Chapter 17

Which meant he was perfect for Michelle.

Which meant the only thing Candace would accomplish by staying was to get in the way of her sister’s happiness.

____________

“Where are you taking me?”

Michelle followed Nick down the Street in the Third Ward, an area of old factories and warehouses reclaimed and reinvented as shops, theaters and restaurants. They’d passed the galleries and funky furniture stores, and were headed, as far as she could tell, for the Quinley River. Just before they reached the bridge, Nick stopped in front of one last small building on the west side of the street which housed a wig shop.

“You’re buying Emma a wig for her birthday?”

He gave her a look and opened a door to the left of the store which led into the foyer for the building’s upstairs residents.

“I thought we were shopping.”

“We are.”

“In someone’s apartment?”

“Why not?”

Her frown turned into surprise when he pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the security door.

“You live here?”

“Yup.”

“We’re going to your apartment?”

“Nope.”

“Nick, why are you being so mysterious?”

He waggled his thick eyebrows, smirking at her impatience, and led the way up the worn-carpeted stairs. “All will be revealed in time.”

“Honestly.”

She followed, thumping up each step to signal her pretend displeasure, all the while brimming with excited curiosity. She’d never thought of Nick as either mysterious or romantic. Wouldn’t that be something if he turned out to be both? The day was looking better and better after the tension with Candace over breakfast. Michelle had been late leaving the house, as usual, but hadn’t passed any cops speeding east on I94, and found a miracle parking place only a few yards from where she’d promised to meet Nick. Good luck always needed celebrating, at very least with a good mood.

“Here.” Nick stopped outside the scuffed door marked 2B and rapped with the scratched knocker. A deep voice answered unintelligibly, but Nick must have decided that was permission enough because he pushed open the door and gestured Michelle in ahead of him.

Three steps into the apartment she could see this was the home of an extraordinary artist. All four walls were hung with bright abstract paintings, great smears of colors with black squiggly lines dancing through them; they made her feel cheerful and somber all at once. On every surface sat sculptures, thin black metal bodies contorted in various sexual pairings, some tender, some gymnastic, some nearly violent, all erotic. Simple figures, but tremendous movement and passion in each coupling.

By the doorway to what must be a bedroom, two chairs had been set opposite each other, a board laid between them, covered with a sheet splatted here and there with gold paint. On the sheet, lovingly arranged, was jewelry.

Michelle walked toward it, mesmerized. Was this what Nick had in mind for Emma? Earrings, bracelets, necklaces, all in silver, her favorite, twisted in delicate spirals, looped in playful circles or zigzags, adorned here and there with gems in rich colors that caught the light spilling through one of the windows. An artist’s eye had set them here to be displayed to their advantage.

She hardly knew where to look first. Such talent. Such beauty. “All of this, the paintings, the sculptures, the jewelry…”

“One guy. He’s good, huh?”

“Good?” She turned to Nick, overcome. “He’s a genius.”

“I had a feeling you’d like it.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s exuberant and colorful. And sensu—beautiful. Like you.”

“Nick.” She smacked him on the arm to cover her pleasure and astonishment. Pleasure at his nice words, though he complimented her often even though they’d been friends for two years now—he was sweet that way.

Astonishment because she figured he’d invited her along shopping this morning because he had no confidence in his taste. Given the way he dressed, Michelle would have agreed. She expected they’d hit the mall jewelry store, he’d go straight for some chunky tasteless disaster, and she’d have to steer him away from his instincts to protect poor Emma from every woman’s nightmare.

But this… How could he have such an eye for beauty and leave the house looking the way he did every day? Today’s ensemble: lemon-yellow stained shirt and horrible dull green pants—don’t get her started.

“I’ll be right out.” The deep voice originated in the rooms beyond the jewelry. “Have a look around.”

“That’s Sledge.”

“Sledge? As in hammer?”

“He’s the artist. My neighbor. I live upstairs, bumped into him a couple of times and we got friendly. He’s a good guy.”

“He’s brilliant.” She finally managed to calm down enough to concentrate on the jewelry pieces singularly. A necklace in the middle caught her eye, a gorgeous piece that made her lust to own act up. She needed to remember this was not her purchase. “Tell me more about Emma’s taste. You said she’s—”

“Pick out whatever you’d want. You and she are similar. Whatever you love she would, too.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” He shoved his hands into his baggy pants. “Yeah, I’m sure. If I think she’d hate what you choose, I’ll let you know. But I doubt it.”

“I don’t see how you could hate any of this.” She gazed at the assortment, pretending to consider, though the necklace was smiling at her. Take me. You know you want to. “I like this one…”

Nick lifted it, a series of silver circles, some perfect, some slightly twisted, with jewels of varying size and color attached around the circumferences, apparently randomly. Except the balance, the color, the energy of the piece made her sure there was nothing random about it.

“Try it.” Nick opened the clasp, held out the necklace. Michelle turned and moved her hair out of the way, thinking Nick had really nice hands, neat with strong-looking fingers. He needed to take that much care of his fashion sense and that horrible helmet of hair… The weight of the necklace settled onto her collarbone; she felt him brush the back of her neck, then the cool metal fell against her skin. She touched the silver rings where they lay neatly arranged across her chest, a perfect length to show off a low-cut sweater or to accentuate a high one.

“Well?” She turned back to let Nick see.

He nodded. He was looking at her with a weird intensity, undoubtedly imagining Emma in the necklace. “It’s beautiful.”

The emotion in his low voice surprised her. As did a funny wistful ache in her heart. He adored Emma. Wasn’t that what every girl wanted? Michelle hoped the woman knew how lucky she was. “If Emma is anything like me, she’ll love it.”