Nothing In Common

by Megan Hart

  "So anyway," she was saying, "I had just finished flushing the damn thing down the toilet when the phone rang. It was my roommate, asking about the fish!"

  "Weird." Tom drank in the way Lila’s smile curved her mouth.

  "Candace was weird," Lila agreed and then broke off. She had noticed him looking at her mouth. "What?"

  "Just thinking about how much I’d like to kiss you right now," Tom answered honestly.

  Lila flushed and then frowned. She pulled her glance from his and began intently studying the mug of tea in her hands. Her face told him he shouldn’t have blurted out his thoughts. It was a fault of his—that tendency to speak without thinking. He hadn’t thought her reaction would be so negative. She’d made it clear from the start she wasn’t impressed with lame conversation, but he wasn’t trying to come on to her…at least not in a sleazy way.

  "Lila, I’m sorry." He was apologizing for his bluntness, not his desire to kiss her. He couldn’t be sorry for that.

  "We were having a nice time." Her voice was quiet, and she still didn’t meet his eyes.

  "We still are." He felt stupider than the time he’d asked his prom date’s father to buy him a six-pack of beer. Of course he hadn’t known until later the guy going into the liquor store was his date’s dad, but he’d sure felt like an idiot anyway.

  "Look, Tom," Lila began, her tone of voice telling him she was going to try to let him down easy.

  He didn’t want to be let down easy. "Don’t say anything, Lila. I’m sorry. I wasn’t coming on to you."

  She laughed. "You mean telling someone you want to kiss them isn’t a come on?"

  "I was just being honest." She still wasn’t thawing. All the ground he’d gained since asking her for coffee was lost, just like that. "I thought women liked that."

  Her lovely dark eyebrows knitted together. "Some women."

  Beginning to be exasperated, he sat back in the chair. They’d spent three hours talking without him once suggesting they go to his place, buy condoms, or read to each other from his hardbound collection of Penthouse letters. He hadn’t even told her any off-color jokes! And one little comment had straightened her spine like a broomstick down the back of her shirt.

  "So you’re saying you like lies?"

  "I’m saying I don’t like to be manipulated." Her voice was flat, and she finally met his gaze fully. "I didn’t go to Rivka’s show to meet Mr. Right."

  The tea was churning a little in his stomach, but Tom ignored it. He usually didn’t let even the most foul-tempered people get him riled, but Lila Lazin was managing to push all his buttons. He ran his fingers through his hair, another bad habit to go along with his tendency to blurt out offensive statements.

  "Why did you come out with me then?"

  She licked her lips, the tiny pink tip of her tongue stroking the fullness of her mouth in a way that made him want to groan. Lila sighed.

  "I had nothing better to do."

  Tom shook his head, as if to better hear what she had just said. Not that he really wanted it repeated. He’d heard her pretty plainly the first time.

  "Nothing better to do?"

  Now she shrugged. "I don’t date men like you, Tom. I just don’t. I’m sorry. I thought I had made that clear."

  He couldn’t believe this. All right, so maybe he had been a little spoiled in the past by the women he’d taken out, all of whom had been clearly flattered and excited to date him. Maybe he had grown a little complacent in his appeal. But nothing better to do? She didn’t date "men like him?"

  "Now we’re back to that line." He spoke loudly, as much to watch her blush as anything. He didn’t care who turned their heads to look at them in the coffeehouse. He was used to being stared at. And after all, wasn’t that what she meant when she said "men like him?"

  "Tom!" Lila’s whisper was loud and harsh. "Please keep your voice down."

  "Sorry, Lila." He couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his voice. "I won’t waste any more of your time."

  He got up from the table, determined to walk out of the coffee house and call it a night. His gut still burned from her words and the bitter tea. "Sensitive," his mother had always called him. "Always taking things too personally."

  Well, how was he supposed to take things? He saw an interesting woman staring at him from across the room. He asked her to get some coffee. No pickup lines, no obvious sexual overtures, at least not intentional ones. And what had that gotten him? Insult after insult! So what if her sense of humor had been just weird enough to match his? So what if the sight of her lips made him think about kissing them? To hell with Lila Lazin. He swung open the door and stalked outside. It was three hours wasted, that’s all. There were plenty of women who’d love to go out with him. Plenty!

  But that’s the problem, Tom thought with a half-muttered grumble as the cold wind hit him full in the face. There were too many women who would love to go out with him, but until tonight, there’d been too few he’d wanted to take out.

  For a moment, thinking of her soft mouth and the way he knew she’d taste, he almost went back inside. Nothing better to do. Her words echoed in his mind, and he kept walking.

  "Tom, wait."

  He turned, scowling. Lila hadn’t taken the time to fully button her field coat or to pull on her gloves, and she shivered.

  "For what?"

  "Tom, I’m sorry."

  He snorted. "Sure, whatever. See you around."

  She followed him to the spot where he’d parked his truck, and stopped him from getting in by placing her fingers on his elbow. Even through the thick leather of his jacket, the touch of her fingers was like a tiny electrical shock against his flesh. He pulled away.

  "Tom, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It’s just that we were having such a nice time, talking and all that. Then when you said that…"

  "What, Lila?" His anger began to cool. He turned, shielding her from the wind as best he could. "What was it that upset you? I didn’t mean it as a come on. I told you that. I was just being honest."

  "Were you?"

  That stung. "Of course. C’mon Lila, do I come off like that much of an ass?"

  She looked chagrined. "No, I guess not."

  The theatre door opened, and they both stepped aside to let a stream of late-night moviegoers shuffle out. The Allen was showing a wildly popular romantic tragedy. A chick flick. One young woman’s eyes were so swollen she could barely see, and she still sniffled loudly.

  "I meant it, Lila. I still do."

  She blinked slowly. She spoke, and her words nearly knocked him off his feet.

  "Okay," she said. "Then do it."

  * * *

  Lila couldn’t believe she’d said yes, and by the expression on his face, Tom couldn’t either. She wanted to laugh, but couldn’t manage more than a wobbly smile. Her heart pattered like a thousand tiny Irish step-dancers doing the hora. Her stomach twisted.

  Tom just stood there, staring at her. She was wavering between relief and disgruntlement when he stepped forward, grasped her upper arms, and brought his face close to hers. This is it. She hadn’t realized she’d closed her eyes in anticipation until what seemed an eternity had passed without her feeling his lips against hers. She opened her eyes to see Tom staring at her, an odd smile twisting the mouth she’d expected to be soft and warm. She stepped back.

  "What’s wrong?" She was suddenly uncomfortable. It was one thing to make such an impulsive decision. It was quite another to have to wait so long to fulfill it.

  Tom laughed. "Lost my nerve. Not quite the Casanova you were expecting, huh?"

  The light shining from inside the coffeehouse painted the right side of his face in varying shades of amber and yellow. The wind had tousled his dark hair into an untidy nest and brought high color to his cheeks. If anything, the dishevelment made him even more appealing.

  Tom reached out and grabbed one of her hands, the warmth of his gloves welcome against her bare skin. "Can I try again?"

  She s
hook her head quickly. "No. Now I’ve lost my nerve."

  "So that’s that, I guess." He didn’t sound completely dissuaded. He tugged her other hand into his own, until they were standing like two children playing London Bridge. "Too bad, huh?"

  She laughed again. "Tom, I’m really sorry. I’m a dolt."

  He waggled his eyebrows at her. "No argument here."

  "I did have a very nice time with tonight. It’s just…." She thought for a moment while staring at his face. That beautiful face. "You’re too handsome."

  He blinked at her, his hazel eyes picking up little bits of golden light from the coffeehouse windows. "Now there’s one I’ve never heard before."

  How could she explain herself? "When I saw you tonight at Rivka’s show, that’s what I thought right away. You’re too handsome. You’re like some sort of movie star or male model. Not my speed."

  Now he frowned, but he didn’t let go of her hands. "Lila, I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult."

  "I had a really good time tonight," she told him earnestly. "Much better than I’ve had in a long while. I just want you to know I’m not interested in being some pretty boy’s conquest."

  She’d hurt his feelings again she saw. This time, he did drop her hands. "What makes you think I’m interested in making you a conquest?"

  "I’m no dummy."

  "That’s what I like about you, Lila. I had a great time with you tonight, too. I meant what I said at the show, that I thought you looked interesting. I was right. So where’s the crime in that?"

  She sighed. Everything was becoming complicated. "No crime. Tom, believe me, if I were the type of person to just hop into bed with anybody, you certainly would be right up at the top of my list."

  "Or a man like me." He mocked her.

  She didn’t like hearing her own words thrown back at her that way, but he was right. "That’s right. A man like you."

  "Exactly what kind of man am I?" Tom used his remote to unlock the truck, then opened the driver’s door. "Can you tell me that?"

  She didn’t have a good answer. Tom shook his head.

  "I’m used to being judged by how I look, Lila. I’m tired of it, but it’s no surprise. I guess I thought there was more to me than just what flesh God decided to cover my skull with. Too bad you can’t see it."

  He was turning to step into the truck now, and Lila felt instantly, hotly ashamed. Talking with Tom had been wonderful. He definitely had a lot more going for him than just a pretty face. Still, she’d had experience with one modern Adonis not so long ago, and she didn’t need another.

  "Guys like you don’t date women like me." She was desperate to explain and failing.

  The wind had picked up even more, now, whipping at the corners of his leather coat when he turned back to look at her.

  "You’re right, Lila. We don’t date girls like you." He slid into the truck and paused before pulling the door shut. "We marry them."

  CHAPTER 2

  "The lighting guy was here this morning, the carpet guy’s coming this afternoon, and the plumber will be here tomorrow." Rivka’s husky voice filled the telephone clamped to Lila’s ear. "It’s all coming together, Lila-love. I can’t tell you how excited I am."

  "Your own gallery." Lila cradled the phone against her shoulder while she signed papers. "Who wouldn’t be excited?"

  "What do you think we should call it? I was thinking The Gallery on Second."

  The gallery was going to be on Second Street. Lila smiled. "Makes sense."

  "Or how about The Second Street Gallery?"

  "That sounds good, too."

  "You’re not helping!" Rivka shrieked.

  Grimacing, Lila held the phone away from her ear. Darren Ramsey, Lila’s personal assistant, took the papers she had signed and slid another sheaf onto the desk. All four of Lila’s magazines were due to head to the printer in less than a week. She had a million things to do for each one of them, but she had taken Rivka’s call anyway. How could she have refused? She was just as excited for her sister as Rivka was herself.

  Giving Darren a thumbs-up to take the last set of forms, Lila mouthed, "My sister." The young man grinned. He’d met Rivka.

  "I’ll hold your calls," Darren whispered mischievously, ducking out of the office in time to miss being hit full-on by a wad of crumpled paper.

  "…a big favor to ask you, Lila-love."

  While making faces at Darren, Lila had missed the first part of the conversation. "Sorry, Riv?"

  "You know how my mind works, right?" Rivka laughed.

  Lila heard the jingle of bracelets. She imagined her sister nervously running her hands through her short, curly hair—a telephone habit she’d had for years.

  "The creative part, I mean."

  "Nobody knows how your mind works," Lila teased.

  "If anybody does, it’s you," Rivka shot back, not teasing.

  Lila was surprised.

  Rivka sounded serious. "You know how I get when I’m in a creative frenzy, right?"

  "Sure." Lila’s reply was hesitant and a little wary. Rivka was clearly trying to get at something. The question was, what? And what part would she want Lila to play in it?

  Though she loved her sister dearly, Lila had no illusions about what Rivka might have in mind. Since they’d been children, it had always been Rivka who’d come up with the seemingly brilliant ideas, leaving Lila not only to do the legwork, but also the clean up. They’d collaborated on everything from lemonade stands to puppet shows, and while many of Rivka’s projects had been unquestionable successes, just as many had been dismal failures. Lila had learned to be on her toes whenever Rivka asked a favor of her.

  "Remember the treehouse club?" Rivka sounded like a little girl again. "How I thought we could charge admission to the clubhouse to pay for drinks and snacks? And how everybody showed up and paid their quarters, but I didn’t have any drinks and snacks to give them?"

  Lila laughed suddenly at the memory. "I remember Benny Mason threatening to beat you up, and me running down to the mini-mart to buy some Twinkies."

  "You see? That’s exactly what I mean. You were always my right-hand woman. You’re the one who always took my scatterbrained ideas and made sure they worked."

  Lila leaned back in her chair, the magazine production schedule temporarily forgotten. "What are you trying to say, Riv?"

  "I have all these great ideas, but when it comes to the follow through…." Rivka laughed again, with no hint of embarrassment. "Except for my paintings, I’m hopeless."

  "Yes." This time Lila wasn’t teasing. It was true, and they both knew it.

  "I want you to take partnership in my gallery. I need someone who I can trust. I need someone who can put up with all my bull and follow through. Will you do it?"

  If Rivka had asked Lila to raise her children for her, Lila could not have been more honored. Running Rivka’s gallery was in a far different league than running down to the mini-mart to buy snack cakes. This time, her sister had obviously thought about asking for Lila’s help.

  "You want me to run your gallery?"