Jule Mcbride - All Tucked In…

“It was. I landed right on top of a life-size nude.”

“Have you spent much time reviewing—” she paused with mock delicacy “—artwork?”

“Not really. A couple of days ago, during a meeting, Mar—” Cutting himself off, he decided he would rather not mention Margaret Craig, Sandy’s mother. “The Preservation Society put some of the pictures on the boardroom table.”

“You have a boardroom?”

“Dining room,” he corrected. “We use it for meetings.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, I hadn’t seen the pictures for awhile. They’re kept in the safe.” He hated how heat was slowly suffusing his body again. It was bad enough that he was spending tonight with nothing but a piece of glass between him and Carla, but he hardly wanted to stand around discussing porn. “Guess ads are hotter. While you’re here, one of the society members will probably take you downstairs to see them, if you want. Like I said, they’re in a safe.” He was loathe to admit it, but he added, “It really is a worthwhile art collection.” He was just afraid the pictures would wind up being hung in his dream clinic. “I’ll make sure you see them.”

“Thanks.”

Another silence fell, and when it turned awkward, Tobias said, “I’d better let you settle in. Dinner’s in a half hour. When you get downstairs, just about anybody can direct you to the ballroom. That’s where we eat.”

“Great. I’ll see you then.”

“I’ll be at a staff table, but…”

Somehow, he wished she didn’t look quite so relieved. “Then I’ll wave,” she promised graciously.

“The food’s nothing like your mother’s.” Or hers. When he thought of Carla’s homemade cannoli, his mouth watered. pImages** of candlelit dinners followed, and suddenly, all the memories hurt. Why had she run back down that aisle? In a heartbeat, the question he’d never ask again was on his lips. In the past, she’d tearfully said she didn’t know, but that had hardly soothed him.

He figured it was because of her dreams. Not that curing her tonight—if he could—would make a difference. It was too late now. Realizing they were still standing in the frilly bedroom gawking at each other, he said, “See you downstairs.”

“Thanks,” she said again.

Turning on his heel, Tobias headed down a red-carpeted hallway. When he reached the stairs, he gave in to the urge to look back. Her hands were on her hips, and she was staring at the partition, her dark eyes piercing through the glass as if she was imagining him sitting on the other side. He watched as she took a deep breath, seemingly bracing herself for the long night ahead.

He knew exactly how she felt.

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