But she pushed away her thoughts, trying to keep her voice cool and calm. "Maybe he had something come up."
Cherise shook her head. "He'd have called me and let me know."
"How can you be so sure? He's only been here for a week. That hardly makes you an expert on the man."
One of Cherise's eyebrows rose up. "Well, you can just tell these things."
Jo bristled, straightening in her rickety chair, aggravated that the other woman was so willing to defend the man's work ethic. Which wasn't rational. After all, he had been working hard for the center. But she didn't want to worry about whether he'd be back again. And she didn't want to think about what drove him away.
Her.
"I think you should try to call him," Cherise said. "Just to make sure he's okay."
No. Jo wasn't going to do that. Not with the way things ended this morning. No way.
"Actually, you know," she said, turned to her computer and clicked on the calendar icon. "I think he did tell me he had something going on today."
Jo even went to the extent of looking at her entries as if there would really be something written there. Another explanation aside from the real one as to why Maksim was absent. All that stared back at her was…Maksim, 8 A.M. to noon, in bright red letters.
But she managed to keep her voice steady and convincing as she said, "Oh yep, it does say that he had an appointment today. He wasn't sure if he'd be in or not."
Jo looked back at Cherise, forcing herself to meet the woman's dark gaze directly. "Sorry. I forgot."
Cherise's eyebrows indicated that she didn't believe her, but then she nodded and left the doorway, heading back to the ruckus in the daycare room.
Jo closed the calendar, unable to look again at the day labeled with Maksim's times.
And here was another bad effect of her decision with the man—she was going to lose her only decent volunteer.
And someone who she had to admit she really liked.
"Great," she muttered, dropping her head into her hands.
"Jo." Erika grinned as soon as she saw Jo on the other side of her door. "What are you doing here?"
Jo laughed, the sound even a little brassy to her own ears. "Well, it is Friday night. I thought you'd be up for hitting Bourbon Street."
"Really?"
Jo frowned at her friend. "I know I've been a bit of a homebody since I got here, but is it really that shocking I'd want to go out?"
Erika studied her for a moment, then shook her head. "No, I…no, of course not."
Jo smiled, but the smile dissolved as Erika added, "Are you feeling okay, though?"
Jo attempted to suppress her annoyance, though she knew that she probably wasn't doing a great job.
"You and Maggie are giving me a complex. I feel fine."
Which was a lie. She was tired, frazzled, sick of thinking about Maksim and her future. Sick of wondering if things could be different. Sick of worrying about the fact that she was apparently seeing things that weren't really there.
She forced a smile at Erika. "I really do feel fine. Just not wanting to be alone tonight."
Well, at least she could say that in all truth. She'd stayed late at the center, determined to do some work, the work she hadn't managed to do all day. But when the center emptied and grew quiet, and the sun sank low, casting long shadows in the hallway, she'd had to leave. Her nerves got the better of her.
And heading home didn't seem any more appealing. So she'd gone for a decaf latte at a coffee shop on Chartres. She'd lounged in an overstuffed wingback chair, sipped her coffee and read about the trials and tribulations of Hollywood's A List. And while that helped calm her nerves, it didn't keep her mind from returning again and again to Maksim.
Even the announcement of Brad and Angelina's twentieth pregnancy couldn't keep her mind from wandering. So she'd given up on the showbiz mags and went in search of human distraction.
She needed to be with her friends.
"Come in," Erika said, realizing she'd been blocking the doorway and leaving Jo standing on the porch. She ushered her in, and for the first time, Jo realized that her friend was getting ready to work.
Her dropcloth was spread on the dining room floor. And one of her sculptures, just a barebones metal frame, sat on top of it. Once Erika started working with polymer and other sculpting mediums, it would take become something completely different, something lifelike and breathtaking.
"I'm sorry. I'm interrupting you."
Erika waved a hand. "I'm thrilled to be able to avoid working for a while. And I'd love to get the chance to hang out with you. I know we just saw each other a couple days ago, but I feel like we haven't gotten a chance to really talk."
Jo nodded, although she wasn't sure she wanted to really talk. She wanted company and a distraction, but she didn't want to think anymore—not about what was real in her life, although, honestly, she was starting to wonder what was real. Everything seemed to be a weird fantasy.
And she wasn't about to tell Erika that she felt like she was losing her mind. That would open a line of conversation she could do without. She'd just keep her insanity to herself. Thanks.
"Is this piece commissioned or for a show?" Jo asked before Erika could ask her anything that might be difficult to discuss.
Erika walked over and touched the metal framework fondly. She loved her work, every creation one of her babies.
Jo breathed in slowly through her nose, wrapping her arms around herself, watching, trying not to think.
"It's for a gallery on Royal. The owner asked me for two new pieces." Erika stopped regarding her art and turned her full attention to Jo. Her gray-blue eyes dropped to Jo's stance, focusing on the arms folded over her stomach.
"Are you okay?"
Again with the "are you okays." Jo forced a smile, dropping her arms to her side. "I told you I'm fine."
"Okay."
"Listen, let's go see Maggie and the guys play."
Erika pursed her lips, and for a moment, Jo thought she was going to say no. Then she smiled, the curve of her lips transforming from worry to impish delight.
"Okay, let me change."
Jo smiled as her friend scampered down the hallway to get gussied up. Jo glanced down at her own black jumper with a white T-shirt underneath. Hardly Bourbon Street attire, but she thought the short length and the Empire waist made the style younger and sort of hip.
Beggars couldn't be choosers, and this style was cooler and more comfortable than the type of thing she would have normally worn out for a night on the town. She supposed the lack of her usual style was a minor concession preferable to being hideously uncomfortable.
She wandered over the sofa, sinking onto the blue velvet cushions and letting her eyes close. She was tired, but suffering a little sleepiness and a few yawns at a bar was much more appealing than sitting home alone. Not sleeping, anyway, because her mind wouldn't let her.
She stretched and willed her eyes open.
A noise rumbled beside her, startling her. She turned on her sofa cushion to see Erika's cat sitting on the arm of the sofa. Golden eyes watched, then disappeared behind a face of black fur. Then they slowly opened and Jo seemed to be held captive by their ochre yellow depths.
They stayed that way, feline and human locked in an unwavering stare.
"What do you think?"
Jo started, actually jerking at the sound of Erika's voice, the connection between herself and the black cat with the hypnotic eyes broken.
"Oh," Jo forced herself to smile at her friend. She managed to focus on Erika's outfit. "Oh, you look great."
Which Erika did. Her legs were encased in a pair of skinny jeans, which showed off their length and lithe shape to perfection. A graphic tee clung to her subtle curves, making her torso look long and feminine. The ensemble was topped off with a chunky belt and high-heel boots. Plain silver hoops adorned her ears.