right, I’ll go. See you in the morning.” Catherine was now sorry she’d left her car parked beside Toby’s house, but because she would walk right by the hall, she decided to make a quick check of the center’s library.

  Violet was kneeling on one of the new throw rugs placed in front of the bookshelves. She smiled happily as Catherine walked up. “I’ve got Ford fooled into believing I’ve quit reading, but I’ve just been reading here rather than taking books home.”

  Violet looked very pleased with herself for being so clever, but Catherine wasn’t impressed. She sat on the adjacent rug and began to straighten the books in one of the new bookcases.

  “I suppose that’s one way to deal with the problem, but it isn’t the best.”

  Violet shrugged her thin shoulders. “I think it’s a pretty good way,” she argued. “If Ford doesn’t know what I’m doing, then he can’t throw a fit over it.”

  “True, but there must be a limit to how much a woman can sanely hide.” Catherine feared she was close to discovering her own limitations in that regard. “Have you seen Rafael’s drawing for the mural? One of his angels looks an awful lot like you.”

  Violet caught Catherine’s wrist with a frantic grip. “Oh no, he can’t use me. Ford would know I’ve been over here, then.”

  Violet’s eyes were filled with stark terror, moving Catherine to cover the girl’s small hand with her own. “Perhaps he won’t notice.”

  “Oh, he’ll notice, all right. That man can almost see through walls. I better go.” She quickly released her hold on Catherine, turned down the page in the book she’d been reading and shoved it back into the bottom shelf.

  “Tell Rafael not to use me. He just can’t.”

  Catherine watched Violet sprint from the hall and thought if any of the girls deserved a guardian angel, it was Violet. She was uncertain what to tell Rafael. After all, Violet made a stunning angel, and he might not want to paint someone else in her place.

  “Damn, if that isn’t another prickly problem I don’t need,” Catherine moaned to herself, but by the time she had the bookshelves looking as neat as any library’s, she still lacked a viable solution.

  Later that afternoon, Luke carried the contract over to Toby’s along with a pen to make certain the artist would have no excuse not to sign. Toby was at work in his garage welding hubcap eyes on his huge cat. When he spotted Luke at the doorway, he climbed down off the ladder, extinguished his torch and raised his protective visor.

  As he stripped off his gloves, he looked Luke up and down with a disdainful glance. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

  “I don’t like you at all, but we don’t have to be best friends for the mural project to go well.”

  “Right, my sentiments exactly. An artist has to learn to deal with all types of humanity, and I can deal with you.” Toby used the toe of his boot to yank his stool close and sat down. “I intend to read every word of that contract, so I hope you don’t mind hanging around for a while.”

  “Not at all.” Luke handed it over with the pen still clipped to the front. “My signature is already on it. It’s a straightforward agreement. You’re granting us permission to paint a mural on your house, but we’ll own the mural and all rights to reproduce it by whatever means currently in existence or might be invented.”

  “Okay,” Toby offered agreeably, but he still reviewed the multi-page document thoroughly. “Looks like all you want is the exclusive right to reproduce the mural.”

  “That’s correct. Even if it’s one of your favorite art magazines, we’ll have to give permission. But we want the image everywhere, so we’d be unlikely to withhold it.”

  “There’s no mention of my maintaining the mural, so if the paint starts to peel—”

  “Then it peels,” Luke stated for him. “It won’t last forever, but our photographs of it will.”

  “I might sell the house next year,” Toby warned.

  “It’s your house; you have that right.”

  Toby looked torn momentarily, then used his thigh to steady the contract and scrawled his name on the appropriate line. He shook the pages into order, and handed the contract and the pen back to Luke. “You’ll give me a copy?”

  “Of course,” Luke refolded the contract and slid the pen into his shirt pocket. “Now that’s out of the way, let’s talk about Mrs. Brooks.”

  Toby responded with a taunting grin. “One of my favorite subjects.”

  Luke hated Toby’s smirk, but he succeeded in fighting back his temper. “I can see that, but you’re definitely not one of hers. You’re embarrassing her, and you can’t keep coming on to her, especially not in front of the kids. She deserves your respect as well as theirs, and I intend to see that she gets it.”

  “Cut the bullshit,” Toby responded angrily. “You want her for yourself. Now, access to my studio wasn’t part of your contract. Get out.”

  Luke turned on his heel and left rather than risk having Toby relight his torch and use it as a flamethrower. He wasn’t surprised the artist had guessed the truth. He’d bluffed a professional detachment he didn’t feel, and Toby had seen right through it. For some bizarre reason, that actually made the guy a lot more likable.

  Tuesday morning, Luke was waiting for Catherine when she drove into the center parking lot. “I just wanted to encourage you to use the same technique you used on the bookcases to make the kids believe they’re running things.”

  “They will be,” she insisted. As always, the first time she saw him each day, she was struck by how handsome he was when he smiled. The affection brightening his gaze was most welcome as well.

  “I’ll be manipulating them just as deftly as you, though, won’t I?” she asked.

  He was relieved she appeared to be in better spirits that day. “I always think of it as guiding them toward independence.”

  “Which is merely a rationalization, as I’m sure you know. Did Toby sign the contract?”

  “Yes, and if he so much as winks at you today, come and get me.” He paused to reroll the left sleeve of his Madras shirt, but his gaze remained locked with hers.

  “And just what is it you plan to
do? I think you could take him in a fair fight, but he doesn’t strike me as a man who’d fight fair.”

  “I’ll bet you’d like to see it, though,” Luke teased.

  “I’ve seen you with a black eye, and it sure wasn’t pretty, so no, I don’t want to ever see you fight anyone, and most especially not over me. Now let’s attempt to be more professional, Dr. Starns, or I’ll be tempted to turn around and drive right back home.”

  He squared his shoulders as though he’d been properly chastised. “Yes, ma’am, I’ll be as professional as possible. Are you free tonight?”

  “Better ask me after I’ve spent the day supervising the work on the mural. I may not be able to do more than float in my tub.”

  He made no effort to contain his smile. “I could go for that too.”

  “Quit distracting me.” She plunked on a straw hat and forced a businesslike demeanor. “I’ve got my clipboard to make notes of who’s working so that everyone will have a turn. I plan to take photos with my camera in addition to whatever photos Dave might take with the center’s digital. Will I need your written permission?”

  “No, of course not. Get doubles when you have your photos developed, and we’ll post them in the hall. Nobody photographs these kids, and they ought to get a real kick out of the pictures.”

  “I hope so. I brought some bottles of water, but I’ll have the kids carry them across the street.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you. They might need snacks too. I’ll buy some protein bars. I should probably go on over and have another chat with Toby. I don’t want the kids in his house for anything other than to lean out the window to paint. If they need to use the john, then they’ll have to come back here. I don’t want them to depend on Toby for anything.”

  “I can tell him that,” she offered. “I thought I’d warn him not to serve anyone beer, or any illegal substances, either. I know you were worried he’d be a bad influence when we first met him, but I really think he’s more talk than trouble.”

  “Then we’ve got some kids who might corrupt him, but for the first few days, anyway, keep an eye on the guy. If he’s flirting with the girls the way he does with you, then I’m going to banish him to his garage while the kids paint.”

  “Does the contract give you that right?”

  “No, but I’m going to take it.”

  “I love it when you talk tough.” She giggled. She had to restrain the impulse to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him, but she managed to walk away with a brisk stride as though work were her only concern.

  Indeed, that was all she wanted on her mind for the next few days. There was a chance her life had already been irrevocably changed. But there was also the chance it hadn’t. All she had to do was survive the next few days without suffocating on anxiety, and then she would deal with whatever future her passion for Luke had created.

  She crossed the street to Toby’s followed by Sheila and Frankie, who carried the water. She directed them to place the bottles in the shade at the side of the house, then had to move quickly to avoid colliding with Toby, who had snuck up behind her.

  When he dipped beneath the brim of her hat to kiss her cheek, it was abundantly clear Luke’s efforts to restrain the amorous artist had met with failure. She conjured up her most evil stare and fixed him with it.

  “I’m looking forward to painting the mural, but that’s the extent of my interest here, Mr. McClure.”

  Toby responded with a smart salute. “Aye, aye, Captain. We’re almost finished with the base coat. When it’s dry, we’ll draw in the grid.” He handed her a copy of Rafael’s drawing with the grid superimposed. “Dave did that on the computer, and it should be pretty easy to follow.”

  “Let’s hope so. Other than to make certain we have the necessary supplies, I plan to stay out of everyone’s way.”

  “Hey, come on. You’re more than welcome in mine.” He spread his hands wide and swept her with a suggestive gaze.

  It was still early, but Toby had exhausted the last shred of Catherine’s patience and, desperate to be rid of him, she seized upon the perfect threat. “Do you ever watch the WWE?” she asked.

  Surprised by her question, Toby laughed before he replied. “Maybe once, why?”

  “Because my boyfriend is one of the stars.” She was surprised she hadn’t thought of the WWE sooner. After all, the heavily muscled wrestlers were huge, and she assumed they must have some kind of professional tour; at least her sweetheart would.

  Stunned by that news, Toby’s mouth fell agape. “My God, which guy is he?”

  Catherine savored his fright for a long, delicious moment. “Believe me, you don’t want to know. Now I need to take some photographs to document the initial stages of the work. I’m sure you’ll excuse me.”

  “Yeah, sure, I’ll be around if you need me.”

  During the rest of the morning, Toby occasionally regarded her with a skeptical stare, but he kept a respectful distance, for which she was most grateful. At noon, the whole crew trooped back to the center for lunch, and Dave hurried to her side.

  “What’s with the guy from the WWE?” he whispered.

  “Hush,” Catherine ordered. “The story worked well, and don’t you dare tell Toby otherwise.”

  “I don’t need any competition, so you have my word on it.”

  He began to whistle happily, and Catherine wished she could think of something as menacing as the WWE to use on him.

  Luke arrived at Catherine’s that night carrying a half gallon of lime sherbet and a two liter bottle of grapefruit soda. “Come on, let’s make some floats, sit out on the deck and watch the moon rise.”

  It sounded like the perfect evening, and Catherine quickly provided tall glasses and iced tea spoons. She even found some fluorescent straws. As soon as they were seated outside, she took a long sip.

  “I keep telling you not to bring me presents, but when they’re this delicious, I’ll make an exception.”

  “The orchid was a present; refreshments don’t count, but while you’re moaning so contentedly, let me congratulate you on your close contact with the WWE.”

  “Dave told you?”

  “He sure did. He was so happy you’d found a way to discourage Toby that he could barely contain himself. I’m sorry Toby didn’t take my complaint more seriously, but apparently you handled him well enough on your own. I don’t want Dave to be your problem now though. You’ve inspired him to apply for work elsewhere, but—”

  “But what? Don’t you want him to get back on his feet?”

  “Yes, of course, but not until he can handle the pressure.” Luke took several sips of his frosty drink as he searched for the means to make her understand.

  “I won’t violate Dave’s trust, but just let me say he’s got to put himself back together before he can tackle the world again. Lost Angel is the perfect haven for him, and he does more work than I would have imagined he’d tackle, but please be careful not to be anything more than a friend.”

  She saw straight to the bottom of his warning and sighed softly. “If Dave’s ego is as fragile as you suggest, isn’t there a danger he’ll see simple friendship as something more?”

  “Yes,” he admitted, “the danger exists. But each time he brings up your name, I’ll do my best to lessen his expectations. It’ll be a delicate balancing act, but I think we can pull it off.”

  She would have preferred to tell Dave the truth, but she could scarcely lecture Luke on the danger of harboring secrets. She was tired and would rather do anything than argue.

  “I’m going to adopt your policy and not think beyond tonight,” she vowed.

  She left her chair to kneel in front of his. She rested her arms across his thighs and slid her thumbs along the inseam of his jeans. “Now I’d like to try something, and I’ll need your promise that you won’t scream and frighten the neighbors.”

  “Just what is it you intend to do?”

  She began to unbutton his fly. “Where’s your spirit of adv
enture?”

  When her fingers encircled his shaft, he was already hard and chuckled way back in his throat. “I think you’ve found it.”

  She paused to take another sip of her icy cold drink, then tasted him and, with a soft, sucking hunger, took him deep.

  Luke was used to the heat of her exotic kiss, not this stunning chill. His legs tightened around her convulsively, and he buried his fingers in her hair. Before the frozen thrill had even begun to thaw, he was lost, but she’d been wrong; he had no breath to scream.

  She knew exactly what she was doing, and it eased her conscience to know she wasn’t the first woman to escape her fears with a lover. She quickly enticed Luke out of his clothes, and they were soon naked on the lawn, as playful as pagan gods who lived only for pleasure. She gave as much she took, and the enchantment lasted until dawn.

  Chapter Fifteen

  With such enthusiastic workers, progress on the mural was swift. Content to supervise from a distance, Catherine brought a low aluminum beach chair from home and parked herself near the sidewalk. Occasionally someone would wander by on their way to the neighboring bar and pause to comment, but otherwise foot traffic was scant.

  Out on the street, however, cars had begun to slow as drivers gawked at the kids climbing the scaffolding. She couldn’t help but notice how pleased the teens were to attract so much attention, but she warned them all to keep their wits about them to avoid a fall.

  She took lots of candid photos and even managed a few of Luke while he toured the project Thursday morning. When he caught her and smiled, she simply took another shot, but she intended to keep that photograph for herself rather than post it on the bulletin board.

  The previous afternoon, Toby had taken Rafael to Pasadena’s Art Center College of Design. Now the spike-haired artist was excitedly recounting his tour of the campus to Luke, but it was plain he was even more excited by the prospect of impressing Art Center’s professors with his spectacular mural.

  Rafael had used charcoal to block in all the figures, but none had distinct features as yet. Catherine knew if she were going to raise Violet’s objection to appearing in the mural, it would have to be soon, but she hated to mention the girl’s name in front of Luke. She also knew better than to try to work around him.