The tall brunette laughed and leaned to give her a smacking kiss on the lips. "That's a bold-faced lie, you sweet thing," she said, patting a hip that might be more padded than it had been fifteen years ago. "But a delightful one, so thank you. You have. You're all grown-up. And so talented."
P.J. actually felt a blush flowing upward from her chest. Shyness had never been her particular curse and she possessed a healthy ego when it came to her talent. Yet an unaccustomed bashfulness overtook her now. "You liked the concert then?" This woman had formed the gold standard of parenting for more than half of her life. Suddenly being face-to-face with her felt like communing with a goddess.
"Iloved your concert. I stand in awe of your talent."
A huge smile split her face. "I stand in awe of yours, too. I still have the dollhouse you gave me."
"You do?" Victoria looked delighted to hear it.
"Yes. It's one of my most prized possessions. I keep it in my bedroom in my house in Aspen." Stopping in front of the suite, she handed Jared the key card and reached to give Gert a hug. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ignore you."
"I don't need entertaining, missy. You had some catching up to do and I was happy to listen. Here." The older woman thrust a foil-covered plate at her. "I brought you some brownies."
"Omigawd." She laughed with delight. "This is perfect. I'll order us up some coffee to go with it."
"Would you mind making mine tea?" Esme asked as they trooped into the suite.
"I'd prefer that, too," Tori agreed. "I'll be zooming 'til dawn if I drink coffee at this hour."
"I'll order a pot of each. And check the minifridge if there's anything else you'd rather have. I know there's a few little bottles of wine in there and there might be beer."
The impromptu party turned out to be so successful it didn't break up until after two o'clock in the morning. After bidding a final farewell to Gert and the Miglionnis, she closed the door behind them, looked at Jared and sighed. "Your family is so great. Do you have any idea how lucky you are to have them?"
He studied her soberly, then reached out to gently grasp her elbow and escort her back into the suite. "Yeah," he said softly. "Yeah, I think I do."
She gazed at him a moment, then said reluctantly, "I suppose I ought to look at that artist's sketch now."
Jared extracted it from a folder on the desk and handed it to her.
Holding her breath, she looked down at it. Then she blew it out in a single harsh exhalation. "I've never seen him before." Rubbing her temples between her thumbs and fingers, she stared up at him. "God, Jared. What am I going to do?"
"Tonight?" he asked gently, smoothing a strand of her hair back into place. "Not a damn thing. Come on." He reached for the buttons on her little gauze top, his gaze filled not with the sexual heat she expected but rather a fierce tenderness that squeezed her heart. "Let's go to bed. Things will look better in the morning."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Headline, Country Billboard:
Third Single From Priscilla Jayne'sWatch Me Fly Album Hits Top Twenty. "Designated Driver" Flying High!
"NO, NO, NO, NO. THAT'S wrong." Nell nudged Hank's shoulder with her own to halt his rendition of her song. "That should be middle C, not an octave below."
Her aroma, a pleasant mixture of soap, shampoo and a hint of perfume, drifted through his senses, and he took a deeper breath to enjoy it more fully. When he turned his head to look at her, he discovered that their faces were suddenly very close.
He cleared his throat. Recalled what they were discussing and sat a little straighter. "I'm telling you, it doesn't sound right in middle C. It's not a dramatic enough change. Listen-and this time don't interrupt until I'm done. Keep Peej's voice in mind." Tucking his fiddle back under his chin, he played her arrangement with the change he'd put in. "Now listen to it your way." He played it as written on the sheet music in his lap.
"No,I'm sorry, but you're just plain wr-" She fell silent midprotest, her gaze turning inward as if she were listening to the music again in her head. Then her gaze sharpened on him. "Damn. You're right, it does sound better an octave down. It's unpredictable and more interesting. And with P.J.'s range, that dropping down from second F will probably be the section that ends up sticking in everyone's head."
Snatching the score up off his lap, she reached for her mechanical pencil and erased the half note, replacing it with its lower-octave equivalent. Then, tossing the pencil aside, she curled a soft-skinned hand around the back of his neck, jerked him close and planted a smacking kiss on his lips. She pulled back, turning him loose and giving him a big grin. "You're a genius. Pass me that popcorn."
His brain stalled out like a prop plane with a faulty fuel gauge. Almost instantly, it came roaring back, but as if his life had flashed before his eyes during that lost second, everything suddenly looked brighter, tasted sweeter. He wanted to grab her and pull her back for a deeper kiss. But he froze in his seat, fearing he recognized a friendly peck when he felt one and knowing it would kill him if he had to watch her expression turn from admiration to horror. He held the neck of his fiddle in a death grip and unclenched his fingers one by one until he could set the instrument aside and reach for the bowl of popcorn. He passed it to Nell.
"Thanks."
"Sure." He racked his brain for something to say that didn't have the words "kiss me" and "please, please, please" in it. His gaze landing on the score, he shot her a little sideways smile. "These lyrics crack me up every time I read them. I guess we can safely say you're over Eddie, huh?"Jesus, man. That's it? He could have kicked his own butt around the block.Your big move is to remind her of Faithless Eddie? No wonder women don't beat a path to your door.
Thrusting his hand into the popcorn bowl, he grabbed a fistful of the buttered kernels and stuffed them into his mouth before he could embarrass himself with additional inanities. Lord have mercy, he was one smooth operator. Why his mama hadn't named him Lady Killer instead of Hank remained the mystery of the century.
Luckily Nell didn't seem to notice his pitiful small-talk skills. "I am so over him," she agreed. "I'm embarrassed my crush lasted as long as it did. What am I, twelve?" Shaking her head, she cast a rueful glance down the length of her mature, comfortably plump body. "I'd have a hard sell trying to convince anyone of that."
"I wouldn't beat myself up about it if I were you. Eddie has that effect on women. He's got some crazy-ass charisma that I've never understood." He shrugged. "But then I'm not a woman."
"No, you're definitely not that," she agreed. "And yes, Eddie does come off as charismatic. But it's a superficial charm that only goes so far. Once it wears thin he has zero substance to take its place." She shot him a look from beneath her lashes and reached for another handful of popcorn. "Unlike you, who doesn't come across as magnetic at first glance but has substance to burn." Her gaze locked on his, she opened her fist to allow several kernels to trickle into her mouth.
Was sheflirting with him? He gave the idea a second's thought, then had to stop himself from uttering a skeptical snort. Yeah, right.You wish, pal.
He did wish, even though his logical self knew she was just giving him one of those strokes that friends give friends. Their bare feet were propped on a stool she'd dragged out of the stateroom, and he gave the ball of hers a nudge with his big toe. "So let me get this straight-you don't think I'm just bristling with magnetism? Well, hell. I'm completely demoralized."
She blew a short, pithy raspberry.
"What, you think I'm kidding? Listen." He cupped his fingers behind his ear. "Hear that whizzing sound? That's my ego flying around the room backward like a loose balloon. Pretty soon there's not gonna be anything left but its little eyes bugging out. This is it. My life as I know it is over."