to pick up.' Before she could say no, I went on, 'I'll get the menu. Have a look at it and see what you think.'
'Thanks, but I was dreaming of a hot shower and getting into something comfortable. I'll take a rain check, OK?'
'You can have a shower here, while I order. And I'm sure you've got a change of clothes in your luggage. Please. I'd really like the company.'
'You have Julia Roberts,' said Ariana, indicating Jules, who had chosen this moment to stalk up to us, her ears slanted in a frown. She sat down and glared at me. After all her efforts, I still hadn't provided her dinner on schedule.
'She's lovely,' I said, 'but just a touch self-centered. Basically, it's Jules, Jules, Jules. I don't get a look-in.' I sloped my eyebrows the wrong way and looked hopefully at Ariana.
'I'm too tired to resist,' Ariana said with a half laugh. 'Where's the menu?'
The Kendall & Creeling Building had originally been a private home, so there were two proper bathrooms. The one the staff used had a bathtub with a showerhead and, of course, a toilet. Mine, off my bedroom, was smaller, but it had a frosted glass shower recess. I'd always considered it dangerous to clamber into a slippery bathtub to have a shower and said so to Ariana. 'It's much safer to use my bathroom.'
'I'll use the office one,' she said, a little too emphatically.
'Are you thinking I'm going to put the hard word on you?' I asked. When she raised one eyebrow fractionally, I translated, although I was certain she knew exactly what I meant. 'Make a pass at you, come on to you-whatever it is you Americans say.'
'Kylie-'
'Because I won't. Promise.'
And I meant it. No way was I going to ruin things between us. I had to admit I'd almost blown it a few weeks back, when I'd said too much, but since then I'd played it cool, and things were again back on an even keel.
'OK.' Ariana picked up her things and headed for the staff bathroom. I called the Thai restaurant with our order, then served Julia Roberts with grilled turkey, one of her favorites. Actually, she had a healthy appetite, so pretty well every different dinner was a favorite.
I'd picked up my keys to collect our order when Ariana came into the kitchen barefoot and wearing faded blue jeans and a black T-shirt. 'You didn't have black jeans?' I asked, grinning.
'Apparently not,' she said drily. 'Do you want me to come with you?'
'No, stay here and keep Jules company.'
'Then let me pay.'
'I asked you to dinner, so it's my shout.'
I left her with Jules watching TV in the kitchen and skipped out to my car. I reminded myself not to get too chuffed about having persuaded Ariana to share a meal with me. It was no big deal. She'd eat, stay for a few polite minutes more, then go off to her Hollywood Hills home with its stunning views…and maybe, its memories.
Memories. What was it that made her so sad? Had someone she cared for died? Or was it a love story that had ended badly? But how could anyone fall out of love with Ariana? I suspected I'd find it impossible.
On autopilot, I drove the kilometer or so to the Thai restaurant, rehearsing what I'd say to Ariana when I got back. Maybe she would let her hair down and talk about herself… Oh, that was likely-as likely as me spotting a flock of pink pigs flying along Sunset Boulevard.
Miraculously, I snaffled a parking spot after driving around the block only once, chatted with the sweet little daughter of the Thai family who owned the shop, collected my order, and, feeling supercheerful, left a large tip. Before starting my car, I hesitated. Should I pick up a bottle of wine to have with our food? Would it look as though I had an ulterior motive? That I was plying her with alcohol to have my way with her?
Speeding back to Ariana, I resolved to be a relaxed, agreeable dinner companion. As I drove through our gate, I glanced at our names: Kendall & Creeling. Our business relationship: crash-hot if it could be our personal relationship too. I sternly reminded myself not to be impetuous. My mother had often pointed out how often I got myself in hot water because I acted without first thinking it through. Tonight I would be caution personified.
I found Ariana perched on a high stool in the kitchen, Julia Roberts rather precariously situated on her lap. 'Gussie will smell Jules on your clothes,' I said, dumping the plastic bag containing our dinner on the counter.
'She won't mind. Gussie loves cats. She's very respectful, probably because she had a cat of her own for quite a few years: Priscilla.'
I was eager to glean any personal details. 'What happened to Priscilla?' I asked.
'She was nineteen,' said Ariana, 'so I believe one can say old age happened to Priscilla.'
'You had her from a kitten?'
Ariana smiled. 'She was an incredibly soft, furry little ball of energy.'
I would have kept this conversation going, just to see where it would lead, but Ariana gently deposited Julia Roberts on the floor and headed for the food.
We sat companionably across from each other at the kitchen bench, open containers of many different Thai delicacies between us. I particularly liked that about Thai food-the mixture of many flavors to compliment and contrast. As she served herself, I noticed she'd removed her signet ring.
We didn't talk much, just concentrated on eating. Afterward, over coffee (Ariana) and tea (me), I brought Ariana up to speed on what had been happening while she'd been away in Sacramento. 'What with the Global Marsupial Symposium starting on Thursday next week, everyone in the biology department is flat out like a lizard drinking,' I said, 'so I haven't had much chance to chat up Erin Fogarty about Oscar's quokka research. Monday morning, first thing, I'm going to turn on the charm full bore.'
'Difficult to see how she can resist,' said Ariana in a dry tone.
I gave her a cheeky grin. 'End of the day, I practically guarantee that I'll be her second best friend.'
'I don't doubt it. But why aim so low? Why not be Erin Fogarty's first best friend?'
Crikey, I loved her cool, astringent wit. More than that, I loved her. 'You know I said I wasn't going to put the hard word on you?'
Ariana looked at me mutely, her eyes so blue they glowed.
I took a deep breath. 'I lied. I want you to stay the night. Here. With me.'
She shook her head. 'Bad idea.'
'Be a devil, Ariana. Throw caution to the winds.'
Her mouth quirked, just a little. 'It's not in my character.' She slid off the kitchen stool. 'Kylie, this isn't going to work. There are so many things you don't know.'
'Then tell me.'
'I can't.'
'Or won't?'
'Both.'
'Blimey,' I said, 'you don't make things easy, do you?' We were standing toe-to-toe. I leaned forward and kissed her wonderful mouth. Her heart was beating hard against me. 'Come to bed.'
She stood within the circle of my arms, unresisting, her head bent. Barefoot, she was a bit shorter man me, but I'd reckon more than my match. I could feel the taut muscles in her back, sense the tensile strength of her.
Ariana's breath had quickened; there was a faint tremor in her body. I knew she desired me-or desired someone-to hold her, make love to her. Perhaps any warm body would do. Perhaps she saw the image of someone else when she looked at me. Perhaps…
She looked up. 'All right,' she said. 'I'll stay.'
'Thank you.'
'Thank you?'
I felt myself blushing. 'I didn't expect you to agree,' I added hastily, 'and I'm really chuffed you have, Ariana. You won't change your mind, will you?'
Suddenly, she looked terribly sad. 'No,' she said, 'I won't change my mind. I should-but I won't.'
I couldn't help feeling a bit hurt. At least she could pretend a degree of enthusiasm. 'Stone the crows,' I said, 'that's a bit less than a ringing endorsement for my company. I mean, I'm not expecting for you to fall over yourself, but…'
