True Colors by Judith Arnold

Author:Judith Arnold
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: opposites attract jukebox oldies artist heroine brainiac shoreline beach book landlord tenant portrait painting
Publisher: Judith Arnold

Chapter Eleven

The next morning, Emma was still freaking out.

She hadn’t slept well. More accurately, she hadn’t slept at all. Infused with a nasty mixture of adrenaline, bewilderment, and sweat-inducing arousal, she’d lain in bed, trying to figure out what the hell had happened between her and Max outside the Faulk Street Tavern.

Inside the Faulk Street Tavern, too. The whole thing had started when that damned song had started playing.

That blessed song.

She was in love. No, she wasn’t.

She was in lust. No, it was more than that.

She was in trouble. That much was certain.

Good God. Who would have guessed that Max Tarloff could kiss like Casanova on steroids? She couldn’t recall ever being so turned on by a few kisses. She couldn’t recall ever being so turned on at all.

And he was her flipping landlord. And she was supposed to paint him. Definitely, she was in trouble.

She hadn’t told Monica about the encounter outside the pub. When Emma had rejoined her friend at their booth, Monica had immediately started pumping her for information about her conversation with Nick Fiore. Emma had welcomed the distraction, happily discussing the possibility of scoring some studio space at the community center. “If you can work at the center, you’ll probably attract a lot more students,” Monica had pointed out. “You can post class schedules on the bulletin boards there, and in the center’s newsletters. This could work out fabulously, Emma! Not only would you have space to teach, but you’d generate a lot more income. People would go to the center, swim a few laps, and then spend an hour painting—and paying you.”

“If,” Emma had emphasized. “First I have to see if there’s a room at the center I can use.” Even if there was, Emma’s housing problem would not be solved. But if the community center worked out, she could live in someone’s basement or above someone’s garage and not have to worry about breaking zoning laws by conducting her art classes in a non-commercial venue.

For all his fussing about those stupid zoning laws, Max seemed to have no objection to her beginning work on his portrait in his not-zoned-for-commercial-use house. Of course, all she would be doing today would be photographing him and interviewing him a bit, so she could get a sense of what his dreams were for the background imagery.

The thought of interviewing him made her queasy. The thought of being alone in the house with him made her giddy. She was tempted to beg Monica to take the day off and stay home, but then she would have to explain why. What would she say? “Max and I need a chaperone so we won’t jump each other’s bones the minute he gets here.”

She couldn’t talk about her steamy interlude outside the Faulk Street Tavern with Max, not even with her best friend. Not until she’d made sense of it—which seemed pretty freaking impossible.

Tired of lying in bed, battling insomnia while her brain tied itself in macramé knots, she’d arisen at five and gotten to work framing Ava Lowery’s painting.

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